AN: Hello! This is my first story, I hope you all like it. This will be a multi-chapter story, so stay tuned! Set in first POV, so the reader can pretend that it is them if they would like. Disclaimer: None of these characters or the MCU belong to me.

My eyes glanced casually over the ever-growing stack of files on my desk. As I hummed absentmindedly, I gently tapped my bright blue pen between my fingers while slowly flipping through the file on my desk. Another day, another war vet requesting assistance.

The window caught my eyes as a glimmer of sun escaped from the murky sky. It seemed like the sun never came out anymore. As I observed the sun's rays, a figure on the ground caught my attention. Being only on the second floor, the view wasn't bad. A man dressed in sleek black clothes was sprinting across the black asphalt with a gun in his hand. Chased by two others, I rushed to grab my phone, pausing only after seeing the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the back of the pursuing men's jackets. At least this shouldn't be another issue you have to take care of I muse. The chase turns around the corner of the bank building across from you, and after no signs of commotion for several minutes, it is time to return my attention to the case file opened in front of me. While my life feels so mundane at times, it certainly felt good knowing that I'm helping lots of people. Frankly, that thought is one of the only ones that keeps me here.

Reverting back to focusing on my work and not my musings, I read the name on the file: James Rogers… I wonder if it's a relative of the famous Steve Rogers. A low chuckle left my lips; the SHIELD agents were clearly still in my head.

There were constantly SHIELD agents in this neighborhood. Ever since the Winter Soldier had fought not too far from there a few months ago, there was also men in all black talking into walkie-talkies as they marched around the streets. The elusive assassin was still M.I.A., and this being the last spot he was seen made it a popular stake out location, until they got a new lead.

Shaking my head to refocus, I began skimming the request on the file. Simple.

Reaching for the phone, I dialed the number listed under his name.

"Hello, is this Mr. Rogers?"

"Yes. Who's calling?" A gruff voice replied.

I state my name and to add some more context said, "I'm the administrative worker at "Peaceful Mind". I was just calling to inform you that your request for an appointment with a therapist will be set up shortly and was wondering if this was the best way to reach you?" I tap my pen lightly on my messy desk.

After a quick pause, the man replied, "yes this works fine. Good day." Surprised at the abrupt ending, I simply check-mark the number and flip my screen to check the calendar. I click my computer keys and in no time have made a booking for James Rogers for next Friday, and the Friday after that, at 3 pm. With the clock finally ticking to five o'clock, I decided to just call him back Monday to inquire if these times would be the best option.

I shrugged on my light brown trench coat and glanced back outside to see the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the glass. The weather has been so miserable lately. Letting out a soft sigh, I quickly tidied up my desk, closed my laptop, grabbed my bag and began walking towards the door. Michelle raced in front of me, looking frazzled.

"Quick check the news," she huffed, clearly out of breath. She rushed past me and into her office. After hearing her keyboard keys click furiously, I decided it's probably worth waiting the few extra minutes to see what's going on. My boss quickly pulled up the live footage from an airport, where Iron Man and Captain America were shown fighting with some others.

"What the hell," I exclaimed, leaning closer to the screen to assure myself I was not seeing things.

"Apparently they're fighting over the Winter Soldier. Captain America was friends with him during the war, but Iron Man wants to kill him or something." Michelle quickly explained. Leaning closer to the screen as she did.

"Where is this?" I inquired, not recognizing the area.

"Germany I think", Michelle replied, still enraptured by the scene. The footage gets cut out with the last image being a giant man in a burgundy suit. I sit down in the chair across from Michelle and shake my head.

"Man, things have been crazy since the Avengers got together. It feels like a never-ending war is raging on. Aliens, Gods, Super Soldiers, what will be next? E.T?" Chuckling, I try to make light of the newest event. The last few months here had been a shit-show with SHIELD agents roaming the streets, arresting anyone suspicious and closing off sections of road at a moments notice.

"I just don't understand why they're fighting each other? Isn't that Winter Soldier guy completely deranged?" Michelle asks, refreshing her screen every few seconds.

"Well, there must be a good reason for Cap to be on his side…" I reply, pursing my lips. Perhaps there's just been a misunderstanding. In the video footage, it didn't look like the Winter Soldier was trying to fight. Not like he did last time. He was running more than anything. I decide to keep these thoughts to myself and am only interrupted by the clicking of Michelle's mouse.

Standing up to leave, Michelle doesn't even look up but says a quick goodbye. What's happening in Germany won't involve me anyways, I reason. Shaking off the growing anxiety inside. I'll check the news again later to see if there's anything new. If they bring another fight to New York, it might be time to consider moving, I laugh at the thought.

Exiting the building, the cold wind and rain hits immediately. The weather had only worsened in the last ten minutes, and I thoroughly regret forgetting my umbrella. Of all days to forget, I scold yourself. Time to begin the now dreary walk home.

After about twenty minutes of walking, I finally reached my apartment. I let out a sigh at the prospect of climbing three flights of stairs since the damn elevator was still broken. After slowly trekking up to the third floor and sliding the key into the worn lock, I feel myself relax upon entering. While my apartment was small, it was at least decently clean, and cozy. Dropping your bag at the front, I hang up my soaking jacket, slip off my shoes and head to the bathroom for a hot shower. Gracelessly tossing my clothes aside, I hope in and let the warm water wash away a long day.

While Michelle was a nice woman, she was erratic, dramatic, and draining. She always acted well put together in front of her clients, but her struggle with alcohol was becoming apparent. She constantly trudged in late in the mornings, with bags under her eyes, and the smell of whiskey on her clothes. I'd lost count at the number of times she'd show up to work in the same outfit as yesterday, just more wrinkled. Therapists certainly had a tough profession, but after five years of working there, it was becoming tough acting like Michelle's therapist, especially since I was so unqualified.

With a bachelor's in Psychology, landing this job had been a dream. However, seeing Michelle deteriorate as the years have crept by, did make me question if this was the right path.

Deciding to focus on relaxing, I slip into my comfiest big sweater and pj bottoms and lay on the couch. The smell of my pine candle wafts towards me from the side table, making me untense. My stomach let out a low grumble, but the fatigue from my day was leaving me too tired to cook just yet. Settling for eating the open bag of chips left on the table in front of me, I turn on the TV and mindlessly begin watching some comedy show. With my heavy eyelids closing during a commercial break, I unintentionally drift to sleep, unaware of what tomorrow would bring.

Waking up sore, hungry, and late for work, was not a good combination. Having been roused from Michelle calling ten times, it was a mad rush to get ready. There was no time to brush my teeth or comb my hair, so I popped a piece of gum and grabbed a hair tie before quickly throwing on a dress and running out the door. Hailing a taxi swiftly, I hop in and text Michelle an apology.

My heart's racing as I run into the office panting. Michelle is there sitting at my desk with her lips pursed and arms crossed.

"I'm so-"

"Save it," Michelle stands up and sways slightly. Her rumpled clothes, streaked mascara, and smudged lipstick indicated another bad night for her.

"Michelle, are you still drunk?" I inquire, trying to keep a calm tone.

"No of course not!" She retorted angrily. "You cost me three appointments this morning, what the hell happened."

"I'm sorry I fell asleep on the couch by accident and didn't set an alarm. I'm so sorry Michelle-"

"You're fired."

"What?"

"Pack your shit, and get out of here," she swayed again, and spittle flew from her mouth.

I feel the years of rage bubble up inside of me, my fists clench and I clench my jaw to stop myself from saying what I really think about the unhinged woman in front of me. I swiftly grab my laptop, fountain pen, and mug and storm out. After all that I've done, being fired by a drunk Michelle was certainly a slap to the face. Yet somehow, also a relief. Her business would fail without me, I knew that much. Maybe it was finally time for that fresh start I have been hoping for…

AN: Well that is chapter one! I hope you enjoyed it. Stay tuned for chapter two.