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"Mike stopped by my house, he's coming over," y/n said, pulling her legs up close to her chest. Steve stopped scrolling through the channels so he could settle his attention onto her.
"Are you okay with that? I can send him away if you're not ready to see anyone," Steve said.
"No, I have to tell him. I don't want to hide it from him anymore. Not Mike," She shook her head. Steve nodded understandingly, allowing her a minute as he went to the kitchen to make coffee. When a knock came to the door, Steve gave her a look and put his hand on her shoulder.
"I'll give you two a minute but If you need me, I'm just in the other room. Please don't do it on my couch," he said. She shoved him away with a grimace.
"Gross," she laughed. She watched Steve walk out of the room, waiting for the click of his bedroom door, before she opened the front.
"What the hell," Mikes hands immediately cupped her face, his thumb running over the fading bruise beneath her eye.
"Come inside," she placed her hands on his wrists and pulled him away from the door so that she could shut it. She pulled him over to the couch, his hands falling from her cheeks.
"Who the fuck did that to you?" Mike asked, his jaw clenched. She brought her hand up to the side of his neck and ran her thumb along his tense jaw.
"My dad did," she told. "He got drunk again, got mad again, and he hit me."
"Why didn't you call me? I would have-"
"You would have done something stupid like hit him, then the cops would have been called and I'd probably be with child services right now," she cut him off, turning her body towards him. "And I, I didn't want you looking at me like I was weak. Kind of like you're looking at me now," she tilted her head down to stare at her lap.
"I do not think you're weak," Mike leaned his head down to try and catch her eyes. "Are you kidding? You are the strongest person I know, babe," he reached out and gently took her hands in his. "I'll do whatever you want me to do, fight for you, lay low, bank robbery, whatever you want, I just need to know that you're okay. Always."
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Don't be sorry," he moved closer and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her down into his chest. "Don't ever be sorry for this." Silence washed over them for a while, Y/n's eyes falling shut with a new sense of relief that felt like a breath of warm, fresh air. She pressed her nose against the collar of Mike's shirt, breathing in the lavender scented detergent his mom has been using since he was five. His hands dipped under her shirt, fingers running gently up and down her back, unknowingly touching healing bruises.
"Baby," his voice cut through the silence as a gentle whisper. She didn't move her head from his shoulder as she hummed. "Are you okay? Like really okay? Because if you have even the slightest idea of.... if you think about it even once, for even a second, I want you to call me. No matter where I am, what I'm doing, or what time it is, I will be there. Okay?" She looked up slowly, her teeth clenching together.
"I'll call you, I promise, but I'm okay, Mike. I'm not going to go there again," she promised. He brought his hand up to her face, gently cupping the side of her jaw. He leaned into her and pressed a kiss to her lips, holding her as close as possible.
