A/N: Sorry for an grammar mistakes- I try to edit best I can but I have no beta so there's bound to be stuff I miss. If you see a mistake please tell me! Disclaimer: Same as before
Another month passed, and it was the happiest of my life. Though he was busy seeking out one of the terrorists' main suppliers, who the Avengers thought was based in California, Steve managed to also find time for me. It seemed to me that ever since he returned from the ice, he hadn't had any good friends to just spend time with. I became that person, and he told me all the stuff he'd bottled up for the past few years. He told about the struggle of conforming to the new culture and trying to keep his integrity and morals. He also told me one day about Peggy, the girl who he'd left in his time and found again as an old lady. I could tell he loved her, even still, but I wasn't jealous. It was possible to love more than one person at a time. That wasn't to say I knew he loved me, even though he'd formally asked me to go out with him like a gentleman would. We just hadn't been together long enough for me to tell. I didn't even think I loved him this early in the relationship, a relationship which we kept secret from everyone besides ourselves.
On a lazy Friday afternoon, I lay on my couch with a bowl of ice cream binge watching Law and Order. There were a thousand, well, more like five, things I needed to do around the house but I couldn't be motivated to do them. I put down the bowl, picking up a small self made taser I'd been working on lately. Steve's speech about possible war reminded me that I needed to be prepared to fight, even if I hated that idea. Besides that, I just wanted to make a taser so I could avoid getting abducted or raped in the slums where I lived.
A knock sounded on the door and I perked up, wondering if it was Steve surprising me. He'd never done that before, always wanting to do the polite thing and call first. I rubbed at a stain on my tank top, shrugged, and opened the door.
Courtney stood there, an almost fake smile plastered on her face and a box of donuts in her hand. I stared at her, wondering what the heck was going on. I hadn't talked to her very much over the past month, so I didn't understand why she still pursued me. Didn't she have other friends?
"Uh…hey Courtney! What are you doing here?"
"I just wanted to hang out with my best friend. Can I come in? I brought donuts." I let her in, but not without letting down my guard. There was something going on here and it seemed suspicious. Back when we were friends, she'd always do nice things before she went to do something without me or did something that she knew would hurt me.
She plopped down on the couch beside me, holding her donut and handing me one. We watched the show for hours, chatting on and off, until at about four she leapt from the couch.
"Time for us to get ready!" She said cheerfully.
"For what?"
"We're going to a party."
No one told me about that. "We are?"
"Yes. You're been such a hermit since you got back; you need to come out and party with us college kids."
The side of me that was inclined to be lazy for the rest of the day protested, but I couldn't ignore my curiosity and desire to find out what she was hiding. The only way to find out would be to play along. "What kind of party?"
She shrugged. "I don't know. We'll find one. "
She led me to my closet, picking out one of my smaller dresses, one covered in sequins (why the heck did I buy that?) for her and a bodycon navy dress for myself. We did each other's makeup, both with dark smoky eyes and vibrant lips, and fixed our hair before we choked down some ramen and hopped in her car to go.
On the way, I tried to pry the reason she was being nice out of her, but she just evasively told me she just was glad we were friends. A knot of dread formed in my stomach, but I pushed it away, wanting to enjoy the evening. I hadn't been to a party, a real one, since high school.
We arrived at the doorstep of some student at UCLA's house and entered, finding ourselves among bunches of drunk college students dressed up and partying hard. We definitely didn't stick out, and I was glad since it meant no one stared at me.
Time passed and I danced, drunk, laughed, and generally partied. I hadn't known anyone there except Courtney but people were so drunk that I easily made friends. I myself because more and more drunk by the hour, to the point where the world started to spin and everything was hilarious.
"Hey guys, wanna go upstairs nd get away from the noise?" I stuttered to my new friends, pointing up the stairs. There were probably already twenty couples having sex inhabiting the floor, but I didn't care. I just wanted a break.
They all nodded and some followed me up, all of us laughing like five year olds. At the top of the stairs, I bumped into a guy wearing black, with a somewhat creepy look on his face. He grabbed my arm and flipped it over, glancing at my arms, probably noticing the scars from where I'd used to inject heroin. After a stint in rehab and a lot of self-determination, I'd finally overcome that addiction.
I shifted away. "Get away from me." I slurred.
"Hey I've got the thing for you, girl." He said. "Come on."
My drunk mind was curious, so I followed him, despite how stupid that was. For all I knew, he was a murderer or rapist, but just the same I followed him to a bathroom in the corner of the second floor. I surveyed the room, where his goods, all the drugs and needles and pills, were kept, and my heart starting beating like crazy. Somewhere in the back of my mind, a voice was screaming to run, but my reflexes were too dampened for that.
He offered a price, a good one as I knew from experience. I hated myself for it later, but I started considering it. Would it really be so bad? I asked myself. It would; I would probably relapse and get addicted again. Yet, in the moment it sounded so good. I remembered how go it had felt when I'd been on the drug years ago, and suddenly I craved it. Ripping my wallet from my bag, I forked over the cash and reached out for my prize. Then it hit me. How could I be giving in so easily? I was supposed to be strong, have overcome this temptation and be immune. Horrified by myself, I ran from the room, down the stairs, and out the door.
The house was near the city itself, so I ran into the outskirts of it, tears streaming down my face. The cool air was sobering, giving me a clearer head to be ashamed of myself. I'd thrown away all the progress I thought I'd made in the span of a few seconds. If I'd done it once, this could happen again, and maybe next time I wouldn't get away. I might ruin my life all over again. And I hated myself for that. Was I really so out of control of my own body?
Collapsing beside a store, I cried my eyes out and sobbed to myself. Shame and fear pierced my heart like knifes, stealing my breath. Somehow, I eventually cried myself out and fell into an alcohol speeded sleep.
I woke up around four am, according to my Iphone clock, with a pounding headache and a sick stomach. After I ran to a nearby trashcan and threw up in it, I shakily returned to my spot, trying to figure out what to do now. I was emotionally screwed up and disoriented, so I needed to go somewhere where I could safely sleep and think it out. A random store in the slums of LA was not that place.
I checked my phone for texts and found six from Courtney. "Where are you?" She asked at eleven. The next four texts were along the same lines. Then, at one am, she asked, "Are you with a guy? ;) I'll stop bugging you then. I have to go home but you enjoy yourself. See you later." So, I thought to myself, now I can't count on her for a ride. Likely, she was deep asleep and wouldn't be inclined to pick me up.
I considered calling a taxi, but just didn't feel up to it. I didn't want them to think this was a walk of shame sort of thing, and I probably looked like it. I replayed the events of the night before and tears clouded my eyes again. I hated being so weak, but I couldn't manage to pull myself together. I needed some support or comfort, someone to tell me it was okay. Only one name popped into my mind, and I clicked on his contact, finger hovering over 'call'. I didn't want to wake him, but this was urgent. I pressed the button, and the phone started ringing. I pressed it to my ear, fearing he wouldn't pick up.
On the fourth ring, he finally picked up. "Nika?" He said, his voice sleepy.
"Hey Steve. I-I need you to come pick me up. Please."
My voice was thick with tears, and I had a feeling he could tell from how his voice suddenly turned urgent. "Why? What happened? Are you ok?"
"I'm f-fine. Please just come. I'll explain then-n." A pounding headache along with tears streaming down my face made it rather difficult to talk.
"I'll try to be there as soon as I can, but I'll have to get out without the others noticing. Where are you?"
I looked at the road signs near a nearby intersection. "On the corner of Katherine Street and Jamaica Street in front of-" I looked to the sign above me. "Jane's Barber Shop."
"Uh…how can I find that? I don't know where any maps are."
"Just plug it into your phone."
"I can do that? How?"
For what felt like the first time in years, I cracked a smile. I gave him a step by step explanation and he promised to be there as soon as possible before hanging up. I sniffled, used a tissue from my purse, and sat back down beside the store.
I waited maybe twenty minutes before a car pulled up in front of the store and I saw Steve in the driver's seat. I hopped up and jumped in the passenger seat, tired by even that small moment. Seeing Steve was almost too much, and I scrunched up my eyes to keep from crying again.
He didn't press me for information, which I appreciated, and instead just drove me home in silence. We parked in front of my apartment complex, still in silence. He walked me up and then I just couldn't take it anymore; I flung myself into his arms. "Oh my god Steve." I said, fresh tears rolling down my face. "I almost ruined my life. I can't believe I almost gave in. I'm so dumb. So weak. Oh my god."
"Shh" He calmed, stroking my hair.
We stayed like that for a couple minutes, before I dragged him inside and told him what happened in choked up bursts. I'd never told him about my addiction before, worried he he'd judge me since he himself probably never would let himself be tempted, but now I didn't care. And to my relief, he didn't seem to judge me for a second, just listened.
"Thanks." I said when I finally got everything out and we were silent.
He furrowed his brow. "For what?"
"For listening and not judging me."
"Why would you think I'd judge you for this?" A hint of hurt was present in his voice.
"Because…You're so perfect."
He laughed without real humor. "I'm far from perfect, Nika. And, besides, I would never think poorly of you for something like this. Really I would never think poorly of anyone, especially if they tried so hard to stop like you have."
He was right, and I should've trusted him with my secret in the first place. I really should trust him with all my secrets, if I wanted our relationship or our friendship to last. There was nothing more damaging to two people than a secret.
"Steve…" I started, gathering up the courage to tell him about my father. Now seemed like the perfect time, since I already was confessing things and I had his attention. Then, before I could form the words, his phone rang. I cursed inwardly.
"Sorry." He said. "I have to pick this up."
"I understand."
He picked up the phone and went into the other room while I made some coffee. Five minutes later, he returned, his expression serious. "I have to go. There's a new lead for the hideout that I need to follow up on this afternoon. Will you be okay?"
I nodded, really meaning it. "I think so. Thanks for listening. I'm sorry for waking you up."
"You're more important to me than a good night's sleep." He kissed me fleetingly and hurried out the door, already in mission mode. I sipped my coffee quietly, wondering how the other missions of the avengers were going. Steve told me all about his missions to find the terrorists' California hideout and answered any questions I had, but I didn't know specifics about the others. I knew Tony Stark had just returned from trying to add defenses to a base (which ended up failing), Black Widow was tracing some men who were suspected of being in league with the terrorists, Thor was off the planet but doing research in Asgaurd to find out what substance they had, and the other Avengers were helping one of these missions. Other than that, I was clueless and I ached for the information I'd only have if I were an Avenger, which I was neither cut out for nor wanted to be.
Now that I'd been able to talk everything out, I felt calmer, less on the verge of totally panicking. It was strange to me that in two months I could grow to depend on someone as much as I depended on Steve. He was the only person I had left, and without him I'd be lost again. That's why I tried not to think about what exactly he did on missions, knowing it probably was more dangerous than I handle.
I took a shower, washing away the smeared makeup and tearstains on my face. My headache slowly alleviated and I began to feel happy again, humming as I blow dried my hair. Life didn't seem quite as bad as it had hours ago.
For the rest of the afternoon, I went on a walk down the trail where Steve and I met. The trail was surprisingly full for a Friday afternoon, but I ignored the other runners. I was content to be alone with my footsteps and my music. I returned home and grabbed some leftovers from my fridge before flipping on my TV. Courtney stood in the center of the screen, a stage smile plastered on her face. My eyes widened: why didn't she tell me she was going to get her own segment on the news?
"Good evening ladies and gentlemen." She said, sounding nervous. "My name is Courtney Kasekbo and tonight I'm here in the studio with our six o'clock segment: celebrity news," The dumbest the segment in my opinion, "You all know Tony Stark from his inventions and his Iron Man suit, as well as his many achievements with the other Avengers." She went on to list some of those achievements for viewers who must've spent the past five years living under a rock. "And you all probably don't know a girl named Nika Marianna." My breath caught in my throat. Why the hell was she talking about me? "She graduated in the class of '14 as Valedictorian. Throughout her high school career, her teachers called her 'gifted', 'naturally brilliant' and 'a genius'. Her friends saw her differently, because outside of school she loved to party and often was seen drinking a good deal. About this point, I bet you're wondering why you care about Nika Marianna and what she has to do with Tony Stark." I wasn't sure if my heart was still beating. I knew exactly what she was about to tell the world, and though I didn't know how she knew, her telling this information could change my life for better or for worse. "Well, folks, I'm here tonight to tell you just that. Medical, behavioral, and physical evidence all prove that miss Nika Marianna is…" She paused for effect, and in that moment I wanted to kill her more than I'd ever wanted to kill anyone. "…Anthony Stark's daughter." There it was. She'd said it. Now the entire world could know. Courtney went on to talk about the research she'd done and how she knew this was true, but I tuned out.
"Traitor!" I screamed, throwing my remote at the TV. Her kindness to me the day before all made sense now. I'd told her as a child that who my father was was a secret and I promised my mother it would stay that way. I also said that I didn't want anyone to know, because it would ruin my life. What kind of a friend would do this to me and still expect to be my friend?
I didn't know what to do, what to feel. Suddenly, Steve's face flashed into my mind and I knew what I had to do. I had no idea if he'd already seen the news or not, but I needed to clear the air about this between us before it was too late.
"I was going to tell you, I swear, but you left before I could." I texted him, assuming he already knew.
"Tell me what?"
I sucked in a breath. So he didn't know…and now I had to tell him, no matter how I feared the outcome. "Tony Stark is my father."
"What? Are you serious?"
"Dead serious. Just watch the news."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
I wasn't sure if that was an accusation, but it felt that way. "I couldn't. My mother didn't want anyone to know and… I thought it'd change the way you think of me. Does it?"
"Of course not." It shouldn't have been, I should've already known that, but that text was a huge relief.
"So you aren't mad?"
"Why should I be? If your mother didn't want it known, then it wasn't your secret to tell."
He didn't know how much that meant to me, but I did. I smiled at my phone and texted him back, changing the subject and asking about his day and his work. He told me the lead had been wrong again, but they'd busted some other guys up to illegal shit. I'd expected something to feel different now, but it was just the same as always. I'd never been more relieved in my life.
The day had been full of emotionally taxing problems, so I crashed in bed even though it was only eight. For a while, I just scrolled on my phone, but eventually I drifted off, sleeping more heavily than in a while.