I LEGIT FORGOT THAT SAM WILSON LIVES IN D.C! I REALLY DID! SORRY. ANYWAY, HOPE YOU LIKED IT!

GOD BLESS AND GOOD DAY!

~THE LUPINE SOJOURNER

So...

Slightly awkward story. Sam actually lives in Washington D.C, so...yeah. My bad. We stayed in touch, however, and I apologized profusely for the miscomunication, something Sam repeatedly told me not to worry about. I still felt pretty bad about it. Turns out he had just been in town for a few days and it just happened to coincide with the alien invasion nearly a month ago now. He works in Veterans Affairs and got a little distant when I asked why.

"Lotta people need help. Not enough people helping." He said eventually. I nod, knowing I'd better not press. He seemed a little haunted by something.

"Do you know anyone in the military?" I ask before I can stop myself. He sighs heavily, and I wonder if I just overstepped the clear boundaries of...whatever was happening with him and the VA/military. When he looks at me, his face has darkened slightly.

"...I did. When I was on tour." I nod slowly, the pieces finally clicking.

"...Cool." I say awkwardly, unsure of what else to say. "Afganistan, I take it?" I ask tentatively, then realize what the frick I'm saying. Stupid brain. "You don't have to-"

"Afganistan, yeah." He admits, not looking at me. I swallow.

"I am so sorry. I didn't mean to pry, I was just...sometimes I say stupid things before I think it through, an-"

"Ashleigh, it's fine. It's just a little hard sometimes...that's all."

"That's okay. It's not your fault. I was stupid for asking. I'm sorry." I reply quickly.

"No, no. I didn't mean to sound put off, if I did..."

"No, but I can tell my questions hurt you. Sorry."

"You're good, Ash." He replies softly, then clears his throat. "So, where do you work?" He asks in a painfully obvious change of subject. "I take it not the hospital?" I laugh.

"Yeah, no. I'm a librarian. Something about it just...spoke to me. I like it."

"Fair enough. I suppose someone's gotta do it." He says, chuckling slightly. I shake My head.

"It's not that bad, you goof!" I reply, happy we were moving away from more sensitive topics.

"To you, probably." He replies. "Just like I enjoy my job, but all I get are blank, awkward stares when I explain where I work." I squirm slightly, clutching the phone with supreme awkward shyness. Something I desperately hoped he couldn't see over Skype.

"Sam, I am not just saying this to attempt to assuage you. I swear. I seriously do find your job awesome. I respect your decision and am in awe that you found it in you to offer the help veterans need. I just...can't, so...yeah. If you thought I was weirded out by your job, I didn't mean it like that, I swear." I explain. He sighs.

"It's great to hear that. Really. I wasn't trying to patronize or degrade you. I just...didn't know what to say. So I said something stupid...I didn't really..."

"I get it." I interject. "I do that, too. Sorry."

"Me, too." He replies, and we both know the other meant it. We'd been talking like this for a while, be it texting, phone calls, or Skype, figuring out how to talk to one another, what topics were not to be talked about. So far, we've made decent progress, but I know we still have far to go yet. I liked talking to him, though. Sometimes, there were times I felt like he wanted to talk about one thing, but we ended up discussing something else. That was okay. I don't expect him to open up completely to a woman he met during an invasion and lives in a different state. Yeah, no. That ain't gonna happen, and frankly I'm not sure I'd want him to. I can tell there are dark and dreary things he has seen and most likely done. If he couldn't deal with it himself, I had no right expecting him to tell me. I am just a woman he saw fit to stay in contact with after saving my stupid butt from an alien invasion. No reason to think I'd be no more than that to him, at least not now. Maybe soon, we'd be good friends and then maybe best friends, but for now, I'll settle for being...whatever we are. "Hey, I'm thinking we should both be heading off to bed, so...goodnight, sleep tight, all that stuff..." He says in the midst of a yawn. I nod and repeat his farewell. I had to work tomorrow and so did he and it was nearing 11:45. Yeah. We both need sleep.

I collapse on my bed minutes later, sighing contentedly as I pulled the warm covers over me and settled down.

=#=#=#=#=

"So, you and Sam still talking, then?" Stephen asked during our lunch the next day. Every week or two, my brother and I made sure to have lunch together, since we were both busy people and didn't have a lot of other available time to spend together. Apparently, librarians like to swarm the rookie with all the menial, everyday tasks while they handled other, 'more important' things. That was alright, though, because I like the work I was doing.

"Yes, and we are still just friends, Steve." I reply. He smiles.

"Sure you are." I glower at him, but decide not to deny it again. That would seal my doom.

"What about you? Did Christine ask for your help again?" It was his sore point; me attempting, so he claims, to get the couple back together. They were, somehow, still good friends after their mutual breaking-off.

"Yes. A man with a bullet lodged in his..." He took a sip of water to cover his pause as he caught himself before baffling me with medical terms I would never understand. "brain. He was brain-dead and slowly poisoned by the bullet's coating. Dr. West was about to harvest his organs." I nod.

"Nice. Anything else?"

"More of the same, really." He replied, finishing off his entree. I pick up another roll, having finished my chicken parmesan a minute or so ago.

"Oh, come on, Steve. You're saving lives, fishing around in-"

"Performing complicated surgeries on, you mean." Stephen interjects. I roll my eyes. He always corrects me on these kinda things.

"Regardless, you're doing something good." He smiles.

"Yes. Just wish there were more interesting cases available." I can't help but laugh.

"You've wanted to be a neurosurgeon since you were seven and now you're bored?!"

"There's only so much excitement to be had operating on the same organ all day is all I meant." He replies crisply.

"In other words, you're bored and want to do something else." I quip, sipping at my water with a smirk.

"That's not what I meant and you know it." He replies. I wink as I tuck a five dollar bill into the bill pamphlet, standing and kissing his cheek. "Before I forget, I have a dinner and speech tonight." I purse my lips.

"No. I always fall during those things." He cocked a brow.

"You've only been to two." I smirk.

"Once was enough to dissuade me. You wouldn't shut up the second time til I agreed to go, so..." I muse sarcastically, shrugging. "Anyway, gotta get back. Love you!"

"Love you, too." He replies, smiling. I return to the library and all was average work until I closed up at 8:00, starving and ready to relax with dinner and Steven Universe (what? Its entertaining). Eggs and toast had never been so good. I went to bed a few episodes later, knowing I'd be opening tomorrow and that was an early start.

=#=#=#=#=

It was 10:45 at night when my phone rang. Needless to say, I was not happy about being woken up, even if it was only an hour and a half after I'd gone to bed.

"Look, can this wait?" I grumble sleepily, yawning.

"Are you the 'ICE Sister' contact for Stephen Strange?" A young woman asked. I sat up, now not as sleepy. If someone was asking that...and it wasn't Stephen on the other line...oh, frick.

"This is she. Is Stephen alright?" The woman sighs.

"I'm afraid...afraid not..." She tells me warily.

"What's wrong?" I ask, pulling jeans up one-handed (not an easy task). I knew no matter what, I'd have to get dressed, but I prayed it wasn't-

"He was in a car crash. I don't know anything more..." She explains. "He's being brought to the hospital he works at, if you know..." I swallow thickly. It was as bad as I feared. Fricking fudging perfect.

"I know which one. Thank you." I whimper before hanging up and pulling on a bra and shirt and practically leaping over to my closet for shoes before hopping down the hallway to get the Ugg boots on and then I was grabbing the keys and starting the car in the span on what feels like a second and too long all at once. Tearing out of the driveway and toward the hospital, I began to tear up, but blinked them back to focus on driving. There was time for crying later.

Lord, please don't take him. Please, no...no...please spare him. Please...

THIS IS, MOST LIKELY, THE LAST CHAPTER I WILL BE ABLE TO POST UNTIL I CAN GET THE DVD. I AM SSSOOOOO SORRY. I WOULD LOVE TO KEEP WRITING THIS, BUT I CAN'T. I DON'T HAVE THE MOVIE AND SO THAT JUST THROWS A MONKEY WRENCH INTO THIS OPERATION. SO SORRY AGAIN, BUT YOU ALL CAN SUGGEST BONUS CHAPTERS TO OCCUPY YOU LOVELY PEOPLE IN THE MEANTIME, OKAY? LOVE YOU ALL AND CAN'T WAIT TO HAVE THE DVD! HONESTLY!

MERRY CHRISTMAS AND HAPPY HOLIDAYS!