I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map. And knew that somehow I could find my way back. Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too. So I stayed in the darkness with you. - Florence and the Machine
DISCLAIMER: I own neither the quote above from Florence and the Machine, nor anything Marvel/Avenger.
Chapter One: Steve's POV
I match my breathing with the pace of my feet.
Step, Inhale. Step, Exhale. Step, Inhale. Step, Exhale.
My mind goes blank as my feet strike the pavement. I look forward to this feeling every morning. I love to run. I get restless when I'm still for too long, but it's also for this feeling of absolute nothing - peace. When I'm running, there's no Avengers, no Hydra - nothing.
The sun should be fully up and blinding me right about now, but its blocked out by massive clouds. It's supposed to storm today, and it's coming soon. I can smell it.
I make another lap around the Washington Monument.
Wow. That one was even faster than my usual time.
Maybe I'm picking up the pace because I'm alone. It's so quiet right now - the only sounds coming from my breathing and the rumbling of distant thunder.
Some days I can't bear to be by myself on these runs. I've gotten used to running with Sam, and then when Buck returned - it became the three of us sprinting every morning. Buck and I can easily whip Sam's ass, but his company is nice all the same.
But then there are other days, like today, when Sam has to be at work early and Buck decides to sleep in (or gets in one of his moods) - then I run alone. And today, the alone time is just what I need.
Buck had another nightmare last night. I woke to his screaming, and when I ran from my bedroom to the living room, I found him thrashing like crazy on the couch. As more of his memory returns, the nightmares get worse. He told me he dreams about the experiments they did on him, the torture techniques they tried when he wouldn't break, and all the people he killed while under their control.
It guts me to see him like that. Sam tells me that every nightmare and flashback is actually helping him to fight his way back to the man he was, but it's almost impossible to bear the fact that there's nothing I can do to help him.
Bucky returned nearly a year after we took down Project Insight.
I found him leaning against the door of my apartment one night when I came home from dinner with Sam. When I saw him the emotion I felt even more than shock was joy. Buck was there, standing in front of me - he looked worn and weary and haunted, but my best friend was back.
He's been staying with me since then.
It isn't the same of course, but it was amazing just how fast everything fell back into place with us. Our friendship is almost better now, stronger. Buck is the one person I really, truly understand. We're the same - two guys trying to live in a place, a time, where we don't belong; both of us shaped and molded by people whose intentions never coincided with what they promised.
We're getting better.
I think I'll run by the deli across the street from here. They make a good cup of coffee, and it'll cheer Buck up.
I'm hoping he's still sleeping. He didn't get much more after I shook the hell out of him to wake him up.
I hit my final lap mark and veer to the left around the monument toward the deli. I feel a single drop of rain hit the back of my neck, and a few heartbeats later - the skies open and I am completely drenched.
Through the deafening roar of the storm I hear an exclamation I cant make out, and several thuds hitting the concrete. I turn around and across the street, I see a girl, on her knees trying to gather what looks like textbooks.
I run across the street unhindered, and gather her books in my arms. They're all hardbacks so she'll probably be able to salvage them.
"I'm so sorry!" She shouts,
I cant make out her face too clearly because of the rain, but it's clear she's embarassed.
I smile at her.
"Don't worry about it," I yell back. "That big building behind you is a church. Let's get there and dry off a bit, okay?"
She nods and takes my outstretched hand in hers. I don't notice at first, but as she starts to move I see that she's limping badly. With my free arm, I gather her to my side and lift her off her feet. She wraps her arms around me tight. I'm guessing she's afraid I'll drop her. I sprint toward the church and it's only a few seconds before I have the pair of us inside and her sitting on the edge of a pew.
I look at her leg and find a gash just above the knee. It may not be deep enough to need stitches, but it's bleeding badly and I imagine it stings something fierce.
"God, I'm such a klutz," she breathes like a laugh. "I was reading while I was walking and then the rain came down, and I tripped over something. Thank you so much for helping me."
I look at her then, and that one look in the dim candlelight changes everything. She's beautiful - so much so it takes my breath away and I can barely form a coherent thought.
Her hair is wet and darkened, but I'm guessing it's probably a light blonde - almost white. As I look at her, little spirals are forming rapidly around her face and I imagine her hair will be a mass of curls when it's dry. Her eyes are big and round, and the brown of them is a shade I've never seen before. I believe you can tell a lot about a person from their eyes, and hers are so open I feel like I can see right into her soul - and damn, that's beautiful too.
Her nose is long and regal looking, her cheekbones are high and rounded, and her lips - good lord - they're full and red where she's biting on them. I've never seen anything like her. Not ever. And I can't look away. She's the kind of beautiful that easily brings dopes like me to their knees.
In my trance, I unconsciously squeeze her knee and she lets out a little whimper of pain.
I instantly let go and have the overwhelming urge to kick myself. Keep it together, Rogers!
"Sorry," I say and she shakes her head with a kind smile - perfect white teeth, too. "Your knee is swollen. I'm guessing when you went down, you probably twisted it. It'll be pretty sore for a while depending on how bad it is."
I tear the sleeve off the jacket I'm wearing and she gasps. For some reason, that sound has me blushing like a damn schoolgirl.
"I'm going to wrap this around your knee as a brace," I explain. "It should help with the pain and keep the swelling down. Once this rain lets up a little, I'll take you to the hospital to look at that cut. I don't think it needs stitches, but it definitely needs to be cleaned to keep it from getting infected."
She starts to pull away a bit.
"I'm okay, really. I'm sure it's no big deal. I appreciate all of your help though, I can't think of too many guys who would've gone out of their way like that for a stranger."
Who wouldn't go out of their way for her? Hell, I'd go across the Atlantic for her.
"Well then, there are too many guys without the brains or proper manners to help out a beautiful-um ... I mean ... a lady who requires assistance." I stutter like an idiot.
She blushes crimson and wrings her hands together.
I really have to refrain from punching myself in the face. What is WRONG with you?!
"I understand your aversion to hospitals," I say and she looks up at me, her full lower lip between her teeth. "I'm not a fan myself, but it really does need to be cleaned. I'd do it myself, but I don't have any of the supplies on me. Forgive me if I'm being too forward ma'am, but I don't live far from here, and I can take care of it there if you'll let me."
She clears her throat and nods after a few reluctant moments.
"I'm Rose," she says suddenly, extending her hand. "Rose MacLeod."
I shake her hand, surprised by the firmness of her grip and softness of her skin.
"It's a pleasure Ms. MacLeod." I reply, "I'm Steve Rogers."
An odd look crosses her face and I can't stop myself from asking.
"What?"
"Sorry I mean - I know who you are," she stutters. "I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."
I get an unexplainable rush from her recognizing me, but I don't understand that second half at all.
"Make me uncomfortable?" I ask and she nods shyly. "Why would that make me uncomfortable?"
She raises a dark, arched eyebrow with a look that tells me I'm missing the point.
"Well, I imagine you get tired of people harassing you all the time," she explains with a shrug. "I'm really trying to keep calm, but it's taking everything I have not to go all fangirl on you, Captain."
Huh?
"It's just Steve," I smile and she blushes again as I tie the fabric around her knee nice and snug. "To be honest, I really don't get approached all that often, and when I do the people are usually really great to talk to. And I don't know what fangirling means, but if you need to I'm sure it'll be alright."
She laughs at that, and I know I've completely lost it when I think it's the prettiest sound I've ever heard.
Suddenly a loud crash of thunder sounds, and it reverberates off the walls of the church. She jumps a bit, and I immediately reach for her hand to squeeze in reassurance. I want to kick myself for being too inappropriate, until she squeezes back with a grateful expression marking her lovely face.
The rain starts coming down, harder than before, and the sky turns even darker through the plate-glass windows.
"I don't think we're getting out of here any time soon," she observes and I nod.
I've stopped the bleeding from her leg, but it makes me nervous to have it sit, contaminated with the bacteria from the rain water.
I spot the cask of holy water up near the alter - it'll do.
I gently move her so that her leg is elevated on the pew before I jog to retrieve it. As I stand over her with the pan in hand, the only expression on her face is that of humor.
"Are you going to baptize me?"
I laugh so hard I nearly drop the bowl.
"Just your knee," I tell her. "This may sting a bit, but I'll be as quick as I can. I promise."
She only nods, her face calm.
She's brave.
I set the bowl beside her before reaching for the tear in her jeans. The hole in the knee is quite large, but I can't see the entire cut. I look to her for permission, and she nods with a sweet smile.
I rip the material inch by inch, purposely ignoring the catch in both of our breathing until most of her thigh is bared to me.
The cut isn't very deep at all, but it's large - spanning almost the entire way around her leg. I tear off another piece of cloth from my jacket, dip it in the holy water, and squeeze the excess over the cut. She jerks just a bit, but remains still and quiet.
"I'm sorry," I say quietly, running the freshly soaked cloth across the score in her skin.
"I'm not as fragile as I look, Steve." She replies and pats my shoulder.
The small touch from her sends a violent shiver down my spine.
"I believe that ... So, what's with all the books?" I motion with my free hand toward the pile on the floor.
"I'm a grad student at Georgetown, and a bit of nerd if I'm being honest." I smile at that, and she continues. "I'm studying law, but history is really my passion. Before the storm hit, I went to the library to pick these up for the weekend."
I look at the stack of books on the floor; An Exploration of the American Revolution's Famous Battles, Vikings : Their Role in the Settlement of European Nations, and Pearl Harbor - the Beginning of World War II for America.
"Interesting selection," I observe. "So you're just reading these for fun? I can't imagine anyone wanting to spend their weekend brushing up on this old stuff unless they had to."
I look at her then, and her eyes tighten just slightly in the corners - an angry expression.
"I'm sorry," I amend before she can reply. "I didn't mean to offend you. I just very rarely meet anyone with a genuine interest in history."
The anger disappears and is replaced with her sweet expression I've grown overly fond of.
"That's true," she agrees. "It's really sad if you think about it. How are we supposed to move forward if we don't learn from the past? ... I guess I have my father to thank for my interest. When I was growing up, he'd tell me stories about my family history. He taught me that everyone should know where they come from, and that will help them to find who they are. That got me interested in my personal heritage, and then that grew into a passion for history in general."
Marry me.
I clear my throat.
"Family history, huh?" I ask and her eyes widen. "MacLeod. That's Scottish, right?"
She smiles a full, perfect smile and it almost knocks the winds out of me.
"You bet. I was afraid I was going to have to rethink my feelings toward you if you said Irish. Everyone guesses Irish." She says 'Irish' like it leaves a bad taste in her mouth.
Feelings toward me?! What are her feelings toward me?!
"I've known a few Scots in my day," I reply and she raises a brow. "And they taught me to know better than to mix up the two - I wouldn't dare."
She laughs.
"I don't know ... when I was growing up I didn't have much interest in history, but I was damn passionate about my country. The men in my family were all soldiers, and it was all I ever wanted. They taught me about loyalty and bravery and everything they acquired from their time in the service. It's funny how some lessons stick with you for a lifetime, isn't it? Your father sounds like really a wise man."
She looks down at her lap and takes a deep breath.
"Yeah, he was." She says quietly.
Her lips turn down at the corners and a glossy sheen forms in her eyes. I drop the cloth. God damn you to hell, Rogers. That expression of sadness is like an iron fist straight to the gut. I want nothing more than to hold her tight to my chest and wipe the tears from her eyes.
Before I can stop myself, I reach my hand out to her, and stroke her cheek with the back of my knuckles.
"I am so sorry, Rose."
She looks up at me, startled. I start to pull my hand away, but she catches it in hers and holds it against the soft, warm skin of her cheek.
"It's okay," she replies. "It's been over five years ... I guess some wounds just don't go away or not easily at least ... We were really close. My mother died giving birth to me, so it was always just me and Da. Growing up we had a big farm in West Virginia. I loved it there and I can't imagine having a better childhood than the one I did. We didn't have a lot of money, but Da made sure I never wanted for anything. We were too far away from any town I couldn't attend regular school, so Da hired several tutors for me - really good ones. I learned just as much, if not more than the rest of the kids my age.
Then when it came time for college, Da told me he wouldn't settle for anything less than the best. Georgetown offered the most scholarships, so there I went. I'm the first person to ever attend college in my family, and going to a really good school like that ... Da was really proud. I hated to leave him all on his own, but he told me he would drag me there kicking and screaming if that's what it came to. We stayed in close contact. I traveled home as often as I could and he'd visit me as often as he could. Everything was great, and then a few weeks after Christmas ... I got a call from one of the boys Da hired to help with the cattle. It's not clear what happened exactly, but they - they found his body in the barn.
I guess he was trying to saddle one of the horses when he had a massive stroke. It killed him ... quickly ... but I'll never forgive myself. If I had been there I could have done something. And then maybe ... maybe he'd still be-"
She doubles over as violent sobs wrack through her body, and she's shaking so hard, I'm afraid she'll shake herself apart. I wrap my arms around her as tight as I can without hurting her, and gently rub her back. Seeing her in pain is honestly going to kill me; I can't take it. Her face is right in the crook of my neck, and as I feel the tears and gasping breaths against my skin, I realize this girl - this stranger - has changed my life.
I've known her for less than an hour, and the idea of us parting ways today and never seeing her again, makes me question what life would be like without her.
I can't even try to pretend that I'm only helping her out of a gentleman's obligation - I can't.
As she wraps her arms around my back, some of her face is exposed to me. I lean in close and speak softly in her ear.
"There was nothing you could have done, Rose. Even if you were there, it still would have happened. Even if he'd gotten medical attention, a stroke like that still would have taken him. It wasn't your fault, and carrying this guilt inside you is going to do nothing more than take over the rest of your life. Every happy moment you have will be haunted by it, as I'm sure you know already. You'll never forget the loss, and there will always be a part of you that hurts like hell every time you think of him, but you can live with that. And I know it is the hardest thing in the world ... but you have to let him go. I didn't know your father, and I can't speak on his behalf, but from what you've told me I'd bet you were his world. He wouldn't want you to torture yourself like this."
"I miss him." She says so quietly, I barely catch it.
"You always will," I reply. "I can promise you that, but he's still with you."
She looks up at me with wide, wet eyes.
"Who did you lose, Steve?"
How the hell do I answer that?
"Everyone and everything in one way or another." She lays her hand on my shoulder and I lean into it. "My parents died before the procedure with the serum. They never got to see me the way I am now. Losing them was tough, but when they died I just didn't feel connected to it. At that time I was so focused on getting into the war - it was the only thing I thought about ... Then I thought my best friend was killed in a mission he followed me into, and losing Buck was the worst thing that's ever happened to me.
And then the crash happened, and when I woke up nothing was the same. Everyone I knew was dead, and the world I lived in was gone. Suddenly I was surrounded by strangers who said they were on my side and that they were helping me, but I couldn't trust a single one of them. I still can't. Back in my time if you wore a uniform you were a good guy, and that's just not true anymore.
I was alone for such a long a time, and sometimes, I still feel that way ... It doesn't matter what I'm doing or who I'm working for - I'm not supposed to be here. I don't belong here in this time ... There's a damn good reason you grow old and die. Life is a cycle that should never be disturbed. You're born, you do your best at whatever you do during your lifetime, you pass on your knowledge and legacy if you have one, and then you move on.
I won't say that I wish I was dead, because I don't. But sometimes, I really think everything would be better off if I was."
She holds my chin between her fingers, forcing me to meet her gaze.
"That is not true." She says angrily, "Do you have any idea how much good you've done? Steve, you've saved the freaking world! Millions of people still have their lives because of you! You are the figure everyone looks to when there's trouble, because you are everything that is right with the world. You're so brave and unfailingly kind. You don't even know me and you've gone out of your way to help me and comfort me. Steve you're like ... the one real superhero!"
I lean forward and touch my lips to hers, hesitantly. Something about her pulls me to her in the same way gravity pulls us to the Earth. I've never felt like this in my life; not even with Peggy - the first girl I ever loved.
Rose responds with force, gripping the hair on the back of my head, and urging me closer.
Keeping her injured leg in mind, I pull her so there is no space between our bodies. GOOD, LORD! She feels so good pressed against me. I have one hand on the small of her back, and with the other - I comb my fingers through the silky curls of her hair. She moans, just a bit, but the vibration that comes along with the sound resonates right in my bones.
I run my tongue across the soft, plushness of her lower lip. She opens her mouth in reaction, and that's all I need. As soon as our tongues meet, I feel an explosion rock through me. We hold each other impossibly tighter, and I can't withhold a groan when she starts to roam my body with her hands. She starts with my arms, squeezing and tracing the lines of my biceps. She moves again - her fingertips gently running down the length of my abdomen. I gasp into her mouth, and she takes the lead with her tongue.
I don't have control of my body anymore. It's all about sensation now; I move in response to her touches just as she does for me. I have one hand on the back of her neck, keeping her tight to me, and with the other - I explore. Her body is a beautiful masterpiece, so perfect God himself must have spent days chiseling her. The lines of her are soft and pliable and her curves are the kind women would kill to have and men would kill to touch.
It doesn't register at first, but when it does, it hits me like a freight train. What I'm feeling under my hands is flesh, not fabric.
I've pushed up her sweater and the soft skin of her stomach, right above the waistband of jeans, is scalding my hands. Rose is moaning softly, still pulling on my hair, and trembling all over - her skin is covered in goose bumps.
WHAT. IS. WRONG. WITH. YOU?!
It's excruciating, but I pull my hands away from her body, and remove my mouth from hers. I'm panting like I've just ran a damn marathon, and a vivid red flows up Rose's neck to settle in her cheeks.
"I'm sorry," I gasp out. "I shouldn't have done that."
The most awful expression of hurt and rejection flashes on her face, and then she goes into motion. She pulls down her sweater and readjusts her ruined jeans, and then she tries to calm the mass of fluffy curls made frizzy by my hands. She doesn't meet my eyes once.
"It's okay," she wipes at her face. "I-um ... The rain has let up a little, I'm going to try to get a cab. Thanks again for all of your help Mr. Rogers, I really appreciate it."
She bends over, trying to keep the weight off of her hurt leg as she gathers her books.
What? She can't leave!
"Rose, stop." I grab her shoulder and she stills, but doesn't look at me. "I'm sorry for being so forward. I never meant to take advantage of you like that, I don't know what came over me. Please don't leave."
She looks at me and all of her features are marked with anger.
"I'm not mad about you being too forward, Steve! I'm mad because you just - you pushed me away! You do realize you're the one who kissed me, right? And you know what? I thought that we - I thought that there was something, you know, between us. I mean why the hell would you kiss me like that if you didn't feel it too? Oh well. Seriously it's fine. I just want to get the fuck out of this church -"
"ROSE!" I shout. "I only apologized because I thought I went too far. We've just met and we hardly know each other, but there's this pull ... I can't think straight around you. Believe me - there's nothing I want more than I want you right now, but it's not appropriate."
Her lips turn up in the corners, a tiny smirk.
"Yeah, yeah, I know." I continue, "It's old fashioned and so am I, but you're a lady Rose. You're a beautiful, proper lady and I won't treat you as anything less than that."
She reaches for my hand and squeezes it tight.
"So ... it's not just me?" She asks carefully.
"God no!" I shake my head. "You honestly have no idea."
"Actually, I think I do."
I don't think it's possible for her to want me the way I want her, but thank God she wants me at all!
"Doubt it," I counter and she raises a brow at me. I lean forward to kiss it with a laugh. "But you need to understand Rose, it isn't just the-um ..."
"Lust?" She offers.
I nod.
"It's more than that."
She looks around and lets out a quiet, incredulous laugh.
"This is crazy," she breathes. "It isn't normal to feel like this about someone you've just met ... Don't get me wrong, I don't have much experience in this sort of thing, but I know enough."
"Honey," I say and she blushes at the term. "I really think it's best not question it."
"What are we going to do?"
"Hell if I know ... But I think a pretty good start is for us to get out of here, and back to my apartment where I can doctor you up."
"And then?" She smirks,
"Then," I smile widely at her and she giggles. "I'm going to try to explain to Bucky how I managed to bring home an angel, and once I do that - I'm going to make you dinner."
She looks shocked.
"Okay, I've got two questions. One - by Bucky do you mean James Buchanan Barnes? The best friend you lost?"
Now it's my turn to look shocked.
"You know Bucky?"
"No," she shakes her head. "I know you. And everything there is to read or see about you, usually has some mention of him."
Oh, I see. What the hell is there to read and see about me? Never mind ... "Scrawny punk from Brooklyn turned 'Avenger Superhero' after being injected with a magical serum" ... Good lord, these people really don't know anything.
"I see," I reply. "Well after he gets over the shock of seeing me with a beautiful woman for the first time in almost a century, I'm sure you and Buck will get along just fine. Hell, he'll probably try to steal you away from me if I'm being honest."
"Not possible."
Her response is so immediate and direct, I feel my chest swell up. She's mine.
"You had another question?"
"Oh, yeah! Question two - you cook?"
"I don't cook well, but it's the thought that counts right?" I laugh and so does she.
"Well Captain, you're in luck. I just happen to be a very good cook, so I can manage dinner, or at least coach you through it ... And now that we've got that taken care of, how exactly are we going to get out of here and back to your apartment?"
Through the window on the far side of the church, I can see it's still raining but not nearly as hard as before. I can carry her at a jog and be home in five minutes; we'll both be wet, but we're already soaked now so what's a little more?
"Do you trust me?"
She nods.
I peel off my hoodie and give it to her to put on. One of the sleeves is missing - wrapped around her injured leg, but the hood will keep the rain out of her face. I reach for her canvas tote bag and carefully place her books inside, closing the zipper to protect them. I sling the bag over my shoulder and look at her.
We make quite the pair. She's disheveled, injured, and undeniably beautiful and I'm half naked, sopping wet, and flushed from meeting the girl of my dreams.
"What are you going to do?" She asks, confused and slightly wary.
Instead of answering, I pick her up - bridal style. Bridal style. Huh, that has a nice ring to it.
She wraps her arms around my neck and looks at me like I'm insane.
"Steve, you cannot carry me like this all the way back to your apartment. Seriously, put me down and I'll walk."
She starts to wriggle a bit in my arms, so I squeeze her tighter to me as I make my way to the door.
"I'm not putting you down because you couldn't walk if you tried, and if you tried you'd only end up hurting your leg even more. Not to mention you limping your way back to my apartment would take quadruple the time it'll take me to run us there. You're light as a feather Rose, and to be honest - I like having you in my arms. Now hold on tight and I'll have us home in no time."
She smiles sweetly and kisses my cheek as I pull the hood further down to cover more of her face.
I kick the door open and take off at a sprint. As I run, Rose keeps a tight grip around my neck. For the first few minutes her body is tense in my arms, but as we move along the empty streets she relaxes.
I check my watch as I climb the stairs to my building - 5 minutes 52 seconds - not too bad. Buck and I live on the fourth floor, so only a few more flights of stairs to go.
"Could you have done this before the serum?" Rose asks suddenly. "Carried a girl as you ran and climbed up stairs?"
That makes me laugh.
"Definitely not," I reply. "I couldn't even run a block without getting winded, and my lunchbox was a burden back in those days."
She smiles and settles her head against my shoulder.
In front of my door, I kick it twice - signaling Bucky to let me in.
Buck opens the door, naked except for some running shorts - with a sandwich in the hand of his metal arm. He looks from Rose to me and back again before choking down a mouthful.
"What the hell?"
I almost want to laugh at his response. Yeah buddy, I have no idea either.
Rose extends her hand and Buck instantly reaches to take it in his own - ingrained manners coming through the shock.
"Bucky, right?" She asks and Buck nods slowly. "It's so nice to meet you, Bucky. I'm Rose."
"The pleasure is mine ma'am." He replies and moves aside so I can carry her through the door. "Are you ... hurt, Rose?"
I place Rose gently on the couch and elevate her knee before explaining.
"We both got caught in the rain. She tripped over something and sprained her knee, there's a cut too but it's not as bad."
I watch and try not to drool as Rose peels off the drenched hoodie and her sweater - leaving her in only a thin, white tank top. I hear a sudden intake of breath and I turn to see Bucky staring, as captivated as I am.
Rose looks up at our reactions and quickly turns a vibrant shade of red.
"Sorry! I-uh they're really wet and I'm kind of cold."
Bucky coughs and looks away quickly, and I immediately grab the blanket from the back of the couch, and wrap it around her shoulders.
I run the back of my hand down the length of her face and her teeth begin to chatter.
"You're frozen straight to the bone, aren't you?" I ask and she smiles and squeezes my shoulder. "You need to warm up - do you think you could stand for a shower or should I run you a hot bath?"
"Shower, please. I'm sure I can stand long enough to defrost and if I sit down in a bath, I don't think I'll be able to get out again."
I can't stop myself from kissing her nose before I pick her up and turn in the direction of the bathroom.
"I'll get you some of my clothes to wear," I tell her. "Buck, will you grab her a towel?"
Buck jerks and nods his head rapidly, almost sprinting to the linen closet.
I set her on the edge of the bathroom sink while I grab some clothes for her.
Alright, my sweats will probably drown her, but they'll keep her warm at least ... a plain white long-sleeve shirt ... and a pair of wool socks. Damn, I hope she doesn't get sick. She could get the flu or worse, pneumonia!
On my way back to the bathroom, Bucky intercepts me. He places two large, fluffy towels on top of the pile in my arms and raises his eyebrows at me.
"Give me a minute." I say,
Rose is still sitting on the edge of the sink, struggling to untie my makeshift knee brace. I undo the knots with two pulls and she looks up at me and smiles.
"The clothes won't fit, of course." I tell her. "But they'll do for now. I can't have my girl getting sick on me."
She grabs the chest of my shirt and pulls me in for a quick, chaste kiss.
"Thank you, Steve."
"Of course. Make sure you let some hot water run into that cut - it'll sting, but it will cleanse the wound. If you have a problem, just yell for me. I'm going to get changed and make something warm to drink. Do you have a preference?"
"Cider, if you have it." She replies, "That's my favorite."
"Then cider it is."
I help her off the sink and carefully onto her feet. As I walk out, I close the door behind me. I have to try very hard not to think about her getting naked just a few feet away from me. The shower starts and I'm freed of my inappropriate thoughts when Buck comes to stand in front me across the counter.
"Care to explain?" He asks as he picks up the remnants of his sandwich and wolfs it down in two bites.
"I'd love to if I had any idea about what's going on." I reply as I carelessly throw on a set of dry clothes. "I helped her out of the rain and we talked for a while and then we kissed and now ... Buck, I'm screwed."
The smug bastard throws his head back and laughs like a hyena. I snag a washcloth from the sink and throw it at his face - he catches it, of course.
"Quit your cackling and give me some advice!"
"Christ, Steve," he gasps out. "You would be the one to fall head over heels in less than a day's time."
"Yeah Buck, you're a real comic genius. I need your help - you know more about this stuff than I do."
"This stuff meaning girls?" He smirks at me and I nod. "Yeah I guess I have a bit more experience in that department, but I've been out of the game for just as long as you have Steve. I honestly couldn't tell you a thing about the kind of girls the world is full of now."
"I was never in the game in the first place!" I throw my hands up, and Buck snorts out another laugh. "Back in the day, you had a new date every weekend ... and Rose is - different from the rest of the girls I've met since I woke up. She reminds me of the girls from our time. She's sweet and smart and funny and-"
"You're a lovesick puppy, yeah I get it." He interrupts, "I don't know what to say, pal ... You're obviously crazy about her and she seems to feel the same way about you. I don't see the problem."
"The problem is that I've known her for all of ..." I look at my watch. "Six and a half hours and I want to marry her. I can barely keep my hands off her and I can't even think about her leaving, because it makes me feel like I'm drowning. Buck, I can't think straight. Something is wrong here - feeling like this about a stranger isn't normal."
"I wouldn't say that's true. Whether you believe in it or not, love at first sight happens all the time. It happened to my parents - a week after they met, my dad proposed to my mom ... and even if you didn't recognize it then, I think you started falling for Peggy the day you met her. The only advice I have for you is to stop thinking about it. Quit asking yourself if it's right or normal or what the hell ever. Just go with it."
He's right. I know he's right, but it's easier said than done.
"I feel guilty," I say and Buck's narrows his eyes at me.
"What for?"
"About Peggy ... I loved her and I really thought I'd never love anyone the way I loved her, but the way I feel about Rose makes that look like a joke ... And I feel guilty about wanting Rose. I'm ninety-five years old, and she's basically a baby. She has a whole lifetime left in front of her and a part of me thinks she'd be happier to have someone that actually has things in common with her. Not to mention that because of the life I live, everyone I care about is put in danger - all the time. I don't have to worry about you or Sam because you can take care of yourselves, but Rose can't. She's innocent and the minute I involve her in my life, I put a target on her back. How can I start a relationship with her when I know that?"
Buck shakes his head.
"This is some heavy shit, Steve," he says. "You've go to let go of the stuff with Peggy. You loved her - I know that, she knew that. But's that time is long past pal, and you feeling guilty about it is pointless. Move on ... I get where you're coming from with your worries about Rose. Sure there's a hell of an age difference, but are you gonna be alone for the rest of your life because you're technically a senior citizen? I'll answer that for you - no. I don't think you could stay away from her if you tried anyway. And I don't see the point in you thinking she'd be happier with someone else. You don't get to make that choice for her Steve. If she wants you, then she wants all that comes with you. Will she be in more danger as Captain America's girl? Yes, but you can protect her ... Quit looking for something to end this before you even get started."
"What would I do without you, Buck?" I wonder, not realizing I've said it aloud.
"Worry yourself to death probably." He replies, "Now, I need to ask you question and you better not hit me for it. It's for your own good."
"What?" I say, wary.
"Are you sure you can trust this girl?"
"Absolutely," I reply without a doubt. "Why?"
"This is the part where you don't hit me," he holds his hands up. "S.H.I.E.L.D. has planted people in your life before, and now that you've taken them down along with Hydra, I wouldn't be surprised if they try to do it again. They're too smart to plant someone obvious. You would see them coming from a mile away, but no one would suspect Rose. So far all you've seen is a beautiful, unassuming, sweet girl - but for all you know - she could have been inserted in your life as a damsel in distress."
Everything he says makes perfect sense. S.H.I.E.L.D./Hydra know my weaknesses. They know I could never bypass someone who needs my help.
"I hear you," I reply. "It could be a possibility, but I trust her Buck. I trust her completely."
I hear the shower stop, so I grab three mugs and fill them with hot cider.
"You have good instincts pal, and you're probably right - but I'm still trying to get back the part of me that was able to trust people. Let me do some digging, just a basic background check and sweep. I can have all of the info I need by three. If I don't see any red flags, I promise I'll drop it."
I don't want to invade Rose's privacy, but I have to do whatever I can to put Bucky's mind at ease.
I nod as the bathroom door opens.
I really didn't think she could get any more beautiful, but I was wrong. Her skin is flushed a gorgeous, freshly-scrubbed pink and the color makes her look even more youthful and lively. She has towel dried her hair and the white-blonde curls look so soft, I have to restrain myself from reaching for them. My clothes almost swallow her whole, but she looks completely comfortable, and I can't deny the testosterone rush I get from seeing my girl in my clothes.
"Thanks for the shower," she says, her voice breathy and soft. "I feel so much better."
"You look beautiful." I reply, and she snorts - causing Bucky to laugh with her. "How's your leg?"
"Not too bad." She limps over to me, and settles herself against my side. I wrap my arm around her as she takes the mug from my hand and takes a big drink. "It's still pretty sore, but the cut doesn't sting at all anymore."
I pick her up by the waist, chuckling at her squeal of surprise and place her on the counter-top.
"I'll go grab the first aid kit."
I keep all the medical supplies in the bathroom connected to my room. I don't know why. There have been very few times when I've actually needed first aid. I guess it's just a habit from being in Nazi Germany. We were taught to keep the necessary supplies on us at all times - no exceptions.
I return to the kitchen with the kit to find Rose smiling and Buck laughing. Someone else might be jealous to see this exchange, but not me. Buck is my brother in everything but blood, and there's not a single soul I trust more than him. And I thought I knew how charming Rose was, but I'm surprised that she's really making Bucky laugh - one of his genuine, hysterical laughs that he had before Hydra got a hold of him. I could kiss her for that.
"So you two are getting along then?" I ask and Rose nods with a wide smile.
"You bet, pal." Buck replies, "I just might have to steal your girl from you once she get's back on both feet. I think I'll take her dancing because lord knows that's one thing you can't do."
Rose giggles and I throw a half-hearted dirty look at Bucky.
I pull up the leg of her sweatpants, just past her knee. The cut looks good - clean and drained. The rest of her knee is not so great; there is the beginning of some serious black and purple bruising, and it's swelling at a rapid rate. I'm thinking this is a serious sprain, and I'm hoping she hasn't torn a ligament or damaged the muscle. I work my thumbs around the joint as gently as I can, feeling rushes of fluid as I move along.
Rose makes no noise of complaint about my prodding, but she can't hold in a wince when I reach a particularly tender spot.
"I'm sorry honey. I think your knee's going to hurt like hell for a while ... I'm guessing you're not going to let me take you to the hospital to run some tests, so I'm going to put on a brace, use some ice, and elevate it for as long as possible. Sound okay?"
"Yes. Thank you, Captain." Rose giggles and I playfully pull on her ear.
I grab some antibacterial cream from the kit, and apply a thin layer over the cut, before dressing it lightly in gauze. I take a fresh ace bandage out of the package and wrap her knee. I'm so focused on my task I don't even notice Buck standing to my side, holding a large bag of ice.
"If you two will excuse me, I've got some homework to do." He says, and knowing that he's going to run the background check on Rose - I simply nod. "It was an absolute pleasure to meet you Rose. Once you figure out this guy isn't all that special, I'll be more than happy to take his place."
Rose laughs and holds out her hand, which Buck promptly kisses. I nudge him with my shoulder, and with a wink at me - he disappears back to the computer room.
"I like him," Rose says, and that makes me absurdly happy. "I can't even imagine what it was like for you to lose him, and then get him back again. I'm really happy you have him."
"Yeah," I reply. "It kind of felt like my life started making sense again when Buck came back. Pretty much all of his memory has returned now, but it was a long time coming. He told me that he remembers the big stuff crystal clear, but every now and then he'll still get flashes of the little things - like what the street looked like on the way to the post office. He told me they're like random pictures that just show up in his mind, and I'm still trying to help him piece it all together."
"He loves you Steve."
"Did he tell you that?"
"He didn't need to."
I look up at her and I see a glassy sheen coating her big brown eyes. She's crying?
"Rosie, are you okay?"
She nods her head with a genuine smile, and roughly wipes at her eyes with the backs of her hands.
"I'm fine I promise ... just ... overcome, I guess. I know how much it hurt when I lost my father, and I didn't have any one else - and it makes me really sad to picture you feeling that way."
"Oh honey," I breathe. "I think you've got just about the biggest heart in the world ... But you've been through your fair share as well. You know that even when it hurts like hell, you still find a way to keep going. That's what I did when I lost Buck - just kept pushing ... and now I have him back and I have you. I'm the happiest guy alive. Don't worry about me, Rosie."
She leans forward to place her head on my chest, and we wrap our arms around each other. Me and her molded together feels perfect - like two puzzle pieces finally coming together.
"Da used to call me that. Rosie."
Shit.
"Sorry, I won't do it again if it upsets you."
She shakes her head.
"No," she shakes her head. "Keep saying it. It's really nice to hear again."
"You've got it, Rosie." I kiss the top of her head. "Are you hungry?"
"Starving."
"Me too," I reply. "Let me look through the fridge and see if we've got anything edible."
Buck and I basically live off of cold cuts and gatorade, so we rarely have any real food. I highly doubt that Rose wants a crappy sandwich for dinner, so I need to figure something out.
The only thing I can find that can actually be cooked is a pound of hamburger, an assortment of pasta noodles, and some tomato sauce.
"A creative twist on regular spaghetti, then." Rose announces and starts giving rapid fire instructions about pans, and stovetop settings.
...
Almost an hour later (a job Rose says should only have taken twenty minutes), we've got 'Alternative Spaghetti' which actually doesn't look too bad.
I help Rose off her coaching seat on the countertop, and carry her to one of the chairs around the small, rarely-used dining table.
"Do you have anything to drink?" She asks, digging into her plate.
I walk back to the fridge and take a look.
"We've got some ginger ale, coke ... some different kinds of sports drinks and ... some bottled water." I reply, "Buck and I can't feel the affects of alcohol, so we never have it. I can run by the liquor store down the street and get some wine or something if you want."
"No thanks, I've got a strict no alcohol policy. A ginger ale would be perfect though."
I grab a can for her, a bottle of water for myself, and sit back down.
"So you don't drink at all?"
She shakes her head vehemently, popping the top of the can and taking a sip.
"That's surprising for someone in college nowadays, right?" I ask and Rose shrugs her shoulders. I can see that this conversation is making her uncomfortable, but I have a feeling that this new bit of information might help me get a glimpse into one of the hidden parts of her personality. I want that connection with her - to know why she does certain things and makes certain choices. "Is that a personal preference or did you have a ... bad experience or something?"
"A little bit of both." She says, but won't meet my eye. "I'm fine with other people drinking, but it's just not for me. I can't handle being out of control and that's always exactly what happens."
A shiver runs through her, and I immediately get an uneasy feeling in my gut. I'll drop the topic for now, but I hope I find out the cause of her reaction at some point.
"I'm wildly impressed Steve." Her beautiful smile is back and that makes me feel incredibly relieved. "You managed to make me dinner just fine, after all."
I snort.
"It doesn't count when you have to coach me through each step. Next time I'm going to do it on my own - start to finish ... You probably won't be impressed though with the food poisoning you're likely to get."
We laugh for several minutes. I don't have an idea in the world about what we're laughing at, but I'm pretty sure it's because we're both wiped.
I wolf down the rest of my meal and she does the same to hers. I see her eyelids start to droop as I take her plate to clear in the sink.
"You're exhausted, aren't you?" I observe and she replies with a massive yawn.
"I'll take that as a yes."
"Well," she yawns again. "Not all of us have your super human strength and rebound rate. Take pity on me sweet Captain, I'm just a humble human."
I laugh like a maniac. She's so damn funny!
I pick her up from her chair and carry her bridal style to my bedroom. Jeez, got bride on the brain much, Rogers?
Holding Rose in one hand, I use the other to turn down the blanket and sheets. They're my favorite red flannel set, so she should be nice and warm. I lay her down gently, and pull the covers up around her.
"Under normal circumstances I'd be really flustered about you laying me down in what I'm assuming is your bed." She says suddenly, burrowing deeper into the mattress. "But right now I can't find the energy to care."
I chuckle and lean down to kiss her forehead. Her hand suddenly comes up to cup the back of my neck, keeping me right where I'm happy to be.
"Thank you for everything, Steve." She mumbles, already half asleep. "I really hope you're still here when I wake up, and this isn't all a dream ... I'd really ... really miss you ... if you ... just ... dream."
Just like that, she's out like a light, leaving me with an unshakeable urge to wake her up - if only to reassure her that this is as real as it gets, that I'm not going anywhere, that I'd really miss her too.
But she looks so peaceful I let her sleep. I'm content to sit here on the edge of the bed watching her, because no matter how much I look at her - it isn't enough.
I don't know how much time actually passes, but when I look up from her face I see Buck standing in the doorway with a folder in hand. He motions for me to follow him into the living room, and I do after pulling the covers up around Rose and closing the bedroom door behind me.
"Is she okay?" Buck asks and I nod.
"She's just worn out I think ... So you found what you needed to?"
Buck nods and hands me the folder.
There is photo after photo of Rose: each picture showing a new angle of her.
Her eyes are closed as she sits on a park bench smiling toward the sky, the sun lighting up her beautiful features. In the next she's curled up in a chair at the public library, a pair of glasses sliding down her nose that's stuck in a book. Then she's sitting by herself in a lecture hall biting on a pen, looking extremely bored.
And then I come across something different. There's a photo of an older man with a friendly smile that's almost hidden in a massive beard, the curly hair on his face and head is dark black and lined with grey. His nose is the same shape as Rose's - only bigger, and he's got the same exact shape and dark brown color of Rose's eyes. This man is Rose's father.
I've never met him. I didn't know he existed until this morning, and this suddenly feels like a great loss. I study his photo with overwhelming sadness because I will never get to meet this man who shaped Rose into the person she is. I will never get to prove my worth to this man, and I will never get to thank him for single-handedly raising the woman I could be in love with.
I delicately flip through a few more photos before I reach the formal report.
Rose Margaret MacLeod
DOB: December 18th, 1991 - Hardy County, West Virginia.
Address: 2100 N Pierce St, Arlington, VA, 22209. Apartment 8C.
Mobile Number: 571 - 362 - 1443
Banking Details: Chase Commercial Bank. Account Number : 443286. Current Balance : $322.14
Occupation: Graduate Student - Georgetown Law/History Minor. GPA : 3.27
Prior Education: No official records found (probable cause to assume homeschooling).
Father: Simon William Rupert MacLeod
DOB: March 18th, 1965 (Inverness, Scotland), Deceased January 2, 2010.
Mother: Catherine Dorothea (Bishop) MacLeod
DOB: July 3rd, 1972 (Baton Rouge, Louisiana), Deceased December 18th, 1991.
m. Simon MacLeod
- June 22, 1990.
Political Affiliations: None Found
Religious Affiliations: Catholic
Sexual Orientation: Straight
Relationship Status: None Found
"So she's clean?" I ask and Bucky nods - his mouth set in a grim line. "If she's clean what's that look for? Did you find something in her apartment?"
Buck shakes his head and drops his shoulders.
"She's clean. Her apartment is clean - she's perfect." He says, but it comes out in a tone resembling bitter. "It's not like I was suspicious of her or anything, but when I started - I dug pretty thoroughly and only came up with the basics. That folder was really all I could come up with because there wasn't anything there on the surface. Rose rarely travels further than the library downtown, and I don't think she has many friends - if any at all. I went to her apartment and the only personal touches I could find were pictures of her family, and enough books to make you wonder how the hell she has time to read all of 'em. I think this girl lives a really damn lonely life Steve."
I probably could have put all of that together on my own, but hearing it makes me feel undeniably devastated. It kills me to think that Rose spends all of her time alone, and not necessarily by choice, but because she doesn't have anyone.
"Okay she's not a spy or a plant - so what's your problem Buck?"
"The last thing I checked on was her criminal record. As I figured it came up clean, but her name set off a red flag in the database. I looked a little further and found out that the flag went up because there was a sealed file. The seal was arranged by the state, so it was essentially a joke and I broke through it pretty easily. My problem is what the seal was hiding."
He reaches into his pocket, pulls out a flash drive, and tosses it to me.
"The file was from a criminal case in which Rose was the victim." Buck drops his head again and almost looks close to tears. "A little over five years ago, Rose was sexually assaulted at some frat party ... The date was a couple months after her father's death, and the case details read that while Rose was drunk, one of the older fraternity brothers - Thomas Distler pulled her away from the party and raped her. Someone found Rose the next morning and took her to the hospital where they performed a rape kit. The kit tested negative because the necessary evidence needed to test positive, disappears only a couple of hours after the rape is committed. Her doctor testified that there were definite signs of sexual trauma, but because the kit was negative - Distler walked ... The bastard raped a defenseless girl and got off on a technicality."
It feels like someone lit a fire in my chest, and its spreading throughout my body. I want to hurt him, I want to cause damage and see him in pain. I want to hunt him down and kill him for daring to hurt Rose. I want to kill his goddamn lawyer for defending a rapist. I want to kill whoever ruled that, that disgusting piece of rot was innocent!
It happened just a few months after her father died. She must have been completely beside herself. She can't even talk about it now for Christ's sake! She probably only went to that party to get drunk and try to ignore her grief ... Oh God ... She doesn't drink - THAT is why she doesn't drink ... She said she can't handle being out of control and that's because the last time she was out of control, some fucker took advantage of her helplessness and raped her!
"Why was the case sealed Buck? Who petitioned for it?"
"Distler's father - Patrick Distler petitioned for it." Buck grimaces with disgust. "He filed on the grounds that a rape accusation on his son's criminal record could pose a 'serious threat' to his future."
"But both parties have to formally agree in order to seal a case file, right?"
Buck nods. "Rose signed off on it without comment ... Steve, I'm guessing that the seal means just as much to her as it does to Distler - just for different reasons."
"Where is Distler now?" I choke out. "Is he still around this area? What does he do?"
"Three years ago, he opened his law firm. Apparently he's one of the best defense attorney's on the east coast."
"Of-fucking-course he is."
"There's more Steve, hang on." Buck jogs back to his bedroom and returns with another folder. "Distler has personally defended and got off several members of Hydra after the immediate arrests were made. None of the names are familiar to me, but all of them were S.H.I.E.L.D. officers, so I think it's safe to assume they were pretty important to Hydra as well. The names I found right away were - Jason Denning, Brian Sexton, Vincent Hobbes, and Geoffrey Windsor. I wouldn't be surprised if there's more, though."
"If he defended them he's either Hydra as well or sympathetic toward the cause. You ran a check on him too, right?"
"Of course ... I thought the same thing when I saw the reports, but there's nothing there to indicate Hydra involvement. I think he just genuinely doesn't have an issue with defending scumbags - especially scumbags with heavy wallets. Steve this guy is a monster, but he's smart. He covers his tracks better than a lot of the people I've seen, and he's always got an escape route. He should be serving life in prison for all of the crimes he's committed, but there's no way he'll ever see the inside of a jail cell - he's made sure of that."
"Maybe he won't see jail time, but he will see justice. I'm going to give it to him."