OHMYWORD I AM SO SO SORRY! My dear readers, I truly apologize for the long wait! I have had a long few months and this chapter was a pain in my butt. School picked up at the end (as I should have expected) and then came finals and then summer and then vacation and yeah, it was hard to write. I am so sorry it has taken me so long to get this chapter written! For some reason, it has been one of the hardest chapters to write. Whether that's because I was pulled in a million different directions or I just didn't seem to have motivation, it wasn't completed as quickly as desired. I am sorry :(
But, it is done and I'm uploading it now! Thank you thank you thank you to everyone who has stuck with this story and to those that are beginning to read this story. It means so much to me to see that people are still interested in the story even after such a long wait. I'm hoping I can be better and upload sooner but I will not make promises I cannot fulfill. Just know, that I have every intention of finishing this story and though I'm no where near the end of this story, I will finish it! So even if there are long spaces with no update, have no fear, I will finish it! You all have been so patient so I give you a little bit of a longer chapter :) It was supposed to go farther but I just needed to stop and get it uploaded. You guys deserved an update :)
However, I wrote this one a little differently than my others in that I took breaks while writing. Usually, I try to write a chapter in one sitting so that I don't interrupt the flow of the dialogue and such. But I had to change that for this one so, please please please tell me if it doesn't flow or read correctly. I am sorry for any confusions or mistakes (there are some) but I would love it if you told me! I hope the next chapter I will be able to go back to my original way of writing. Thank you again for continuing to read this story! Please review and let me know what you think! (even if it's to chew me out for not uploading. I understand, it is deserved). Thank you! And enjoy the story :D
"Are you sure you'll be alright, Steve?" Charlie asked. She zipped up her bag and turned to Steve, blowing hair out of her face.
"Nathan and Betty need you, Charlie. If you don't leave soon you're going to miss your flight," Steve responded. He did a quick sweep of his apartment to see if Charlie had left anything. Seeing nothing, he looked back at Charlie. Her eyes were narrowed at him and she had her hands on her hips.
"You didn't answer my question."
"Because we both know the answer." Charlie sighed and let her arms relax. Her face softening, she opened her arms. Steve accepted the hug gratefully, needing one more before she left. She was a comfort to him and he wasn't about to admit how worried he was about what would happen when she left.
"Take care of yourself, you hear?"
"I'll try."
"Stay safe, Steven Rogers."
"I'll do my best ma'am." Steve smiled at the familiar phrase and pulled away. Charlie smiled up at him, all warmth and comfort. Steve picked up her bags before she could protest and led the way outside. He helped Charlie into the waiting taxi, waving as she drove away. Steve had held a smile on his face for Charlie but as soon as she was out of sight, he let it slip. The emptiness was back and the one thing that seemed to chase it away had just left. Steve took a deep breath and went back to his apartment. It felt cold and stale without Charlie there. She'd only been there three days but it had helped him immensely. He missed her already. Get ahold of yourself, Steve thought. It's not the end of the world.
Steve went to the kitchen and attempted to make something. Not only was grief pulling at his heart but the uncertainty was creeping back. Uncertainty about the helicarriers, Project Insight, S.H.I.E.L.D. He was conflicted and torn. Did he follow orders blindly or stand up for what he believed in? Did he stay with S.H.I.E.L.D. or forge his own path? Steve gave up on the idea of cooking and grabbed his helmet. He wanted to get out, to get away from the turmoil that had entered his life. He needed a place to think but his thoughts were too scrambled to even be understandable. Steve drove down the street, enjoying the feel of the engine, the sound of the gears. But where to go? Steve glanced around to find his surroundings and realized he was at the VA. The man he'd gone running with popped into his head. What was his name? Sam. Sam Wilson. Might as well make good on that suggestion, Steve thought as he turned around and pulled into the parking lot.
The VA was quiet and spacious. Natural light streamed in through the windows as Steve walked down the hall. Pictures of Veterans lined the wall, each with a short description of who they were and there service in the military. Steve walked by a bulletin board cluttered with flyers. Some read: Adjusting to Civilian Life, with David Yates. How to Write a Military Resume, with Dr. Nelson Burn. Reliving War and Other Experiences, with Sam Wilson. Steve looked at the last flyer and walked in the direction of the designated room. The time on the flyer said it was almost over but maybe he could catch the last bit. As Steve approached the room, he heard a woman speaking.
"The thing is I think it's getting worse. A cop pulled me over last week, he thought I was drunk. I swerved to miss a plastic bag. I thought it was an IED." The woman's voice was filled with emotion and she looked down into her hands, guilt and embarrassment written across her face. Steve leaned against a support beam, intrigued and listened. Men and women sat in plastic chairs, listening to the woman's story. Some nodded their heads, knowing what the woman was talking about. Sam stood at the front of the room behind a podium looking solemn but understanding.
"Some stuff you leave there, other stuff you bring back," Sam said, leaning forward on the podium. Images flashed in Steve's mind of nightmares he'd had. He hadn't gotten a decent amount of sleep in a long time because of the nightmares. That and the paranoia. Steve looked down, realizing he was carry a lot more from the past than he'd even realized.
"It's our job to figure out how to carry it. Is it gonna be in a big suitcase or in a little man-purse? It's up to you." Steve watched Sam speak, impressed with the compassion and understanding in the other man's voice. He could see its comforting effect on the soldiers present and feel it himself. After that, Sam dismissed everyone for the day and started saying his goodbyes. Many came up to Sam, thanking him for what he did. Others simply nodded or shook Sam's hand, their action conveying their feeling. Steve waited until the last few trickled out before he started walking towards Sam.
"I'll see you next week," the woman who had spoken earlier said, shaking Sam's hand.
"Yeah," Sam replied. He turned and finally noticed Steve walking towards him. Sam smiled slightly, heading towards a small table.
"Look who it is. The running man," Sam said, organizing some flyers on the table. Steve scoffed at the name and put his hands in his pockets.
"Caught the last few minutes. It's pretty intense."
"Yeah, brother, we all got the same problems. Guilt, regret," Sam said the last two words slowly, looking away at the people who were leaving. Those words weren't just descriptions for Sam, they held meaning. Steve knew what those words felt like, especially when Bucky had died.
"You lose someone?" Steve asked. Sam's face flickered with emotion but he nodded.
"My wingman, Riley. Flying the night mission. A standard PJ rescue op, nothing we hadn't done a thousand times before, till an RPG knocked Riley's dumb a** out of the sky. Nothing I could do. It's like I was up there just to watch." Steve watched as Sam's face morphed from grief to anger to resignation. Steve looked down, not wanting to see the pain. He'd felt the pain first hand and nothing dulled the ache.
"I'm sorry," Steve said, meaning it. No one should have to lose their partner, or best friend.
"After that, I had a really hard time finding a reason for being over there, you know?" Sam responded. Steve looked down again, knowing exactly what Sam meant. It had been so hard to keep fighting when Bucky was gone. Steve had only continued because of Peggy and the other Howling Commandoes.
"But you're happy now, back in the world?" Steve asked. Suddenly, Steve was very interested in the answer to his question. The turmoil he'd been feeling could all be forgotten if he left S.H.I.E.L.D. right? Wouldn't that make life better?
"Hey, the number of people giving me orders is down to about," Sam looked around, "zero. So, hell, yeah. You thinking about getting out?" Sam was direct and to the point. Steve had forgotten how well soldiers could read each other.
"No," Steve responded automatically. He couldn't leave. Could he? Sam raised his eyebrows, prompting Steve to think about it.
"I don't know. To be honest, I don't know what I would do with myself if I did," Steve said. He was being honest. When he wasn't on missions he was training. When he wasn't training he was sleeping, eating, or talking to Charlie. He didn't have a lot of free time.
"Ultimate fighting?" Sam suggested with a grin. Steve chuckled, shaking his head.
"It's just a great idea off the top of my head. But seriously, you could do whatever you want to do. What makes you happy?" Sam asked. Steve's eyebrows pulled together as he thought about the question. What made him happy?
"I don't know," Steve replied honestly. It had been a long time since anyone had asked him what he wanted.
"Well, I think it's time you started thinking about it." Sam's watch started beeping and he looked down.
"I gotta go but you should come by again. Try something new," Sam said, smiling.
"I'll put it on the list," Steve laughed, shaking Sam's hand. Sam led him out the door and waved as he got in his car. Steve waved back and walked to his motorcycle. He drove around for a little while longer, chewing on what Sam had said. Ultimate fighting? Doing what he wanted? And what was that exactly? Could Steve really leave S.H.I.E.L.D to do something else? But the problem was that Steve liked what he did. He liked helping people and making sure they were treated correctly. There was more though, something Steve hadn't admitted even to himself. There was a deeper, maybe not so right reason, Steve wanted to stay in the military. Before that thought could come to fruition, a buzz in his jacket pocket alerted him to a new text. Thinking it might be a mission assignment, Steve pulled over next to a park and checked his phone.
Natasha: What about that girl from public relations? The one who always writes your speeches ;)
Steve sighed in frustration. Natasha kept trying to hook him up with someone, for no known reason except to annoy him. Maybe it had something to do with him being "too stiff" but he didn't really care. Okay, maybe he did. A little bit. Steve had overheard a couple people talking saying how he was too stiff and needed to get laid. Not understanding the term, Steve had looked it up later and was none too happy by the meaning. Yeah, he was going to be a "little stiff" after being frozen for seventy years. That didn't mean he needed to sleep with someone to relax. Honestly, he didn't like the thinking. Intimacy was supposed to have more meaning behind it than just having fun and it should be with someone you love. Maybe that was old fashioned but Steve was sticking to it.
Not replying to Natasha, Steve looked around. It was a nice park and had only a few people walking around. Steve took off his helmet, deeming it safe enough that he could walk around unnoticed. Thank goodness he kept the journal Charlie gave him in his jacket because this was a perfect place to sketch. Steve put some quarters in the parking meter and wandered through the park. Finding a nice shady bench, he sat down taking out his book. He looked at the growing list of things he needed to do and flipped to the back where his sketches were. He would sketch anything and everything. What was in front of him, something from a mission, a good memory. Today, Steve settled on memories and started sketching his last few moments with Peggy. He spent hours sketching, losing track of time and not even realizing the few stares he got.
By the time he looked up, the sun was beginning to set and his stomach growled. He quickly packed up and headed back to his bike. A parking ticket sat on his seat and Steve sighed. Maybe I should set an alarm next time, Steve thought as he pocketed the ticket and climbed on the bike. He revved the bike, put on his helmet, and took off back to his apartment. He still had some leftovers from Charlie's meal last night so he'd just reheat that. Steve felt a twinge of sadness that Charlie wouldn't be there when he came home. He enjoyed her company. And maybe that was why when he saw his neighbor carrying a load of laundry, he spoke without really thinking. Or he wanted to help. It was probably both but nevertheless, Steve acted on impulse.
"That's so sweet. That is so nice. Hey. I gotta go, though. Okay, bye," Kate said into a phone at her ear. She glanced at Steve and gave a little smile. She pressed a button and put her phone away.
"My aunt, she's kind of an insomniac," Kate explained. Steve smiled, understanding long sleepless nights and the need to talk to someone.
"Yep," she added almost to herself as she turned to leave.
"Hey, if you want," Steve paused, gathering his courage. "If you want, you're welcome to use my machine. Might be cheaper than the one in the basement." Kate's eyes widened and she readjusted her hold on her laundry basket.
"Oh, yeah? What's it cost?"
"A cup of coffee?" Steve asked. He was surprising himself with how bold he was being but he wanted to talk to someone. Needed to actually. There was a flicker of something on Kate's face and Steve's hope dropped into his stomach.
"Thank you, but um...I already have a load in downstairs, and, uh...you really don't want my scrubs in your machine. I just finished orientation in the infectious diseases ward, so," Kate trailed off. Steve took a step back and put his hands up teasingly, using humor to cut through the awkwardness.
"Ah, well, I'll keep my distance."
"Well hopefully not too far." Steve nodded, surprised at the statement. So he'd basically asked her out on a date and she'd kindly refused him but she still wanted to be friends? Steve put the thought out of his mind for now, to chew on later and turned towards his door.
"Oh, and I think you left your stereo on," Kate said before heading downstairs. Steve's brow furrowed and he listened for music. Sure enough, a record was playing softly in Steve's apartment. His mind frame went from awkward-yet-friendly conversation to high alert. He hadn't left his music on when he left.
"Oh. Right, thank you," Steve said as calmly as he could, not wanting to alert his neighbor to something being wrong.
"Yeah," Kate responded and went downstairs. Steve turned to his door, double-checking his hearing. There was definitely music coming from his apartment. Steve looked around the hallway before going to the roof. He climbed down the fire escape as quietly and stealthily as possible, opening his window without a noise. Steve grabbed his shield and walked through his apartment to the noise and light. With a jolt, he realized that Peggy's record was playing. It's been a long, long time. As he rounded the corner to his living room, Steve's caution turned to annoyance. Fury sat in shadow, hidden from view unless someone had enhanced eyes.
"I don't remember giving you a key," Steve accused. He hadn't wanted to see his superior until tomorrow, much less in his apartment.
"You really think I'd need one? My wife kicked me out," Fury said gruffly. Something in his voice threw a red flag for Steve but he was too annoyed to dwell upon it. The music wasn't helping his mood either. Steve was being torn between the desire to shout at Fury and cry like a baby.
"Didn't know you were married."
"There are a lot of things you don't about me."
"I know, Nick. That's the problem," Steve sighed. He flicked the lights on and froze. Fury was bleeding from several different injuries and pain was written in the way he moved stiffly. Fury put a finger to his lips and turned the lights off again. He took out his phone, typing and showed it to Steve.
Ears everywhere.
"I'm sorry to have do this, but I had no place else to crash." As Fury starts typing on his phone again, Steve straightened, using his senses to scan his apartment. He couldn't hear anything other than his own breathing and Fury's labored, pain filled breathing. All he could smell was his stale apartment and Fury's blood. It didn't seem like anyone was near to hurt them but Steve kept his senses alert. Fury showed him his phone again.
SHIELD compromised.
"Who else knows about your wife?" Steve asked, playing along. Fury tapped the phone and turned it to face Steve.
You and me.
"Just…my friends," Fury said out loud as he slowly stood up. Steve's face twitched. Friends?
"Is that what we are?" Steve asked, his voice guarded. Fury didn't react but looked Steve in the eye.
"That's up to you." Steve grit his teeth, chewing on his answer. Suddenly, shots are fired through the window, decorating Steve's apartment with bullets and adding new blood to Fury's coat. Fury cried out in pain and fell to the floor. Steve ducked, whipping his head to the window. He caught a glance of the shooter but dropped to the floor next to Fury. Steve grabbed Fury and hastily dragged him into the kitchen, out of sight from the window. He looked down to assess Fury's injuries and gulps. Not good. Not good at all. Mind whirling, Steve's hands hover, trying to choose which injury to attend to first when Fury grabs him. Fury shakily opened his hand, revealing a small hard drive. Steve looked at Fury in confusion.
"Don't….trust….anyone," Fury gasped. Steve's stomach flipped, his mind finally catching up to what Fury was talking about. S.H.I.E.L.D. was compromised and Fury had just been assassinated. This was bad, really really bad. Steve had been right. Someone banging against his door brought Steve out of his spiral and he whirled around preparing for a fight as Fury lost consciousness. Steve glanced around the corner to find Kate, his neighbor, holding a gun as she walked into his apartment.
"Captain Rogers?" Kate called, eyes searching. His mind seemed to stall and he wasn't able to move out of her line of vision fast enough. Their eyes locked and she made her way towards him.
"Captain, I'm Agent 13 of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s Special Service," Kate announced. Steve's mind wasn't functioning. He didn't understand why his neighbor, who he'd just asked out on a date, was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent.
"Kate?" Steve asked. Kate rounded the corner, ignoring Steve's confused look.
"I'm assigned to protect you."
"On whose order?" Steve demanded. Kate stopped when she saw Fury. She took a deep breath and answered, "His." Kate knelt next to Fury, setting her gun down. She pressed two fingers against Fury's next and then fished around in her pocket, pulling out a radio.
"Foxtrot is down, he's unresponsive. I need EMTs," Kate stated in a shaky voice. Immediately, a man's voice responded.
"Do you have a twenty on the shooter?" Steve looked around the corner, back to the window. The shooter moved, racing across the rooftops. Finally, something clicked in Steve's brain. The shooter was getting away and it could hurt more people.
"Tell them I'm in pursuit," Steve commanded. He stepped out of his hiding place and judged the distance between his apartment and the building next door. There was a window directly opposite him. I can make that, Steve thought. Steve took a running start and crashed through his window, into the window on the opposite building. Quickly getting up, he started running, noticing this building had skylights. Perfect. He could see the shooter as he ran on the roof. Calculating in his head the speed at which the shooter was running, Steve knew two things. One, the shooter was well trained and knew what he was doing. He was dealing with a professional. Two, there was no time for doors and he was going to have to pay for some damage. Steve crashed through walls and doors, using them as stepping stools, making dents in the walls. He followed the shooter's path and saw him jump from the roof onto the next building. Steve picked up the pace and jumped through another window. He landed on his feet and with a spin, flung his shield as hard as he could at the shooter.
Time slowed as his shield spun towards the unknown assailant. Steve watched in disbelief as the man, clothed in black with the exception of his arm that shined in the moonlight, turned and caught the shield effortlessly. His shield chimed as it connected with the arm that was shining. He has a metal arm, Steve thought. But the thought was quickly swept away by the look in the man's eyes. His face was covered from his nose to his chin in some sort of face mask, but his eyes were exposed. Steve had never seen eyes so dead and devoid of feeling. And yet, something in those eyes struck a chord in Steve. They seemed…familiar.
Before his thoughts could form, the man in the mask threw Steve's shield back. Steve caught it in his gut, the force of the throw pushing him back several feet. Steve looked down at his shield in shock. He hadn't met anyone or anything that could throw his shield with that kind of force. Except with Thor. The shooter wasn't just any assassin, he was enhanced somehow.
Steve looked up and the man was gone. He ran to the edge, heart pounding. He couldn't be gone that fast, could he? But looking over the edge of the building, Steve knew the answer to that question. The man had disappeared. Evaporated like steam. Steve could hear the sirens coming closer and knew his world had flipped, again. Breathing hard, he looked out over the city, his mind muddled and scrambled with the new information. With a gnawing feeling, Steve knew that this was the beginning of a nightmare.