There was some sort of rattling in the kitchen. He picked up his shield - which he had started keeping at his apartment after his first mission. Shifting into defensive mode, he crept around the corner only to immediately let the shield drop at the sight of Dawson rummaging through his cabinets. He let out a deep sigh, getting Dawson's attention and the SHIELD agent whirled around, giving him an easy smile.
"Hey, dude." he greeted Steve, "You really gotta start locking your door." he said as if it was Steve's fault that he was in his apartment. Steve placed his shield against the wall and stepped over to him. Dawson held his hand out for their handshake which Steve responded to, getting a proud grin from the SHIELD agent.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, relieved that it wasn't a threat but confused as to why Dawson was in his apartment.
"Uh, didn't you get Q's text?" Dawson asked back, brows furrowing. He didn't respond; he hadn't gotten her text. Or maybe he had. He hadn't checked his phone since he woke up.
He had finished his run to find Natasha waiting for him at the curb, citing something about how she was taking him to training. He figured he would meet Q there, but she hadn't shown up - which worried him until Natasha landed a hard gut punch to get him to focus. Then once he got back to his apartment, he showered and was just about to check his phone when he heard the front door open. He had automatically assumed it was Q, not Dawson, until he heard a man's voice let out a frustrated curse. Thus, the reason why he crept out of his bedroom in defensive mode.
"She had some sort of emergency. Told me to keep an eye on you for today." Dawson's explanation shook him out of his thoughts. Steve's brows furrowed as he watched him walk to the couch, flopping onto it with his hand digging into the box of Lucky Charms he kept in the cabinets for Q.
"An emergency?" Steve asked, hands on his hips, "Is she okay?"
"Yeah, it wasn't anything crucial. She's not dying or anything." he answered through a mouthful of cereal. Steve took in a breath and shook his head. He had a feeling he knew what it was about.
"I knew she was upset about Rumlow." he muttered under his breath, thinking Dawson couldn't hear him. He was wrong.
"What?" Dawson picked his head up from where he was resting on the couch so he could look over at Steve, "Woah, woah, woah-" he rolled himself off the couch, landing with a thump before quickly jumping to his feet, his hair flying out behind him, "Did you just say Rumlow? What happened with Rumlow?" he asked, hands up and out in front of him as he walked over to Steve. His brow furrowed; surely Dawson knew about Rumlow and Q's relationship. The two were friends.
"They broke up." he said as if Dawson should know such a thing - which he thought he did. But instead of reacting as Steve thought he would, Dawson went the complete opposite. His brow furrowed, like he was confused,
"Broke up? What do you mean: broke up?" he asked, not giving Steve time to respond as he answered his own question, "Like they were together? Were they together? No...Q would've told me...unless…" Steve watched as he looked away, staring at a spot in the ground as he mentally worked his way to the right answer he was looking for. Then he let out a sharp gasp, "They were fucking." Steve's skin started to heat up at the implication of the word, but before he could say anything else, Dawson stepped closer to him, "Oh my God, they were doing it in secret. Except you knew!" he pointed at him, "Fuck, you knew!" he laughed at him as if that was the best news he had heard all day, "Oh, Jesus." he ran his hand over his scruff, the laughter suddenly fading as he became serious.
"Did you not?" Steve asked, eyebrows raising as he sort of came to the conclusion that Dawson may have not known about Q and Rumlow.
"No!" Dawson laughed out almost incredulously, "Holy shit…" he trailed off, shaking his head, "Goddamnit. You know, we've been friends for almost ten years and there's still so much I don't know about her." Steve thought that was odd - she and Dawson came across as such close friends, but Dawson didn't even know everything about her. It seemed nobody really knew her, except herself.
"Wait, so that's not why she's not here?" Steve held up his hand to stop Dawson from saying anything else. Dawson glanced at him then shook his head,
"No, man, no, she had to go home last night. Family stuff, you know?" he asked, keeping the details light. Steve paused, noting how Dawson referenced her family. In the past three months, there had been no mention of her family. Steve was beginning to think she didn't have one - not in a humorous way, but like something bad had happened to them which was why she never talked about them. So he never asked. But clearly, they existed and she just chose not to tell him about them.
Steve nodded, glancing away from Dawson then back, a part of him suddenly remembering that she very specifically told him not to tell anyone about her and Rumlow or their nonbreakup break up. But in the moment, he thought that Dawson knew; again, why wouldn't he? Still, he had to make sure Dawson knew not to say anything that would make Q think he knew about her and Rumlow.
"Could you not mention that I told you about Rumlow to Q?" Steve found himself asking. Dawson's brow furrowed for a moment before he nodded, reaching out to pat Steve's shoulder as he walked by,
"Of course, man, yeah. Secret's safe with me." Steve relaxed a bit at his reassurance and turned to see where he was headed to. There was a duffel bag on the table that Steve had previously missed while dealing with Dawson's impromptu appearance but Dawson went over to it, opening it up as he did, "So, today I decided to introduce you to some things that you've missed out on that Q would probably never show you cause she's...very lame." he finished with a laugh. Steve had to disagree; he didn't think Q was lame.
He watched as Dawson pulled out a heavy looking box with buttons across the front and two matching controllers with bright buttons on either side. There were a lot of wires that he then plugged into the back of the television, setting up whatever he had brought.
"Captain...I'd like to introduce you to the magical world of video games." he turned on the tv and pressed the power button on the box he had plugged into the tv. Steve watched as the screen displayed whatever was inside the box. It looked like the menu that was on some of the DVDs Q had shown him, but different.
Going over to the couch, he settled down in the middle and picked up one of the controllers that Dawson had left on the coffee table. His eyes drifted over it and he noticed they were marked with different letters and there were two joysticks like from the arcade games along with four more buttons on the back.
Once Dawson set up the game, he sat down next to Steve and told him to just watch before he tried so he could see what to do. The menu screen went away and was replaced by an abandoned town of sorts. He could hear the sounds of other men who he couldn't see - only being able to see what was directly in front of the person Dawson was using. Then, all of a sudden, there was the loud, quick noise of a gun being shot over and over. Steve flinched at the sound, not realizing that whatever game Dawson was playing involved guns.
Glancing over at Dawson, he saw that he wasn't even fazed. Instead, there was a huge grin on his face as he pressed a few buttons, making the person move forward and shoot his own gun - the sound of the gun firing filling the room. Steve felt his grip on the controller tighten as his jaw clenched. He tried to block out the sounds of the different guns and explosions that mixed with Dawson's laughter. It wasn't real - it was just a game. His heart started to pound against his chest and he could feel his body start to heat up, involuntarily flinching every so often at the sound of bullets hitting someone in the game. They weren't real people - they were cartoons and the bullets weren't real. It was just a game.
"Hey, dude, are you okay?" Dawson suddenly asked. Steve realized that the game had gone quiet. There were no sounds involving guns or explosions or screaming. He slowly opened his eyes, only then realizing that he shut them, and was met with Dawson's concerned look.
"Yeah, yeah." he cleared his throat and looked down at his controller. Unclenching his hands from it, there were clear dents in the shape of his fingers. He took in a deep breath, trying to calm himself down, blinking a bit as his vision cleared up.
"Is it the - is it the guns?" Dawson asked, still sounding concerned as he looked from the screen to him, "Fuck, it totally is. Shit, man, I didn't even think." he got up from the couch and went over to the box that held the game, "I should've. I mean PTSD, you fought in goddamn World War II, wow that was a terrible - I, shit." he stopped his rambling as he took out the game, the screen going to some sort of home menu screen.
Steve looked down to where Dawson was crouched in front of the box, rubbing his hand over his scruff and looking disappointed in himself. Q's voice echoed in the back of Steve's head - telling him that Dawson was just trying to impress him because he wanted to be friends. The video games had been his way to try to not only impress Steve but also try to bond with him.
Video games had to be what most guy friends did in this time. He wasn't used to it. Mostly cause he didn't have any guy friends in this time - hell, he was lucky enough to call Q a friend. What he and Bucky used to do included going to the movies or to the dance clubs. There were the big city wide events like the World's Fair or the World Exposition of Tomorrow fair. Other than that, they would walk around the city or hang out at each other's apartments with their families. But, as he relearned almost every day, times changed.
"It's alright." Steve spoke up, not wanting Dawson to feel bad for his mistake.
"Nah, man, it's my fault. Sometimes I don't think these things through all the way, you know?" he asked back, rummaging through his duffel for something else, "I forget that you're...you know...you." he looked over at Steve, giving him a half smile and nod. Steve blinked at him; no one ever seemed to forget that he was Captain America, lest tell him that they forgot. It was an odd feeling to be around someone who knew he was Captain America, but treated him as Steve Rogers. An odd feeling, but a good feeling.
"Okay, now first player shooter games are my favorite, but -" Dawson cut himself off at Steve's confused look, "The game I was just playing." he explained, the tone he most often used with Steve coming back - the one where he acted like Steve should know exactly what he was talking about. He was resettling after his mistake. He shook his head, hair flopping around as he settled back on the couch, "But since you're still dealing with some shit, we're gonna start off with something a little chiller." Every time Steve thought he understood the new lingo that came about, Dawson would remind him that he didn't. Using words like dope and chill. And the context clues never helped, but Q would try to explain them to him when they were going through his notebook.
Dawson taught him how to use the controller to move his character on the screen - or rather his car. It was some sort of racing game. And it took him a second to get the hang of it; it took a lot more hand-eye coordination than he expected. Plus, he kept forgetting that he was on the bottom screen and found himself looking down at the controller more than the screen itself. It was a lot more than the carnival games or games he and Bucky would play - none of them involved a screen anyhow.
Still, once he got the hang of it, he managed to win a race or two. He had a thought that Dawson was just being nice and letting him win, but his reactions proved him different. Steve found himself relaxing as he figured out the tricks of the game and soon he was joining in with Dawson's laughter and yelling at the screen when the car wasn't responding to what he wanted it to do. Dawson played with his whole body, leaning over when the car turned, or jumping to his feet when he was getting close to the finish line. Steve found himself copying him, leaning forward and using his foot like he was pressing on an imaginary gas pedal.
The two of them played Dawson's video games for a good amount of the day - staying away from any that involved guns or violence. Sure, he had watched movies with guns and violence in them (not in this time, but previously), but actually being the one to make the gun shoot or throw the grenade felt more realistic. It took him back to his World War II days, reminded him of all the violence he did, the compromises he and his team made that didn't make him feel so good. It was how he created his moral compass. Figuring out to do based on what would help the betterment of others regardless of the rules.
He lightly explained this to Dawson when he was rummaging through the duffel for another game. It got his attention and he nodded to himself as he looked back at the duffel, pulling a DVD out instead of another video game disc,
"Well, in that case," he loaded the DVD into the player, switching the display screens, "I think it's time to introduce you to some real movies. Not those cheesy rom-coms Q's been showing you." he scoffed out with a shake of his head.
Again, Steve had to disagree with Dawson. Sure, Q had shown him a lot of romantic comedies, but she had mixed in a few classic movies from time periods he missed while under the ice. There were some dramatic movies, a few historical ones and a couple cartoon movies. They never watched that one movie Dawson suggested but overall, it was a good mix of genres.
"What are we watching?" he asked as Dawson settled down on the opposite end of the couch.
"Only the best action movie of all time. First of five, but we don't talk about the fifth one." he glanced over to Steve with a serious look and Steve nodded in response, not really understanding but figuring it was the right answer. "It's got everything: action, drama, comedy - you know, technically it's a Christmas movie." he added on, "It's called Die Hard and it's the only movie that matters." he said matter-of-factly.
The title sounded pretty straight forward. People were going to die...hard. Dawson didn't do a great job explaining what it was about so Steve actually had to pay attention. Usually when he watched movies with Q, they were mild enough where he could just relax and watch it. He would jot things down in his notebook, not worried about missing anything important in the movie. But with Die Hard, he found himself shifting forward onto the edge of the couch; the action going on was intense.
While they watched it, he could hear Dawson saying some of the lines at the same time or acting out what was happening from his position on the couch - sound effects included. He had obviously seen this movie enough times to be able to quote it word for word. During certain scenes, he would reach over to smack Steve to make sure he was paying attention - watching his reaction the whole time. It was kind of hilarious and certainly just as entertaining as the movie itself.
At the end of the movie, Dawson looked at him expectantly, waiting for Steve's thoughts. He tilted his head to the side and raised his hand up, letting out a small laugh,
"Yeah, that was pretty good." he admitted. It was. He liked it. It was much different than the movies he watched with Q. And there was a lot more violence than he expected but it didn't feel as realistic as the video game Dawson had wanted him to play.
Dawson let out a relieved noise, falling back against the couch and letting his hands fall on his chest. He laughed a little and looked over to Steve, sitting back up and shuffling his hands through his hair,
"I don't know what I would've done if you hadn't liked it." he shook his head, "I don't think we would've been able to be friends, man." he let out a little laugh.
"Well, it's a good thing I liked it then, huh?" Steve responded with a slight smile at Dawson. He nodded, pleased with himself before patting his legs and getting up from the couch to go switch out the DVDs.
The rest of the day was alternated between watching movies and playing video games. They ordered pizza for their meals and Dawson gave him something called an energy drink that was way too sugary for him and made his heart feel like it was going to burst out of his chest. There were no talks or notepads or graphs - just two guys hanging out for the day. It felt like what a friendship should actually be.
It made him begin to question his friendship with Q. He thought he was friends with her. He called her Q, which was only what friends did. But hanging out with Dawson...made him feel like her and him weren't really friends at all. His friendship with Dawson was different than what he had with Q. With Dawson, it was like he was a normal guy, not some all American hero. He liked just being able to hang out with someone and not have to worry about keeping up appearances. But with Q, it felt more like a professional duty that just accidentally turned into a friendship. And he hated to admit it, but with Q, it felt like she was hiding something from him.
"Hey," Steve paused the game they were playing, getting Dawson's attention, "You said you've known Q for almost ten years, right?" he asked as Dawson reached for the bowl of popcorn, dumping a handful of it into his mouth,
"Uh, yeah, why?" he asked out of the side of his mouth. Steve shrugged,
"Just making sure I heard you right. You guys seem close." he treaded lightly, knowing what his end goal was but not wanting Dawson to catch on too early. He wanted to see if he could pull anything from Dawson to make his worry about Q hiding something from him go away.
"Yeah, man, I mean, she's probably my best friend." he nodded, "I told you they made us join at the same time, right?" he asked, glancing over at Steve. He shook his head - even though he did know that from Q, but he wanted to see what Dawson had to say about it. At his response, Dawson raised his eyebrows and leaned forward a bit, "Really? Well, man, let me tell you, the Q you know today is not the Q I knew." Dawson laughed as if there were some inside joke Steve wasn't in on.
"What do you mean?" Steve asked curiously, wanting to know more. She kept herself so closed off to him that he barely knew how old she was (he thought she had to be at least 28). But it seemed like Dawson was his in to finding out more about her.
"You know how she was taken out of jail and forced into the recruitment program at SHIELD, yeah?" he asked back. Steve struggled to contain his surprised reaction. He did not know about that. He couldn't even picture her in jail - if he was being honest, she just thought she appeared in the world, pantsuit and all. She just didn't fit the type who went to jail - what with the pantsuits and the professionalism. But still, he nodded, knowing that this was his way to gathering a little more information about his assigned SHIELD analyst - God knew when she was going to tell him.
"Right, well, obviously, she was not happy about it." Dawson continued, "I mean, first off she got caught. Then she was forced into working for a secret division of the government - the same government that threw her in jail in the first place." he laughed a little and shook his head, "Ironic, I know. And she was really against the whole recruitment thing at first - finding every opportunity to cause trouble. She would always try to escape where they put us...I think she got up to five or six escape attempts." he laughed again as if remembering a certain time.
"So what changed?" Steve asked, wondering what changed to turn her into the woman he was used to.
"Fury got to her." he answered simply, "Had some serious talk with her about why she was recruited. Started being her mentor. That's why they're so close." he added with a shrug, "And why she always wants to make sure she's impressing him." he reached for his energy drink, unpausing the game and getting back to the race they were on. Steve didn't pay attention, instead thinking about what Dawson had told him.
Seemed like he still had a lot to learn about Q.
The door slammed shut with a bang, getting Steve's attention from where he sat at the dining room table. A day had passed since he had hung out with Dawson and he was using his free evening to get ready for the SHIELD mission that was coming up. It was late, later than he had stayed up before. He had been going over intel that Kristen from Statistics had pulled for him. But he had been interrupted by Q storming into his apartment.
He hadn't seen her in the past two days; he finally checked his phone after Dawson had left him that night. She had texted him that she would be out of town for the following two days and Dawson would be checking in on him during the first, but he should use the next day to get ready for his mission. Which he was - until she so rudely interrupted him.
She wasn't wearing her normal skirt and shirt combo or even a pantsuit. Instead she was in a pair of ripped jeans and a old baseball tee. It was kind of startling; he had never seen her in jeans before, let alone ripped ones. She must've came straight from the train station, she looked incredibly normal. But her eyes were narrowed and her face was set. He immediately registered that as anger...but why was she angry? Was it directed at him? Or did someone cut her off in traffic again?
"How's your family-?" he started only for her to cut him off,
"Fuck my family! You told him!?" she yelled out, stomping over to him, finger pointed at him. He got up out of his chair, brows furrowing; he didn't know what she meant, "You told Dawson about Rumlow." she stated, explaining her previous accusation. His heart dropped to his stomach. Dawson had told her - even though he had specifically asked him not to.
"I told him not to tell you I did." he mumbled out, saying the first thing that came to mind, not even trying to defend himself.
"Yeah! Well, I told you not to tell anyone either, Cap!" she gave him an incredulous look, "Fuck, why would you do that!?" she asked, shaking her hands at him. He held his tongue on calling out her cursing; now was not the time.
"I thought he knew." he tried to explain himself, telling her the truth. She let out a frustrated groan, hands shoving through her hair.
"He didn't! Nobody knew, Cap! Except for you!" she cried out. She was extremely upset, eyes actually watering with tears - he had never seen her in this state before. She wasn't just mad, she was disappointed. In herself or in him, he wasn't sure. "I thought we were friends." she said seriously, giving him a look of betrayal as her arms crossed over her chest.
"Are we?" he asked feeling something snap inside of him, "Cause friends don't keep things from each other! It's not fair that you expect everything from me but don't give anything in return." he paused before continuing, "And for the record, you shouldn't be mad at just me." he said, not wanting all of the blame to be on him. He only told Dawson about Rumlow because he thought that was the reason for her emergency, not that it was something family related, then it snowballed into finding out more about her than he could've ever imagined, "You should be mad at Dawson too."
"Yeah! I am!" she yelled back, voice raising, eyes widening, "He shouldn't have told you about any of that - my family, my past - you didn't need to know about that!"
"Why not?" he asked back, a little surprised by her answer. "You were in jail, Q! And you didn't think that I should know that?"
"No!" she raised her shoulders up, "I was a stupid, fucking teenager and it's not who I am anymore!" she let out a huff, glaring at him but he could see that her facade was falling just a bit. Behind the glare, she looked almost...scared. He had never seen that before - he must've struck a nerve, "You didn't need to know, alright?" her voice was at a normal volume, but still sounded a little strained. She paused before adding, "And my family stuff wasn't something you needed to be worried about either." she said seriously. He let out a noise of disbelief, getting sort of frustrated with her,
"Wow, you just pick and choose who knows what about you, don't you, Q?" he asked, looking back at her, "No one knows the whole story."
"No one needs to!" she raised her voice again, lifting her shoulders up to her chin.
"Why? Because it's easier for you to protect yourself?" he bit out, eyebrows raising. It sounded familiar; it was exactly what he did before he met her. Held everyone at arm's length and refused to let anyone in. If he had a job, he'd focus on the job. No one needed to know about him or his past.
"Yes!" she answered immediately, getting another laugh of disbelief from him, "And you have no room to lecture me about this, Cap." she brandished a finger at him.
"Ironic, isn't it?" he asked, tilting his head at her, "You're the one trying to get me to open up about my life and my past and yet, I don't even know what your favorite color is!" he paused for a moment, "God, don't you trust anyone?" he asked her seriously, not meaning for it to come out, but it had. She met his eye, arms crossing over her chest again,
"I thought I could trust you." she admitted. He felt his heart sink even deeper into his gut. He always thought she trusted him; who wouldn't? Everyone trusted him. He was Captain America for gosh's sake. But she hadn't trusted him - or rather, she did for a moment, but he managed to erase that in about a minute.
Then, she took in a deep breath and pulled herself together - fixing him with that warm, tight smile he hated so much, "It's late. I should go." she said curtly, all signs of any emotion gone. He swallowed tightly, not wanting her to leave, but not knowing how to make her stay so they could resolve their argument. Choice words were exchanged out of frustration and now they had to deal with it.
She turned away from him, heading for the door and slamming it just as hard as she did when she entered. He stood there for a moment before realizing he should probably go after her. He wanted to explain himself, tell her he was sorry - it wasn't her fault. He shouldn't have said anything to Dawson or tried to pull anything out of him regarding her past.
But when he stepped out into the hallway, there was no sign of her. He put his hands on his hips, letting out a defeated sigh. Then, the door next to him opened and Kate poked her head out of the space, looking concerned.
"Is everything okay?" she asked, leaning her head on the edge of the door. He paused, waiting for his mind to slow down so he could give her a proper answer, but she continued before he could, "I heard yelling and the door slamming - is everything okay?" she repeated her question. He forced himself to nod, letting out another sigh,
"Yeah, yeah, I just uh...got into an argument with a friend." he plainly put it, not wanting to get into the details. Kate's expression turned into a sympathetic one.
"Do you want to talk about it?" she offered. He looked at her and slightly shook his head; he already had someone he talked about these things to and she had just went storming out of his apartment.
"No, no, but thank you for offering." he politely declined. She gave him a small smile,
"Alright, if you need to talk, I'm here." she paused, "And if you need something stronger, I'm also here. With whiskey." she gave him a slight grin, trying to break the tension. He forced a laugh out of his chest and a smile on his face.
"Thank you, Kate." he nodded at her and she gave him another smile before ducking back into her apartment.
Shuffling back into his apartment, he walked over to the kitchen window. He figured he might have already missed Q walking away, but he wanted to see. When he glanced out the window, he saw that she was still outside of the building, standing under the street lamps and turning in a slow circle like she was trying to calm herself down. He watched her for a moment until she faced his window and looked up, catching him in the act.
When they made eye contact, she stopped in her tracks. He knew he should move but he felt frozen in place. He had never been caught watching her walk away and it wasn't like he did it often. Just from time to time. Still, she didn't know that. She raised her arms up at him in an exasperated manner - the angry look appearing on her face once more before she spun on her toe and stomped up the block toward her apartment.
Swiping her hand against her face, Q pushed back the flyaway hairs that were blocking her vision as she stomped away from his apartment. God, she was so angry at him. She should've never told him about Rumlow or the non-breakup break up.
She shouldn't have trusted Cap with something so personal. She had trusted him on a professional level: to show up for his meetings and appointments, tell her the truth and not keep things from her. But it wasn't until she talked to him about Rumlow that she thought she would be able to trust him with more personal details about her life. Apparently, she thought wrong. And thanks to Dawson, he now knew much more than she ever wanted him to.
A long time ago, she decided that she was going to let the past stay in the past. No one would know about what she kind of trouble got into or what she not so great things she did. The only reason Dawson had any clue at all was because he was there at the beginning of the SHIELD recruitment, watching as she went through all the stages before finally settling on acceptance. No one else was supposed to know. Especially not Cap.
Being too angry to walk, she sat down on the curb in front of the deli with a huff. Her breath was coming in short, fast paces from the combination of the exercise and her emotions. She rested her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands, wanting nothing more than to burst out into frustrated tears. She took in a couple deep breaths, moving her head to the side, her hands pushing her hair back away from her face as she looked down the street, trying to get her emotions in check.
The chime on the deli door got her attention, but not enough to make her look over her shoulder. Whoever the customer was would just walk by her. But instead of walking by her, whoever walked out of the deli settled down on the curb next to her with an exaggerated groan.
"Thought that was you." she looked over to see Albert shifting on the concrete as he tried to get comfortable. His apron was stained with a day's worked and he smelled of deli meats and pickles but she didn't mind, "Would recognize that head of hair anywhere." he greeted her and she moved so that she was pressing down her waves with her hands, elbows planted on her thighs, giving him a small smile "Now, why are you sitting out here, alone, in the dark?" he got straight to the point, giving her a pointed look. His white hair shone under the streetlights and she sighed, looking out across the street.
"Oh, you know just hanging out. People watching." she made up an excuse with a shrug, making a face as she did.
"There's no people." he pointed out.
"I didn't say I was good at it, Al." she glanced to him and he gave her a knowing smile.
"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" the older gentleman asked with a slight nudge of his elbow into her side, "You don't just sit on the curb cause it's comfortable." she laughed a little and raised her eyebrows at him,
"It's actually very comfortable. You just have an old butt." she volleyed back, deflecting the question. Albert chuckled and shook his head,
"You're stubborn, you know that?" he shook his finger at her, "Which can be a good thing, but it can be a bad thing too." he gave her a serious look, "Could make ya push people away without even realizing it." Her brows furrowed at that, not understanding what he meant. He noticed, taking in a breath and shaking his head a little, "Here I am, trying to help you work through whatever it is you're going through that's makin you sit on my curb like an upset toddler, and you're over here trying to crack jokes." he gestured to her with a slight smile, "And they're terrible, really." she rolled her eyes at him.
"Well, then I guess I'll just get off your curb then." she pushed her hands against her thighs, going to get up, but Albert stopped her,
"Hold on, hold on, missy." he pulled her back down with one hand, waving at her with his other, "You're not going anywhere until you tell me what's going on." he fixed her with a serious look. She looked down at her nails, picking at her nail bed for a moment before answering him,
"Have you ever thought you could trust someone so you told them something important and then they just completely betray you and tell someone who shouldn't have known?" she grumbled out, raising her eyebrows at the end of her question, feeling herself get mad again. "And then you just wanna -" she raised her hands up and curled her fingers over, making a noise as she pretended to choke someone.
"Did they do it on purpose?" Albert asked. Her eyes shifted over to him quickly before she looked back at her nails,
"Sure seems like it." she mumbled out.
"Sure, now it does, in the moment, but think back." he urged, "Is this person the type of person who usually betrays people?" She took in a breath and shook her head. Cap wasn't the type that was being described. And neither was Dawson - but she currently wasn't as mad at Dawson as she was at Cap,
"Alright, now listen here, little lady," Albert shifted closer to her and she pulled her gaze from her nails to his eyes, "I'm gonna give you some advice. Now, it's coming from an old Jewish man, so you know it's good, okay?" she nodded, a quick grin breaking out across her face before she became serious, matching Albert's serious expression. He let a moment pass before speaking again, "It takes two to do the trust tango." he said, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. There was a beat and then Q let out a small bout of laughter, pulling away from him and shaking her head.
"I trust you." she responded firmly, getting a laugh from Albert.
"To make your sandwiches." he added on, shaking his head slightly, "You've lived on this block for six - seven years and that's all I know about you." she groaned and shook her head, not believing that for a second, "Q, sweetheart, seriously...you can't be afraid to let people in. You're gonna get hurt. That's just a fact of life. You can't build a wall high enough or thick enough to stop it from happening. And then the problem with that wall is that you may have protected yourself from any outside threats, but you also locked yourself behind it. You've created your own prison." he explained. She held back her flinch at the word prison and nodded at him, rolling her lips in and looking down at her lap.
He was right. She had a mighty big wall surrounding herself. Her past. Keeping people from finding out anything that could be used against her in order to take away the life she had tried so hard to make for herself despite the things she had done. She knew she had been a little too professional with Cap, but...fuck, just how much damage had she done to their friendship by continuing to hide behind her wall. Even though she said they were friends, how much did she actually act like it?
"Now, are you mad because you told the person whatever it was or are you mad that the person knows?" Albert continued, shifting gears a little bit. She looked over at him, realization dawning rather quickly. She wasn't even mad. She was...scared. She was afraid that once Cap knew more about her past, he wouldn't want to be friends with her anymore. That he wouldn't like her anymore. Hell, he was the first real friend she had made within SHIELD who wasn't Dawson. She couldn't risk losing him.
Albert reached over to take her hand in his, getting her attention once more, "Here's what you need to do, okay? Create a window." he suggested, "Let someone look through it to see what's on the other side of that wall. And then maybe one day...a door." he raised his eyebrows up at her. She took in a deep breath, not realizing that she hadn't been breathing while he had been talking to her.
"Okay." she agreed, voice small.
She started to think back to her earlier conversation with Cap - remembering how when she mentioned they were friends, he shot her down. And he was right, they weren't actually friends. For so long she had tried so hard to become friends with him and when she finally felt they were there, he proved to her that they weren't. They didn't hang out and talk like friends did or do anything just for fun. It was all about the progress and not about the development.
Albert was right, it did take two to trust tango. She was already someone Cap trusted, but she needed to be able to trust him too. She needed to make a window. Let him see inside - he had trusted her enough to do that with her and his wall was even bigger and stronger than hers. She should be able to do the same for him.
"I have to go." she said suddenly, pulling her hand from Albert's, "But thank you, Al, seriously." she got to her feet, reaching down to help him up, "You won't be seeing me sitting on your curb any time soon, I promise." she gave him a small smile and he returned it.
"I'm glad I could help, sweetheart." he nodded at her, patting her cheek with his hand in a grandfatherly way, "I'll see you in the morning. Black coffee and a bran muffin, right?" he teased and she let out a groan, rolling her eyes at him.
"Goodnight, Al." she droned out before walking away from him and down the block toward Cap's apartment.
Knowing it was late and knowing that he liked to go to bed early, Q knocked on the door of his apartment instead of walking in like she usually did. She waited for a moment, glancing around herself as her stomach knotted up. She was nervous, but it was the right thing to do. She already knew so much about him - she could tell him a thing or two about herself.
The door opened and she looked back to see him standing in the doorward, already in his pajamas. She paused, realizing that he was probably in bed and she had just woken him up.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to wake you, Cap." she said, noticing his slightly confused look, "I know it's late. I can just...come back tomorrow. Talk to you tomorrow." she rambled slightly before shutting her mouth. She never got like this around him or at least hadn't in a long while.
"No, no it's okay." he answered with a slight shake of his head, "I'm glad you're here, come on in." he invited her into his apartment and she stepped past him, hearing him close the door behind him, "Listen, Q, I'm really sorry I told Dawson." he started as she turned around to look at him, "I honestly thought he knew." she held up her hands, stopping him from explaining himself any further,
"I know, I know. It's okay." she accepted his apology and also found that she forgave him too. Her talk with Albert made her realize that it wasn't him that she was mad at, but herself. She had tried to keep him from only know who she was presently, like she had with everyone else and it backfired on her. She had to answer to that, not him.
"I just came to say that I'm sorry." she continued, "You're right. I pick and choose what I tell to certain people. It's just...easier, I guess."
"Trust me, I know." he gave her a reassuring smile, "You're talking to the poster child for keeping people at arm's length."
"More like poster grandpa." she teased, tilting her head to the side and making him groan. She laughed a little and then shook her head, "What I'm trying to say is that I need to take my own advice. Deal with my past instead of just shoving it back there and trying to forget about it." He nodded at her, as small, understanding smile on his face,
"Listen, I get it if you need time, but you can't be my friend and shut me out completely." he pointed out seriously. She nodded quickly, agreeing with him,
"I do want to be friends with you. And I thought we were. But apparently, my definition is different than one from the 1940s." she gestured to him and he scoffed and rolled his eyes. A small, proud grin peeked out as she noticed his reaction, "No, I know and I'm going to try to be more open with you." she promised, "I'm not making any promises about how quick I'll let you in but…" she paused for a moment, "My favorite color is a soft yellow." she gave him a little grin. He rolled back on his heels, arms crossing over his chest as he considered her answer.
"A soft yellow…" he repeated slowly, looking off to the side, "I can work with that." he looked back at her with a soft smile.
"Good." she responded; she could work with it too.
A/N: Feelin meh about this chapter tbh (lol what else is new, when DON'T I?). I just feel like I took two steps back instead of forward ugh pacing is hard and so are fights and I don't like this chapter but here it is! Please, please, PLEASE tell me all of your thoughts!
I would really love to make it to 100 reviews before the next chapter! If we do, maybe I'll do some sort of giveaway or something like a guest appearance by a reviewer (yes I stole this from X23 Maximoff but it's a good idea!) So! Get this story to a 100 reviews and we'll do something cool! Thank you all for the support!