Soldier Boy

9

*Inessa*

"What can I do for you?" I watch as his eyes roam my apartment, landing on the wall painted behind me.

"What is that?" He asks.

"A wall." I smirk. He gives me a no shit look. "It's for practice." I stand, walking over the the trunk full of knives, picking one up, feeling the blade in my hand. I chuck it at the wall, and like always, it lands in the middle. Before I can step my way over to retrieve it, air passes my ear, and I watch a small knife hitting the center right next to mine. I turn over my shoulder, seeing James standing, a smug look on his face.

"I approve." He nods. "So when did you decide to do this?"

"This morning." I turn back around, reaching and plucking the knives out the wall.

"Ah." He walks around the room, though there's nothing much to look at.

For the first time I let myself take the sight of him in, and I won't lie, he was pretty. But he wasn't just a typical pretty, his face and his eyes held depth and character. And he looked healthy, clearly in shape. Very good shape. Wide shoulders, strong arms and legs. He definitely would have captured my mothers attention. It was a shame that I promised myself I wouldn't be with anyone ever again, because he was one of those men that we could all stare at forever.

He holds up a picture frame, that was placed at the end of my desk, looking closely at it before turning back to me. "This you?" He points to it, holding the last picture of my parents I had.

Tony was standing behind our mother, hands gently placed on her shoulders. I was sitting on the floor in front of my father, grinning like a monkey. I remember that day. A good day.

"That was our last family photo." I smile, walking over, retrieving it from his hands and into my own. My finger traces over my parents faces, smiling down at them. My eyes flick to the sight of Tony, making me giggle to see him so young again. "I guess Tony's always been scrawny." James chuckles, spinning around to keep searching for whatever it was. The couch stands between us, "So what did you want to talk about?"

"I uh.." He turns with a guilty look on his face. "This morning, I woke up to strange dream."

"Oh?" I sit on the arm of the couch, intrigued that he was sharing something personal for once. "Pray tell." I smile, trying to lighten the mood. His eyes drop to the floor, rubbing his hand over his face. He looked sad, almost like it was hurting him to speak. "James, it's alright."

"I.. I think I saw a memory."

"Alright?" I giggle. "A good one?" I ask.

"I think it was yours." He looks back at me, guilt behind his eyes. My face drops, remembering the invisible string tied between our minds, and remembering what happened earlier. Fuck. Deep down I knew this would happen, I was just too scared to face it. I didn't want anyone to see what Hydra put me through, how it changed me. And of course, before I could stop myself, my blood starts to boil.

"I don't want to talk about this." I stomp away from James, trying my best to stay calm. Don't blame him. I was the idiot that got him into this mess. If I wasn't stupid and didn't fall into a giant hole, he wouldn't be burdened. It's all my fault.

"I don't really want to either, but-"

"No buts. Buts are stupid. " Waving my hands in the air, I wander into the kitchen, him following close behind.

"Just hold on a second." He sighs, standing next to the counter.

I didn't want to talk. At first, I thought he wanted to talk about the situation between us, which was partly true, but I didn't want to sit and have a therapy session about what's happened in the past. I could feel the heat from frustration rise under my skin.

"Listen." I turn around, crossing my arms. "I'm sorry your caught up in this. Trust me, its most certainly a burden on both of us. And I'm sorry that you had to see whatever you did. But I'm not going to sit here, talk about feelings, cry my eyes out to you. I've already done that with enough people." I watch as his jaw slightly clenches, hands balling into fists.

"I'm not asking you to do that." His voice has a sharp edge, and where it would have made some scared, I wasn't. "All I want to do is help."

"Well, I don't want your help." I grit my teeth. This was none of his business. "As much as I would love to end this thing between us, I-"

"You can't help that, I know." His voice held a tone, just frustrating me more. What's with him? Why couldn't he just ignored what he saw. It wasn't his place to bring it up.

"Then why are you bringing this up? Whatever you see or hear, just-" I shake my head.

"What? Ignore it?" His voice raises. I never fully understood what it was when people raised there voice at me. When Tony and I got into arguments I was calm and collected up until he started yelling. Maybe it was because I felt belittled, or scolded like a child. I thought I would grow out of it, but obviously not.

"Yes!" I snap. That obviously pissed him off well enough for his whole demeanor to shift. Oops.

"I've just now gotten over having my own nightmares. I don't need yours keeping me up at night!" His voice booms, damn near shaking the walls.

"So you think I did all of this intentionally?" I let my arms drop, feeling that tingle coming back. "You think I wanted to have this mind meld thing, to keep you from sleeping? The last fucking thing I want is to keep hurting people." His eyes flick to my hands, but I was fired up. "It's not your job to play therapist. It's not your place to bring this up. I'm not talking about it, so just let it go!"

A glass sitting on the counter explodes, shattering into a million pieces, scaring us both. Did I do that?

"Inessa." The change in his voice makes me finally blink, looking back at him. His eyes were soft, and his face relaxed. "I'm sorry. You were right, it isn't my place." He steps around the counter, standing a few feet in front of me. "But, I know what it feels like." He takes a half step closer. "To be a prisoner in your own mind." Another half step. "It's never easy." Another. "All I want is make sure your okay. I went through everything on my own. Steve tried to help, but getting help from someone who doesn't know what it's like, feels pointless." He stands merely half a foot away from me, and even from this distance I can feel heat radiating off him. Some where in the back of my mind felt comfort from his words. His hand raises, wrapping his fingers gently around my arm, and it feels like electricity explodes in my body.

"Thank you." I swallow the lump in my throat. "Thank you for worrying, but I'm fine." Liar. His hand slides off my arm, and he takes a step back.

"Okay." His lips form a line as he nods. He looked hurt. He turns to leave, pausing before reaching the door. "And this isn't a burden." His chin tilts in my direction, but his eyes don't meet mine. "At least not to me." Then he leaves.

The room becomes empty, silence becoming my only company once again.