I was going to post this chapter a few days later, but a good friend of mine has inspired me to post earlier. This one's for you, Cass!
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I see this life like a swinging vine
Swing my heart across line
In my face is flashing signs
Seek it out and ye shall find
It was a beautiful spring day, I had to admit. The weather had been so crazy the past few weeks; one day it was freezing, the next it was hot. It made me think the world was going to escalate into the movie The Day After Tomorrow. I made a mental note to keep a lookout for a giant storm cell and a nearby library with a fireplace just in case.
Class had just gotten over with and I was resting up from this morning's battle scars from training. I swear, if I gained anymore bruises, my natural skin color was going to be purple. A week had passed and the soreness from the initial beginning was starting to wear off, but Steve was consistent in training. Every morning at four we would get up, do warm ups, focus on boxing moves and get back just in time for me to take a shower and get to class. It was draining. I hoped graduation came around soon or else I could see my A's slipping away from pure exhaustion.
"Ms. Barton?" The voice was unfamiliar, and very soft. I whipped around and came face-to-face with a guy in my history class. I recognized him easily because he always wore the same black Converse and black jacket.
"Yes, ummm..." I had never gotten his name. He was always quiet, so the teacher never called on him for questions.
"Oh, I'm sorry." He grinned at his own foolishness, revealing his perfect, pearly-white teeth. "I'm Derek, Derek Foster." He awkwardly stuck out his hand and I shook it. It felt like he had one of those boneless arms like the one you see in Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets. Yeah, I know. Gross, right?
"Anyways, I was wondering if you wanted to study for Dr. Carlyle's history class together. He can be pretty rough on tests, as you probably know."
Indeed, Dr. Carlyle was probably the hardest professor I had had at NYU. He seemed insatiable on his essay questions. I bet he hated himself when he had to give a student an 'A' on a test. I felt giddy with joy at the thought of him grading my last test. That must have been torture for him.
But as much as I didn't mind having a study group for a test, I had just gotten my uncle to let me have training lessons despite his lack of enthusiasm. Seeing me with a strange guy might send him off the deep end.
"Thanks, but I'm really busy. I don't have much time for study groups." I tried to be nice to soften the blow.
He shifted awkwardly in his Converse.
"Then I'll meet you in Carlyle's class on Friday then?"
I gave him a small nod before he went off in another direction, right before Steve rode up on his Harley. He looked from me to Derek's retreating form with suspicion.
"Who's that?"
I got on the bike behind him and wrapped my arms around him.
"Just a guy from my class."
I could tell that he was less that pleased with my answer. However, he kept his mouth shut and drove back home to Stark Tower. I didn't want to scare him about some new guy approaching me. After the HYDRA scare, anyone could initiate a defensive response that involved guns, knives, a mythical hammer, an Iron Man suit, a super-soldier and an enormous green-rage monster. That was not the sort of thing I wanted to do to scare off some poor student.
The second he killed the motor, Steve started to give me a harrowing number of questions.
"Does this boy have a name?"
"Do we have to play 20 Questions?" I asked wearily.
"Hannah, I'm only looking out for you. I don't want you in danger."
I gave in with a sigh.
"His name's Derek Foster. He invited me out for coffee-study night." His frown drooped further down his face.
"I turned him down. Don't worry about it." But my assurances were useless.
"I've got to tell your uncle."
"Steve, he's just some harmless kid from school."
"Hannah, anyone who takes an interest in you is automatically on our watch list."
"Steve, just drop it, okay?"
Why did he have to act this way? He knew I had good judgment. I had been dateless for four years, for pity's sake! Wasn't that enough?
I drew my fingers from the sides of my head to the bridge of my nose, grasping it in frustration. I was surprised when I felt his arm wrapped around me.
"I'll brew us some tea."
We quietly made our way up to my floor, the only sound coming from JARVIS who greeted us as we walked onto the elevator. I leaned against my friend. I was so angry and frustrated. I had tried constantly to push away my uncle and his lack of confidence in me to take care of myself, but now Steve was doing it and I couldn't stand it.
When the elevator doors opened, I was shocked when it opened to Steve's floor. He walked in and made his way to the counter while I stood there and looked around. In all the years I'd been here, I'd never once been on Steve's floor.
His room was different than the other floors in the Tower. What usually would have been grey, modern flooring had been converted into laminate wooden floors. The big, open view of New York City was still the same, but the rest was unusually homey. A blue couch with red and white pillows were situated in the room, a coffee table with an old records player placed in front of it. I glanced at hit curiously. It had been ages since I'd seen a record as old as this. Harry James and His Orchestra, it read.
I moved from there to the wall, entranced by the old photos that hung there. I glanced fleetingly at a woman's photo. It was black and white, just like it would have looked like in a picture from the 1940's. Her eyes were soft, but there was a certain fire in them that I couldn't describe. Determination? Her hair was wavy and, from the picture, was either brown or a deep red. She was quite beautiful. I wonder who she was that Steve would have her picture hanging there.
One picture in particular caught my eye. It was a watercolor painting. An array of colors danced across the paper, forming a woman in a blue dress and red shoes dancing with a man with blonde hair and a black suit. I could almost feel the motion between the two as they danced across the room painted in a light shade of purple.
"It's my favorite." Steve's voice brought me out of the picture's enchantment. When I looked at him, he was still staring at it, almost as if it were a photograph, a memory from long ago.
"Steve?" He broke away from the picture and looked at me.
"Sorry. Sometimes I get distracted." He walked over towards the couch and sat down, and I followed suit. Two cups were placed in front of us on the coffee table.
"Steve, I..." He shushed me.
"I have to tell your uncle."
"But Steve..." Again, he interrupted me.
"I promise, it's not so that you can't have a life. It's so you can live your life."
Rather than be shushed again, I allowed him ample time to continue.
"Hannah, I can't imagine my life without you." He grasped my hand then, looking at me with a gaze filled with an indescribable sea of emotion. "Please, don't make me lose you too."
"Steve, I know about Bucky." He sucked in a breath. He concealed his pain most of the time, but there were moments when you could look at him and tell that some of his battle scars weren't so well hidden.
"It isn't just about Bucky." He replied. "It's about so much more than that."
I couldn't understand him then. And I knew I never would. Bucky was his best friend that had supposedly died on his watch, presumed dead for seventy years until reemerging as a tool for HYDRA. Steve almost died saving the man from himself. And every time someone mentioned Bucky's name, he was completely lost. I couldn't imagine the pain that had been placed in his heart from HYDRA's crimes. They were not just evil, but had struck something personal deep down inside his soul. And I suppose the danger at losing another friend made him more determined to keep another precious possession close.
"I understand you want to keep me safe. I know that all of you do. And I have promised dozens upon dozens of times to keep myself out of trouble. And this training is supposed to make all of you feel more at ease."
"I know it is." He stared at the table that had a small vase of yellow flowers stuck in them. "But it doesn't mean I'll ever stop worrying."
I knew I had to take this reality with grace. I worried about them when they went on missions, so I knew the feeling. But that didn't deter me from trying to prove to them that I could take care of myself. It never would.
"I worry about you too, you know. It doesn't matter how big of a super-soldier you are. You'll always be the best friend I worry about."
I never told him when he and Aunt Nat came back from the Triskelion about how sick to my stomach I had felt when I saw one of the Helicarriers crashing into the large S.H.I.E.L.D. building. I didn't care if the were Avengers or the most powerful beings on the planet. They were still all I had. Losing them would be like losing a part of myself.
His mouth opened to say something, but then closed it in silent rebuke. The levity of the subject was staring to weigh him and it would only get worse if we tried to press on. I tried to switch the topic to a lighter topic instead.
"Do you still want to tell my uncle about Derek?"
He contemplated for a few seconds before looking up at me.
"I think I'll let this one slide. I trust you."
I allowed a small smile slip onto my face and squeezed his hand gently.
"Thank you, Steve."
"Besides, that kid couldn't weight what, ninety pounds? I could easily throw him across the school yard."
"Steve!" I smacked his shoulder playfully and the room was filled with laughter, leaving the gloomy subject that had brought us here far behind us.
Bahaha! And the funny part is, Cap really could throw Derek across the school yard. When I think about that, it sends me back to the movie Matilda. Has anyone ever watched that? If you haven't, you should! Reviews are appreciated, please!