—-

Claire gave Steve the remote and all subsequent channel control. He was at first apprehensive, being unable to recognize any of the programs, but eventually calmed after finding a now-retro 90s station. Claire smiled, and the two silently relived bygone days until falling asleep.

Steve woke up at 9:30AM, of which he hoped was the same day. Sleep-addled eyes spied Claire near the doorway speaking with someone he didn't know. He made a vague note that his arms were once again restrained.

"He needs to be told about things," the monotone voice supplied.

A belligerent Claire retorted, "I don't think he's ready. Last night, he didn't even want to talk about how long it's—"

"It doesn't matter what he wants," the other voice, a woman he thought, interrupted. "Not bringing it up is impossible."

"I just meant more time would be ideal," her tone was biting. "None of this can be easy."

Steve coughed. Being able to hear them so obviously talk about him made him uncomfortable.

"Steve!" Claire reacted. She was slightly embarrassed that he had been listening.

The other person came to Claire's side, and he could see that she was a tall, tan woman hidden beneath a shapeless white lab coat. A doctor, he supposed. He noted that her black hair was in a meticulous bun, her face adorned with frameless glasses. He gulped as only from the note of her features did he realize that he hadn't properly observed Claire yet.

Sure, he had looked at her, stared at her even, but it was always through a fog of memories: what he was expecting to see. To acknowledge any changes to her, he would first have to acknowledge that time had lapsed.

He bit his lip. Like she said, I have to deal with this some time… He wanted to put it off forever.

"What things do I need to be told?" Steve asked in nearly a whisper.

The doctor stepped forward. "About your condition," she offered in a higher tone. "Would you like to speak about this now?"

Steve nodded. If it had to be brought up, the sooner the better.

The doctor returned the action, then facing Claire silently.

"What?" Claire accused, feeling suddenly alienated. Then she understood the hint, and her face shifted to that of pain. She turned to Steve, evening her tone. "You want me to leave?"

Steve had to think about it. Claire was both deeply comforting and horribly frightening. Facing her meant having a tether to the past, but also coming to terms that things could never be the same again. He knew that, he repeatedly reassured himself, but he also knew that he had been hiding from the entire truth ever since what he assumed to be his rescue. It was time to face it, but perhaps not with Claire. Not yet.

He ran away from her gaze. "Sorry," was his only answer.

The room fell into silence for ten long seconds, with Claire fighting past her feelings of betrayal. "Okay," she said, trying to smile. "I'll go get us some breakfast in the meantime." She was searching for any distraction possible. "Would you like anything in particular?" Her strained question hung.

Steve did feel bad that he was no doubt hurting her, and to ask anything extra of her sat poorly with his conscience, but… "A breakfast muffin with sausage and bacon?" He asked, peeking at her through the corner of his eyes, hopefulness coloring his tone.

Claire genuinely smiled at his request. It was so telling. "You got it," she winked and turned to leave.

"Oh, Claire?" Steve called.

Claire stopped and twisted her torso around to catch a glimpse. "Yeah?"

"Can I have a doughnut too?"

She sighed playfully. "Of course. I'll bring you a whole feast," she turned again.

"Claire?" Steve called again, quieter now.

She smiled to herself, turning to face his new request. "Yes?"

"Thanks," Steve hesitantly met her eyes, but then shyly looked away.

Claire had to quickly turn away from what was too adorable of an action. "Uh, don't worry about it!" She quickly added and practically leapt out of the room.

Steve will let me in when he's ready, she reassured herself, newly positive from his words. I'll be ready.