Chapter 17

The low, monotonous rumble of the jet's engine was all that could be heard as the team made their way back to headquarters. No one had spoken after the debriefing, and Lucy wished that someone would. She could still feel the earth-shaking explosions throughout her body, and the bloody image of the man in the hold kept cropping up in her mind's eye. She needed something to distract her from the constant sickening pit in her stomach.

She glanced over at Steve, yet again, and he looked up in time to catch her eye with a concerned expression. She gave him a small smile and averted her eyes once more. The last thing she wanted to do was make him worry about her. After all, she was fine—just a little shaken up. It was probably pretty normal to react like this after going through what she just had for the first time. She would get over it. And it was bound to get easier with every mission. She didn't want to burden her friend with her own mental and emotional hang-ups, nor did she want to appear weak in contrast to the calm, stoic air of everyone else on the team. Her eyes drifted over to Rumlow, and then to a couple of the other members. Some of them were a little worse for wear, but at least none had been lost, and the mission had been a success. She had done her part well. Of that, she could be proud. She would just have to assume—and hope—that, in the same way that her body had grown accustomed to the physical training, her mind would grow accustomed to what was expected of her on these missions, and someday soon, it might not effect her anymore. Then again, maybe she wouldn't be forced to take a life frequently enough to get used to it. Which would be a good thing, but having to deal with this feeling throughout her entire career with S.H.I.E.L.D. was not something that she had foreseen when she'd agreed to Pierce's offer. She probably should have.

She let her mind wander, while trying to aim it in the direction of her parents, Lena, even her old coworkers—anything to pass the time as pleasantly as possible. She eventually resorted to singing some of her favorite songs in her head.

Finally, they reached DC, and the Quinjet descended to the landing pad. As soon as it touched down, the hatch lowered, and the members of STRIKE disembarked. It was night, and the chill in the air reached Lucy through her tactical suit. She was suddenly aware of just how tired she felt. She was more than ready to get out of the uniform, retreat back to the quiet safety of her new home, and curl up in bed for the rest of the night. Surely she would feel better after some good sleep. Or maybe she wouldn't have such an easy time calming her mind, no matter how exhausted she was. Either way, she was no longer required to remain at headquarters, and that was relieving.

The team made their way back to the armory, and Lucy wasted no time in unloading her gear, heading straight for the locker room, stripping off the snug catsuit, and stepping into the nearest shower. The cascade of water over her back and neck was effectively washing away the sweat, working to soothe her muscles, and she wished that it could be so easy to wash away the unwelcome image of the bloodied man in her mind's eye.

Steve was already waiting for her when she returned to the garage. The sight of him once again in his casual attire, his brown leather jacket and button-down shirt replacing the bold star and stripes, was somehow comforting. As she approached him, she realized that he didn't look nearly as tired as she felt. She hoped that she didn't look it either.

"You okay?" he asked.

Lucy smiled as well as she could. "Yeah. Ready to go home."

"Yes, Ma'am."

He swung one leg over the bike, and she followed suit, taking her place behind him. This time, she didn't hesitate to secure her arms around his waist.

She huddled against his broad back as they drove out into the night, across the bridge. The wind whipped at her short hair as she gazed at the water. The Potomac was a grand sight in the darkness, lit by the moonlight and the nearby security lights of the Triskelion. She was back—home, as she had come to start thinking of this city. But tonight, it felt a little different. This may be the first time for her to see the river and S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters in the darkness, but that wasn't the cause. As if something were missing. Changed.

She equated it to homesickness, but knew that it was due to what had happened on the assignment. She closed her eyes and resisted leaning her head against the man in front of her. Sleep. Sleep would fix this. She had always felt better after a good night's sleep when it came to arguments with her parents and other upsetting matters. Her inviting apartment with its cozy bed was waiting for her. She just had to bear with it a little while longer. She focused on Steve's solid, reassuring form as he steered the motorcycle through DC traffic, embracing the change in motion as she leaned with him at every turn.

Steve pulled into his usual spot and killed the engine, leaving the sparsely lighted street in abrupt quiet disrupted only by the distant ambient noise of the busier parts of the city.

The two of them climbed the front steps. Steve unlocked the door, and, like the natural gentleman that he was, pushed it open and allowed Lucy to enter the house before himself. As they climbed the stairs, Lucy was perhaps a bit overly conscious of his presence behind her. She got off at the second floor, then, realizing that she hadn't thanked Steve for driving her home, turned to look back at him—and saw that he had paused on the landing.

"Thanks for the ride." As soon as she had spoken, she realized that it was probably unnecessary to have thanked him, considering that he hadn't really had a choice in the matter, since he had brought her to headquarters in the first place. She felt foolish, but Steve merely smiled, his eyes soft and kind.

"You're welcome."

"Good night," she said, returning the smile with some lingering embarrassment.

"Good night."

She headed for her apartment without further delay, and heard Steve's footsteps continuing up the stairs once again as she unlocked her door.

The homey apartment was quiet. Too quiet. She turned on the nearest lamp in the living room, feeling much too alone. But she repressed the feeling and went straight for the bedroom to change out of her street clothes. Sleep, she reminded herself. Sleep is the only thing that matters right now.

And sleep came. Rather easily at that.

Then, she was jolted awake by a vivid dream that had grown too unpleasant to sleep through.

She took a few moments to come to her senses, then sighed with a soft groan when she realized that it was still dark out. She closed her eyes, hoping for sleep to take her again, but the dream—the nightmare—was at the forefront of her mind, making it difficult to relax. She turned over and tried to force the images from her brain.

Before long, she heaved a sigh and gave up. She got out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

When she returned, she noticed that the soft, dim blue light of early dawn was visible around the edges of her bedroom shades. Knowing that she wasn't likely to have any luck with sleep again, she made the decision to step outside for a while. She hadn't had this much trouble sleeping since those nights at the training facility.

After changing into semi-loose-fitting sweatpants and a T-shirt, she grabbed her phone and a pair of earbuds, slipped on a hoodie, and left the apartment, making sure to remember her keys. They jingled slightly in her hoodie pocket as she descended the stairs, and partway down, she thought that she heard the front door close. She reached the entryway a few seconds later and opened the door. The brisk dawn air sent a chill through her, helping to clear away the rest of her grogginess. She looked left, toward the street corner, then right—and saw him, walking away. Though his back was to her, clad in a hooded navy-blue sweatshirt coupled with a pair of grey sweatpants, she knew, without question, that it was him.

She hesitated, unsure about whether to call out to him, but only for a moment.

"Steve?"

He stopped and turned around. A smile parted his lips, and he jogged back to her. "Morning. You're up early."

"Yeah. Couldn't sleep," she admitted, trying to sound like it wasn't a big deal.

"Care to join me?" he asked, and as soon as Lucy gave him a quizzical look, he elaborated. "I'm gonna go for a run, down at the park. It's a bit of a walk, but, if you want . . ."

Lucy smiled eagerly, thankful for the unexpected distraction. "I'd love to. Thanks."

Lucy fell into step beside the captain, and instantly, that familiar, comforting feeling that she hadn't experienced in a while returned to her. The morning chill was nearly forgotten as they walked side by side.

It was quite a walk to the park, but Lucy didn't mind in the least, and by the time they arrived, the grogginess had dissipated, and the nightmare had stopped bothering her.

The trees parted, leading into the enormous man-made clearing. The vast Reflection Pool stretched out before them, and at the opposite end stood the sharp, imposing spire that was the Washington Monument. It was all somehow even more grand than Lucy had imagined after seeing it in countless pictures and movies over the course of her life.

Despite the lengthy walk, the sight of what lay before her, bathed in the sparse, pale light of the rising sun and completely devoid of tourists, like some other world, made her want to run.

Steve looked down at her. "Well?"

She smiled, a sudden excitement overcoming her. "I'll race you."

The captain smirked, a grin threatening to break through. "You're on."

There was a moment in which the two of them just watched each other, both waiting for the other to make the first move. Then, they took off, racing toward the wide, glassy stretch of water.

The pale orange, yellow and dusky lavender of the dawn sky reflected in the surface of the Pool, making their surroundings feel even more vast and magnificent as they ran alongside it. Steve easily took the lead, but Lucy, determined to put up a decent fight before she was left in the dust, ran harder. She felt the weight of her phone and heard the faint jingling of her keys in her hoodie pocket, and hoped that they wouldn't fall out, for she was having too much fun to stop and take heed of them.

She kept her eyes on Steve's back. It wasn't until they were nearing the end of the Reflection Pool that she realized that she wasn't falling any farther behind him. He's going easy on me!

She forced her legs to pump faster, her muscles and lungs working overtime, and slowly gained a couple of feet on the man in front of her.

"That all you got, Captain?" she teased, and, predictably, the super soldier increased his pace. Relishing the challenge, she ran even harder, and was surprised and excited to find that she wasn't being left in the dust.

They rounded the far end of the Pool and raced back. Steve made it to their starting point mere feet ahead of Lucy. She slowed and came to a stop, trying to catch her breath, feeling more exhilarated than spent. She had never run so hard in her life, and it felt incredible.

She turned to Steve and said with a smile as her heart rate began to decrease, "You didn't have to go easy on me."

He shook his head, looking at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. "You're underestimating yourself. Seems like you've gotten faster."

Taken aback, Lucy stared at him for a moment, processing. Wait . . . She turned and beheld the enormous length of the Reflection Pool. It hadn't seemed that long a moment ago. She looked back to Steve with a tiny, teasing smile. "You mean . . . I almost beat Captain America in a foot race?"

"Almost," he stressed, a smirk of his own gracing his lips. "Don't get ahead of yourself, Artemis."

Lucy exhaled a small laugh, surprised by his sudden use of her code name in retaliation. "Really?"

Steve shrugged nonchalantly and gazed into the distance, toward the Washington Monument. He then looked back to the young woman beside him. "Wanna try again?"

Lucy's eyes narrowed slightly at the challenge. She didn't even need to think about it.

The pair took off once more, alongside the crisp, still water in the soft light of the rising sun.


Lucy closed the door of her apartment behind her, feeling both exhilarated and pleasantly tired from the early-morning sprints and the long walks to and from the park. The intense workout with Steve—with her friend—gave her that sense of normalcy that she had been sorely missing. Now feeling much more positive than when she had awakened, she headed straight for the kitchen for a drink of water, then to the shower to freshen up.

She toweled off her hair and set to making herself a simple breakfast of a fried egg, toast with strawberry jam, and a tall glass of ice water. Food in hand, she made herself comfortable on the sofa and turned on the television. Not feeling too much like watching the news after the stress of the previous night and the good time that she'd had this morning, she flipped through the guide until a title caught her eye: The Adventures of Robin Hood. She turned straight to it.

When she was younger she had watched the classic Errol Flynn movie quite a bit, but it had now been many years since she'd seen it. She smiled through a bite of toast as Robin forced his way past the guards and into the great hall by fending them off and knocking them to the ground with the buck that he carried across his shoulders. Once he had tossed the deer onto the head table in front of Prince John, the banter ensued. Lucy loved witty banter, particularly in the form of Shakespeare and other bygone or infrequently used styles of the English language.

Prince John proceeded to introduce Lady Marian to Robin.

The man in green removed his hand respectfully and bowed. "I hope my lady had a pleasant journey from London?"

Marian looked at him with contempt. "What you hope can hardly be important." Lucy smirked inwardly at the lady's current disdain for the young man.

"What a pity her manners don't match her looks, Your Highness," Robin quipped. Marian continued to glare at him.

Prince John laughed. "You hear that, gentlemen? Here's poor Gisbourne so in love with Marian he daren't say 'boo' to her, but this saucy fellow gives her better than she sends."

Lucy continued with her breakfast as Robin was invited to dine, then put her plate aside and settled in to watch the rest of the movie. It was a beautiful film, and she had always assumed that it had been made in the 1950s or '60s, so to find out that it was from 1938 had definitely been a surprise. Ahead of its time, it seemed, much like the sweeping, gorgeous Lord of the Rings films had been.

The forest-feast scene began with the rollicking announcement, "To the tables, everybody, and stuff yourselves!" which made Lucy smile. That had always been one of her and her parents' favorite lines.

As the movie went on, she found herself wondering whether Steve had seen it, and her mind began to wander a bit, thinking of other movies from the thirties and early forties that he may have seen. It was kind of mind-blowing to think that he must have gone to the movie theater all those decades ago, when these kinds of films were new and so exciting. She had, in the past, wondered what that would have been like. Sure, she appreciated and liked many old movies, but to experience them as she would a contemporary action-adventure would really be something.

Following the movie, Lucy got up to take care of her dishes from breakfast, get some more water, and take a trip to the bathroom, as one of TCM's between-movie specials played. Seeing as she had done the laundry the day before, there wasn't much to accomplish in the way of chores, so it felt like a good day for movies.

It appeared to be Errol Flynn day, for Captain Blood was on next. Lucy hunkered in for a second time, looking forward to this one for an entirely different reason than Robin Hood: It had been so long that she didn't remember it at all. She wished that she had some homemade popcorn.

After a while, she found herself glancing at her phone on the side table, thinking not of Lena, but of Steve. She was suddenly tempted to text him and ask what he was up to, but decided against it almost as quickly as the thought had come to her—though she wasn't sure why. He probably wouldn't mind hearing from her; they were friends. He had given her no reason to assume that texting him would be an annoyance. And yet, she refrained, focusing back on the movie. Although, from then on, she couldn't get the idea of a movie night with Steve out of her head. She wondered if he watched many movies. Televisions seemed more commonplace than smartphones, but to a man of the early decades of the twentieth century, was a TV really any easier to operate? Of course, he would surely know how to use one by now.

She often wondered what he occupied himself with when she was cleaning or hanging around her apartment, but now she really began to wonder. She couldn't imagine that he did absolutely nothing just because he was still new to modern life. Maybe he liked to read? She reflexively glanced back at her phone. Before she had really made up her mind either way, the device was in her hand. She unlocked it and pulled up her contacts. For some reason, her heart was beating a little harder than usual. She tried to ignore it as she scrolled through the list. She stopped, and the captain's name stared back at her. She lifted her thumb from the screen, to avoid accidentally calling him. It took a few seconds, but she decided to give it a try. Her thumb hovered for a second longer, and in that moment of indecision, the screen abruptly changed to the caller ID, and the device vibrated, startling her so badly that she nearly dropped it. For an instant, she thought—hoped—that it could be Steve. And she tried not to feel disappointed when she saw Lena smiling up at her from her display picture. On the bright side, talking to her best friend would prevent her from struggling over whether or not to text Steve. It felt like a bit of a cop-out, but at the moment, she would take it. She answered the call.

Lena's cheerful voice greeted her, and they launched into a casual conversation while Lucy absently continued to watch the movie.

The afternoon came and went uneventfully, Lucy having given up the notion of contacting Steve, and soon it was time for dinner. And, as she had spent the day sitting around, she now had the urge to go out. Considering both of these things, and the fact that there wasn't much left in her cupboards and fridge, she decided that Chinese food sounded fantastic. After a quick search for nearby restaurants, she headed out.

As she made her way downstairs, she couldn't help but wonder what Steve was doing for dinner. Did he cook? She wasn't sure if she could properly imagine Captain America preparing a home-cooked meal, but the thought made her smile. Maybe she would text him when she got back and ask whether he liked Chinese takeout.

It was amazing how a life-or-death situation like she had experienced the previous day could make her feel more secure walking through the city streets alone as night began to fall. She had briefly considered driving, but somehow, going on foot and potentially having to defend herself from a mugger seemed less daunting than navigating the busy streets in an unfamiliar vehicle.

The cool September night was refreshing, so by the time that she had walked the few blocks to the restaurant, she was more than ready for some hot food. The sharp, vivid aromas of Asian spices hit her as soon as she stepped into the quaint little place. She had made a good choice.

After placing her order, she stood aside and watched what she could see of the bustle in the semi-open kitchen. The sizzling of ingredients in searing-hot pans and the clanking of kitchenware acted as a pleasant kind of background noise for the few patrons currently eating at the tables.

Service was fast, and she was soon walking out with a paper bag filled abundantly with steaming cardboard cartons. The aromas practically made her salivate as she hugged the bag close and began to retrace her route back to her apartment.

She was still a couple of blocks from home when she heard it.

A scream.

She stopped in her tracks, searching in the rapidly increasing darkness for the woman. Cries of distress continued after the initial scream, enabling Lucy to zero in on the direction of the apparent victim, and she took off as fast as she could, slightly hindered by the bag in her arms.

It didn't take her long to find the source of the cries.

As she approached the dark alleyway, nerves twisted her stomach, but she immediately quelled them by reminding herself that she had very recently taken on multiple armed men, and what she was about to step into here would probably be a minor detour in comparison. Still, her pulse began to quicken as she steeled herself and entered the shadowy gap between buildings.

The woman had apparently been struggling valiantly against her assailant as he'd attempted to wrench her purse from her hands, though it couldn't have been long, since Lucy had reached the alley quickly, thanks to her enhanced speed. She was just in time to see the man racing away with the small bag, the woman having fallen to the rough, dirty concrete. Lucy practically dropped her bag of food, and took off after the culprit without hesitation.

The shadowy figure wheeled around the corner, onto the street ahead, with Lucy gaining rapidly. "Stop!" she cried, though she knew ahead of time that the thief would not heed her command.

She closed the gap within the next block, and grabbed a handful of his shirt, bringing him to an abrupt halt. The man immediately spun around and swung his arm at her. She barely had to think about it as her instincts kicked in. She blocked the attack and forced the man backwards, into the nearest wall.

"Drop it," she demanded forcefully, pinning him in place. He glared at her and tried to throw her off, but she managed to hold him still, adrenaline pumping through her in a steady wave.

After a moment, it was clear that the man had no intention of handing over the purse, so Lucy increased the pressure on him slightly before reaching for the bag in his right hand.

Suddenly, a pain shot through her skull, accompanied by a sharp ringing in her ears, and she doubled over, temporarily losing her focus on the task at hand. Panic arose within her as the incident on the field back at the training facility flashed vividly through her mind. Why is this happening again? It wasn't supposed to happen again!

Somehow, despite the pain, she managed to keep her grip on the man in front of her, and after a few seconds of struggle, she grit her teeth and reached for the bag once again. She tore it from the man's hand and prepared herself for a fight, but apparently he did not want to bother with her, for which she was immensely grateful, considering that the pain had increased, and as soon as the thief had fled down the sidewalk, she was on her knees.

She bent over, clutching her head, the only thought in her mind a repetitive plea for whatever was happening to stop and for her to not be dying. Then, the ringing faded, and the pain ebbed, and she was left sitting on the cold concrete, in the quiet of the city street. She felt shaken and somewhat weak—whether from fear, or the pain, or the aftermath of the adrenaline, she wasn't entirely sure. But she was alive, and conscious. And, in spite of the sudden, frightening episode, she had succeeded in recovering the woman's belongings. Even so, the traumatic incident seemed to have made it impossible for her to move. Her heart still pounded, and she could only stare at the pavement, practically holding her breath in anticipation of more pain. She could almost feel the pressure building in her skull . . .

Suddenly, a light pinging tone from inside of her pocket cut through the night, jarring her out of her trance. As if only now realizing her current position, she glanced around, scanning the area for anyone who might have witnessed the incident, but there was currently no one in sight. She let out a relieved, trembling breath, hoping that no one had passed by without her noticing, and dug into her pocket to retrieve her phone.

1 Unread Message: Steve

A different kind of adrenaline surged through her, effectively clearing her head, and she could hardly open the message fast enough as she got back to her feet, clutching the purse strap tightly.

'How are you holding up?'

She stared down at the screen and felt her chest constrict. How could he have known that she'd needed to hear from him at that moment?

As her thumb hovered over the keyboard to reply, she hesitated. She wanted to tell him. But did she want him to worry? Was it necessary? She focused on her physical state, the seconds passing as she tried to determine whether she was out of the woods—which she really had no way of knowing. What had even triggered it? Had she overexerted herself? But she had been fine during the mission . . . She closed her eyes, struggling against the urge to just tell her friend everything and have him come running—as she knew that he would—but she suddenly became especially conscious of the weight of the purse in her hand, and with some difficulty, she steered her mind in another direction. She began to type.

'I'm okay. Join me for dinner? If you like Chinese food.'

Several seconds passed. Then, her stomach gave a tiny flutter of excitement and hope as she saw that he was replying.

'I'd love to.'

'Cool,' she wrote, wishing that she had the presence of mind to come up with something a little more eloquent. 'I'll let you know when I get home.'

She pocketed her phone, and with one last fleeting glance at her surroundings, she began to retrace her steps, back to the alley, hoping that the woman—and her bag of takeout—would still be there.


Note: Once again, thank you for all of your patience! I have some good, solid plans for these next chapters, and I'm so looking forward to them! I can't see Chapter 18 taking as long as 16 and 17, but I don't want to assume incorrectly, just in case something comes up... lol
I will continue to post writing-status updates on my profile! :)

P.S. I hope that you're all having a good year so far~