[2] Just A Lost Girl | Avallone the Avenger

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

"Hey, what's a young girl like you doing out here so early in the morning?" A voice asked, coming towards me. I opened my eyes and spotted the owner of the voice.
A dark young man with short, almost buzzcut, black hair. There was some facial hair on his face, and I could clearly see a few worry lines. He, judging by his age, looked around his early thirties.
"I just needed some fresh air," I replied, closing my eyes and settling back into the seat. Despite my calm outward appearance, I was calculating every move that would need to be done in case he got too close to me.
"You know," He said, sitting down on the bench next to me, "I was just doing the same thing." His sadened tone caught me off guard, and I opened my eyes.
His head was bent towards the ground and his hands held it in place. His broad shoulders were hunched over, and he looked almost sad. Before, he seemed like he was trying to comfort me, but maybe now, it's my turn.
"Avallone." I said, holding out my hand towards him. He looked up and smiled sadly. "Sam. Sam Wilson." I nodded and we shook hands. He eyed me slghtly suspiciously, even though he tried not to show it.
I was not about to give my last name away just yet, even if he had given me his, if it was his real last name. He just had that agent 'air' about him, ready for anything, and calculating every move.
"So, why are you in need of some fresh air?" I asked, looking out over the street, which was slowly gathering more cars and people. The early morning retreat was slowly waning away. I would soon have to go back to the apartment and cook breakfast.
He shrugged his shoulders, "I just have a lot on my mind, I guess. Just meet my friend's best friend, who is kind of crazy, and he has been keeping me up nearly all night every night."
I stared at him in horror. "What kind of crazy?" I asked, imagining the worst scenario. Was this man next to me being - no, I won't even think about it.
Sam laughed. "No, not like that. He just has reoccuring nightmares from his past." Suddenly, he grew grim again, and I felt a weird air settle over the conversation.
"Just like me." I whispered into the breeze. Sam lifted his eyes to meeet mine. "Mmm?" I didn't answer, but shook my head. I didn't want him, a stranger, to know about my nightmares, yet he is telling me about this man's nightmares.
"If you have problems, you should tell me. I used to work with people with PTSD and the like." He informed me, almost mechanically. It seemed like there was a hidden backstory, but I didn't bite into it.
I couldn't answer just yet, I needed time to think. "You know what, I'll give you my number, and you can call me when you want to talk. Sound like a good idea?" He asked, standing up.
"I - uh." I couldn't finish. This guy was just totally different from what I was used to. He was a gentleman like Steve, and yet not so innocent. I could see the hurt that was hidden in his eyes. Maybe his friend and I weren't the only ones having a hard time because of memories.
Sam smiled at me and handed me a piece of paper with his contact details on it. His phone number and email address, even a cute drawing of a bird of some kind. It looked like a hawk or something.
"Thanks." I mumbled, finally able to speak. He nodded, and walked away.

"Mmmm, that smells amazing." Natasha said, breathing in the smell of the french toast I was making. "Thank you," I said for the second time that morning. I could feel the paper with his details in my pocket as it knocked against my upper thigh every time I moved. Maybe I should talk to him about it, I mean, he used to work with people who had suffered a lot worse. He could help me.
"Where did you go this morning?" Natasha asked, fluffing around with the jug and setting it to boil. I shrugged my shoulders. I had been doing that a lot of late. "Just out, I needed to escape the overheated kitchen."
She nodded, and poured the hot water into three mugs. Suddenly, she started sniffing the air around me. "Uh, Nat, are you alright?" I asked, concerned. She was acting like a dog who was hot on a trail.
"That smell, it's familiar, put I can't quite pin point it. It's faint, but strong enough for me to smell it." She said, looking up and thinking. I smelled the air, but couldn't smell anything different.
For a few minutes, we frantically searched the room for what the smell could be, but I wasn't much help. I didn't even know what she was smelling.
"Sam!" She cried, jumping up and running to the door. "If the Falcon's here, that means that his S - his newest friend is here too!" Natasha hastily pulled on some clothes, as she was still in her pajamas and told me to change.
As I did, I remembered the paper in my pocket. Sam. Falcon. Hawk. Surely, they can't be connected. I shook my head. I was making too much out of nothing, but then again, it seemed like a big deal to Natasha.

I was dressed and we were hurrying towards a small cafe. It wasn't anything special, but Natasha was going like her life depended on it. Maria was also hurrying, but it was most likely because she thought that this Sam guy was in trouble.
We entered the cafe, and Natasha quickly drove us towards the corner, where a figure sat. He was wearing different clothes from this morning, but a familiar smell came to my nose. That was what Nat smelt.
It was Sam Wilson.
"Sam!" Nat saidm almost jumping up and down with glee. Wow, she had changed a lot from when I had first met her. I thought that she was a hard bitch who was never happy, but seeing her now, I know that I was wrong.
"Miss Romanoff!" He said, embracing her quickly before turning to Maria and I. "Avallone, good to see you again. And it's nice to meet you - Maria, thank you." He said, courteouslyl. (Is that even a word?)
He invited us to sit down, and we did.
"Is Steve with you?" Natasha asked, getting straight down to business. I looked from Nat to Sam, wondering if it was actually - "No, Rogers is actully in Italy at the moment looking for Bucky."
I started choking on the air I just breathed in. "Avallone! Oh, I forgot to tell you. Sam is friends with Steve." Natasha said, smiling and hitting my back at the same time.
"Avallone knows Steve? Is this the girl he talks so much about? I didn't actually think that I would get to meet her." He said, now smiling at me and looking at me in a different light.
I finally stopped choking and managed to say a few words. "Uh, Sam, can we talk now?"

"Wow, that's a lot to take in. My first question would have to be: have you seen this mysterious woman since going to Harrison's place?" Sam asked me as we reclined in two chairs in a resturant.
He had taken me out to dinner, in a friednly way, and we discussed my 'problem' the whole time. I had told him my whole backstory, only leaving out the parts about Loki and Steve. My personal love life was not going to get invovled in this.
"No." I replied. So far, I hadn't talked much, except blabbing my whole story. I liked keeping to the monosyllables. He nodded and leaned forward in his chair.
"Look, Avallone, your life has been stressful, and full of hard times, but the only thing I can do is say that you need to just move on and forget. Leave the past behind you, and look to the future. I know it sounds cheesy, but it's what will help the most."
I nodded and smiled at him. His advice was great, but how could I, when nightmares of my past haunted me every night, and when certain images can never be erased from my brain.
How can I?