Celia wasn't even sure how she got through the rest of her day. Normally she would be completely focused on her patients, giving them the attention they deserved. She still served them well, but after the fact, she couldn't recall a single thing about the sessions. All she could think about was the team out there fighting. About Steve fighting.
She figured it couldn't be anything like the Battle of New York, since there wasn't more buzz around it. No matter where you were that day, you heard about what was going on. Aliens tended to be international news. But even if this was a smaller scale mission, that didn't mean it wasn't dangerous. Even walking down the street could lead to a traumatic injury, so Celia couldn't take comfort in the fact that the world wasn't in chaos about this.
The second she was done with her last patient, Celia sprinted off toward the stairs. She couldn't waste time playing the elevator game or chatting with anyone on her way out. All she had to do was get to one of the private floors, then she could talk to Jarvis. It was only a few levels up before she could get her answer and she took the stairs faster than she ever had before. Even Natasha would be impressed by how she vaulted up, skipping a few steps at a time.
"Jarvis, what's happening?" Celia demanded as soon as she burst through the doors of a safe floor. This wasn't one of the floors they used, but it was empty, which meant no one listening in.
"The team was called out on a mission to Colorado," Jarvis replied.
"What is it? What are they doing?"
"I'm afraid that information is classified."
"What!" Celia shouted, staring up at the ceiling in shock and frustration. There was no way she could let that slide. Celia pulled out her phone, searching for any news she could find. Nothing had popped up for her before, but at least now she had an area to narrow things down. She pulled up all the Colorado news pages she could find, but got nothing. No one was even talking about anything on social media. Celia was in the dark and there was nothing she could do about it.
"Are they- can you tell me if they're alright?" Celia whispered, hoping that that information wasn't considered classified as well.
"There have been no major injuries reported," Jarvis answered. Celia sagged a bit in relief. That was the most important thing. She had Jarvis take her up to the penthouse floor, needing to be right there when the team got back. Getting eyes on all of them as soon as they returned was top priority. If they were hurt, she would help in any way she could. If they were fine, they could all celebrate or do whatever they usually did after a successful mission. No matter the outcome, things were going to have to change after this.
Sitting on the sidelines had never been her style, but some part of her had convinced herself that seeing the team go off on a mission would be no big deal. That was what they did and obviously she wasn't ready to join them, if she ever would be. Celia imagined teasing Steve about finally doing something instead of hanging around at home while she went to work, but there were no jokes in her mind right now. Now all she could think about was one of them getting hurt and her sitting here like an idiot without being able to do anything.
Celia had been taking her training with Natasha and Clint seriously, but she hadn't been in too much of a rush to actually go out and fight. She'd do it happily if they deemed her ready, but she'd fallen into this easy rhythm and hadn't minded if it stayed the course like this. But now it wasn't enough, because she wasn't out there with them. After this, she would do anything she could to become an asset instead of a liability.
Four more long hours passed before Jarvis spoke up again. Celia had split her time between checking the internet for any news and staring out into space, imagining the worst. No matter how much she tried to build other people up, she was a pessimist by nature. Trying to see the bright side of everything only left more opportunity for disappointment.
"The team is currently on their way back and will be arriving within the hour," Jarvis said suddenly. Celia jumped in surprise for an entirely different reason than usual. She'd never been more appreciative of the creepily smart computer. Was she a coward if she didn't ask Jarvis if any of them were hurt? He probably would've said something. Now that she knew they were coming, part of her wanted to live in this bubble where everything was okay. She'd been desperate to see them for hours, but now she wanted to stay in the uncertainty for as long as possible.
Celia got up and paced alongside the big windows, watching the sky turn dark as she waited for any signs of the jet flying in. How did Pepper deal with this? It wasn't like Celia had the kind of connection with anyone like Pepper did with Tony. And there was no possibility of Pepper joining in on missions like there was for her. But how did she go on with her day, knowing that Tony was out there fighting who knows what? Was she notified or did she prefer to be kept in the dark? From their limited interaction, Celia figured Pepper would be the type of person to want to have all the details. But did she get them? And how did she deal if she did? Celia could ask her the next time she was at the tower, but she didn't want to learn how to cope with being left behind. She wanted to be out there with them.
The jet quietly landed on the roof of the tower without any fanfare. Celia wouldn't have been surprised to see welcoming fireworks or confetti shooting out to greet Tony upon his return, but there was nothing. She stepped back over toward the couches so she wouldn't crowd them as they came in and tried to school her features into one that didn't look like she'd been on the verge of panic for close to ten hours. Jarvis would be able to sell her out in a second, but she'd still make the attempt.
"Finally back home," Tony sighed, walking straight to the bar in the back of the room. He looked just like he always did, if maybe a bit more tired. "Why anyone would want to live in Colorado is beyond me. No excitement at all."
"Well, we just had a mission there, so I'd consider that some excitement," Natasha pointed out.
"That literally none of the residents knew about," Clint laughed.
"And that was the point. Not every mission is going to be like Malta."
"I thought we agreed to never bring up Malta!" Clint hissed.
"What happened in Malta?" Bruce asked in amusement.
"A little of this, a little of that. It ended in Clint having to wear a horrendous wig and fake mustache to disguise himself until we could make it out of the city," Natasha explained.
"I was allergic to the adhesive and had a rash that wouldn't go away for weeks," Clint grumbled. Celia had gotten eyes on four of them so far, but there was one last person she needed to see before she could breathe again. They all looked fine and she knew they wouldn't be joking like this if one of them had gotten hurt, but she still needed visible confirmation.
She got it a few moments later when Steve finally walked in, his shield resting comfortably on his arm. Celia had only seen it a few times, since Steve kept it tucked away when he wasn't training with it, but this was the first time she'd seen him in his full Captain America glory. She'd also seen it during the rescue mission with the asshole Shield agents, but she didn't like to think about that. This was different though, with the suit adding to the effect. Steve looked larger than life and not at all like the down to earth guy she'd come to know.
It made her think about their argument more. There was so much about themselves that the other didn't know still. Maybe she'd been expecting too much. They both had whole lives they didn't talk about, so Celia couldn't fault Steve for being on a different level of comfort than her.
Steve was the first one to notice her standing off to the side and they stared at each other for a few moments. She wished that one of the powers she'd inherited had been xray vision, so she could check him over thoroughly, but his eyes also held the answer. They were clear and bright, just like they always were. Everyone was okay.
"Hey guys, decided to go have fun without me?" Celia asked, walking over to stand with the group. She didn't rush over to Steve like her heart wanted her to, standing a bit away from everyone.
"Not really sure about your idea of fun," Tony snorted, glaring at Bruce when he switched his glass of alcohol for water.
"Was it at least interesting?" Celia asked.
"It was classified," Clint shrugged.
"Right," Celia chuckled. That was getting a bit old. "Well, seeing as how none of you look like you need me to administer any first aid or escort you down to the clinic, I'm going to go back to my floor. I'll let you get back to any post mission, classified celebrations you do." Celia saw Steve opening his mouth to say something in response, but she didn't wait to hear it. She turned and headed to the stairs, not wanting to tie up the elevator in case anyone else was about to use it. Was she just delaying the inevitable? Probably. They did live on the same floor after all. But at least any talk they did have would happen in private down there.
Celia trotted down the stairs with much less vigor than she climbed them, feeling that last little bit of adrenaline leave her now that she knew the team was okay and she didn't have to stress anymore. And her lack of sleep from the night before was catching up with her. She didn't really see herself getting to sleep easily tonight either, but she'd suck it up and lay down in her own bed all night. This mission didn't change the fact that she couldn't keep relying on Steve so much for everything, especially if she wanted to be seen as worthy of being on the team.
She stopped in the kitchen when she got there, planning on grabbing something quick so she could hunker down in her room until morning. There was a piece of paper folded on the counter with her name on it and she froze at the sight of it. She couldn't really pretend she hadn't seen it, since it was obvious she'd been in here. Celia decided to just bite the bullet and flipped it open, reading Steve's rushed writing.
Called on a mission. Will be back soon.
"Hey," Steve said quietly from behind her.
"Hey," Celia replied, flicking at the edge of the paper.
"Sorry about the note. I wanted to tell you in person, but everything was so chaotic that there wasn't really time. And I thought it would be better if I didn't disrupt your work day." Celia chuckled, shaking her head as she turned to face him.
"Unfortunately Craig didn't have the same idea. He kind of spilled the beans about it earlier this afternoon."
"Oh, I'm sorry," Steve sighed, his face falling at hearing what happened. "We should've had a plan in place for situations like this."
"It's fine. It all worked out well in the end, right?" Celia waved off. "The most important thing is that you are all okay."
"Celia-"
"I should get to bed."
"Can we talk?"
"Tomorrow morning, I'm all yours," Celia said, trying to brush by him to get down to where their bedrooms were.
"Please?" Steve said softly, setting his hand on her arm before she could get away. She sighed, knowing she couldn't deny him when he used that voice on her. They really did need to talk, but this probably wasn't the best time for it. Over a meal when emotions weren't so high would be better, but if Steve was determined to do this right now, they'd do it now.
"Yeah," Celia agreed, moving back a few steps so she didn't have to look up at him during their discussion. And if it stopped them from reaching out to touch each other, that was a plus too.
"I'm sorry," Steve started, curling his fingers around the shield he was still holding.
"You don't-"
"But I do. You were right that I was pushing you away and it isn't fair."
"It wasn't fair of me to expect you to do something you aren't comfortable with. You are allowed to have boundaries and I need to respect them."
"But you didn't do anything wrong," Steve insisted. "I just- I don't know how to do the personal stuff. At least not when it comes to myself."
"I get it. Believe me, I do," Celia sighed. Years of her life had been dedicated to suppressing her feelings because feeling nothing had been more appealing than feeling pain. But Steve had wormed his way into her heart and there was no getting rid of him. And she really didn't want to.
"Can we just go back to how it was?" Steve asked, looking over at her hopefully. Celia wanted to say yes, to avoid disappointing him, but she couldn't.
"No, we can't," Celia murmured, glancing away at Steve's downtrodden face. "I can't- I can't keep putting myself out there on this level and you be so far behind."
"What are you-"
"I'm not making sense," Celia interrupted, shaking off her previous train of thought. This talk was taking a turn that she couldn't afford it to. They were discussing friendship and support, nothing more. "I can't rely on you for things when you push me away when you do the same. It makes me feel like a burden and I can't deal with that."
"You're not!" Steve insisted.
"But that's how it feels. You are all give and no take. I can't pay you back for being my rock through everything with dinner."
"I never said you had to pay me back for anything. Everything I do, I do because I care. Because I want to," Steve argued.
"But I want to do the same! I want to be that person for you, but you won't let me. And that's fine and I get it, but I can't accept more than you're willing to let me give." Celia could see that Steve understood her point, but she could tell he wasn't happy about it. Nothing she was saying was untrue though.
"Where do we go from here?" Steve asked quietly. Celia sighed, raking her hands through her hair.
"We go back to being friends like we've always been. I'll make us breakfast in the morning and you can tell me the unclassified details of your mission. And I'll tell you about getting stuck on the phone with insurance companies. We'll be like we were before, just…"
"Different," Steve mumbled, nodding in resigned acceptance. Celia felt the urge to keep talking, to try to get Steve to understand where she was coming from and agree that it was for the best, but she didn't think it would matter. Steve was selfless to a fault. Being told that his help was unwelcome was probably a hard blow, but that's what Celia had been feeling as well. There wasn't really anything left to say.
"Good night, Steve," Celia whispered, thinking back to a similar parting they'd had the first night she'd slept away from him in her new bed. That had been a turning point in their relationship and so was this. If they were venturing further and further away from each other, maybe that was the way things were meant to be.
"Good night, Celia," Steve replied, stepping to the side to let her leave. If this was the right move, why did it feel so bad?
Steve leaned against the shower wall, letting the water beat down on him as he thought back through all of the events that led him here. Why was it so hard for him to accept emotional support? Men of his time weren't known for showing their emotions, but he liked to think he was a bit more evolved than that. He had always been more progressive than most, having no issue with people of a different race, sexual orientation, or anything else that gave some people pause. He'd taken orders from a woman without batting an eye. But when it came down to letting himself be vulnerable, he locked up.
It wasn't that he didn't trust Celia. In fact, he was probably closer to her than anyone else in this time. Living with someone tended to do that, but they purposefully spent time together as well. He knew logically that he could go to her for anything. But he didn't trust himself. If he let himself feel things, where would it end? If he started depending on someone else, would he lose the ability to stand on his own? Steve knew that he was catastrophizing a bit, but he craved stability in this messed up world he found himself in and this just felt like a gateway to imbalance.
But what if it did the opposite? What if opening himself up and letting Celia in fully led to situations and feelings that were bigger than they were now? They'd had flashes of intensity, but always backed off afterwards. What if this put them on a trajectory that they couldn't divert? What if one of them started feeling things that the other didn't?
Steve was sure Celia had alluded to something along those lines during their talk, but she'd quickly backed away from that subject. Did she do that because she regretted bringing it up? Was it some offhanded comment that she didn't really mean? Steve could always be bold and ask her, but that sounded just as hard as everything else.
Was this better though? Nothing had even happened yet and he was already feeling the loss. He couldn't fault Celia for following his lead and more than once since that morning, he replayed her quiet question to him. Her asking if she did something wrong had been a bit of her insecurity coming out and Steve hated that he'd been the cause. It was one thing for her to choose to be vulnerable, but that hadn't been her seeking comfort. That had been her expressing pain and she hadn't deserved to be feeling it. Celia had laid with him for hours and he couldn't even show that he appreciated it. But he did. He just didn't know how to show it.
Was Steve Rogers going to let fear run his life? Was he going to let this ruin one of the best things he had right now? He couldn't, because Steve had never run away from a fight in his life and he wasn't planning on starting now. Celia wasn't expecting him to pour his heart out to her, only for him to make an effort to accept what he was always willing to give out. He owed it to her and himself to at least try.
Steve turned off the shower and dried off in record time, not wanting to waste time and lose his nerve. He also wasn't too keen on waiting too long and running the risk of waking up Celia after she'd already fallen asleep. That was still a very sore spot for him, taking the blame for every night she went through that pain. But tonight wasn't about his guilt. It was about trying.
He threw on some sleep clothes and grabbed his pillow, padding down the hallway like a kid who'd just had a bad dream. That was last night though. Steve hesitated outside of the bedroom door, resting his forehead on the frame. What if Celia turned him away? He didn't think she would, but he wouldn't blame her if she did. Maybe this attempt was too soon after their talk, but his gut told him waiting even longer would make things harder. Steve finally worked up the courage and tapped his finger against the door.
"Yeah?" Celia asked from inside the closed room.
"Hey," Steve whispered.
"Hey."
"Can I…"
"Yeah."
Steve slowly opened the door, peeking in to find Celia sitting on top of the covers of her bed. She obviously hadn't tried falling asleep yet, which was a bit of a relief. But she also looked a bit forlorn.
"Hey."
"So, I was wondering," Steve started, opening the door all the way to show her what he was holding, "do you think we could try?" Celia glanced down at his hands before looking back up at his face, understanding in her eyes. And maybe a bit of appreciation.
"Yeah."
Steve walked over as Celia turned down the covers and slid under them herself. He climbed in next to her, feeling a little strange getting into her bed instead of the other way around. Her blankets seemed to have a bit more fluff to them, which was nice. But the most important part was the person who was lying next to him.
"I might mess up," Steve admitted, rolling onto his side to face her.
"I know," Celia said, matching his position.
"We can go slow?"
"Of course," Celia agreed. "Just don't treat me like a regret afterwards."
"Never."
