Until I Found You

two

~ STEVE ~

I really want to punch someone right now.

Not just any someone. I want to punch a very specific someone, but I can't. Punching this particular someone, would cause more problems than it would fix. I would settle for punching something instead, the wall of this lobby maybe, or even one of the ridiculous feather throw pillows on the waiting chairs. Given the floor-to-ceiling glass windows at the front of entrance and the nosey people still staring inside, this would also create more problems than it would fix.

In the end, all I can do is slam my finger into the elevator button marked 'PH' and wait for the doors to close. It's extremely unsatisfying which just makes me even angrier.

"Hold the doors."

I'm extremely tempted to pretend I didn't hear the request, but in the end I know it will only delay the inevitable.

I stick my hand out into the closing doors causing them to slide back open. Tony Stark is waiting for me on the other side. He's wearing that partially disinterested and partially annoyed look that's become all too familiar.

He walks into the elevator and stands next to me, both of us facing the front. Neither of us says anything as the lift begins to rise. We stand there in silence until we've passed the twenty-fifth floor, which is apparently Tony's limit for his ability to not verbalize every unnecessary, inappropriate, and often sadistic thought.

"Do you think being frozen in that ice for so long affected your basic cognitive function?"

He turns to stare at me blankly. I exhale, letting my head fall.

"It would explain a lot." He continues. "Maybe I should have you looked at. Bruce might be available, although he's pretty expensive. He's not exactly easy on the insurance if you know what I mean."

I stare fixatedly at the point where the elevator doors meet the floor.

"I'd pay to get looked at by any doctor you want if it meant I never had to talk to press again." I reply as the lift slows to a stop and the doors slide open.

Stark Tower isn't the home I'd ever imagined for myself. I am and have always been, conditioned to live in the thirties. All of the fancy gadgets, the new tech... it didn't exactly feel welcoming or comfortable. Instead, it emphasized the fact that I was somewhere I didn't belong.

The truth is, I'm a product of a different generation and have become a lot like a fish stuck on dry land. It's not just that I'm out of my element, dragged away from the environment I was built to live in. It's the absence of any sort of control over my own life that mimics the lack of water meant to supply oxygen to my lungs. Each breath no longer capable of being steady, but a desperate reach for any semblance of command over my own decisions and a push away from the unpredictable that landed me in this situation in the first place.

My oxygen, my biggest breath of fresh air that has kept me going, is the freinds I have here. If it wasn't for them, I'm not sure how I would have been able to adjust to living in such a different decade. My job also keeps me grounded, gives me a sense of purpose. Being needed for a fight was not something new. Having a good cause, protecting innocent people, being a soldier first... when I look at it that way, it feels like not as much has changed, even if the food is much different and modern electricity has completely altered the way I perform daily human activities.