Born Out of Blood

Chapter Eight

I felt shiny and new as I closed the door to my new room. Without a phone or any clocks, I wasn't entirely sure of the time and had rushed to get ready, only momentarily taking in the sleek and modern design of my new room before showering and dressing in clothes that were laid on the bed.

I tried my best not to get too caught up in the fact that they weren't on the bed before I entered the bathroom neither was the array of cosmetics on the dresser.

I took the hint and tried my best attempt to make myself look presentable but not like an expensive hooker with the black heels and dress I'd been provided. When I was finished I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and wondered how exactly I would be helping out in all of this and why I would have to be making a good impression. Who was I dressing up for other than the cameras?

Did I have to talk, answer questions about who I was, and how I knew Steve? Shit. I tried to imagine myself standing up there next to him, what would we look like? I sure as hell wasn't Peggy Carter, where she had been alluring and confident and intelligent and sophisticated I was just, normal, maybe kind of pretty and I had great hair but I'd never amounted to anything beyond being a lab rat for the Compound.

Even now my honey-browned hair was limp and the dark circles under my eyes still bled through my makeup. I tried to tell myself it didn't matter, I wasn't here to look pretty or be fussed over. This was about Steve Rogers's reintroduction to the world, I was just collateral to make sure the public believed whatever story was being sold to them.

As I faced the hallway I couldn't help but feel drawn to the door diagonal to mine. Had it been Steve behind that door watching Sam and me, interested in what the new Captain America had to say to me, warn me about? Or was it someone else, another hero curious about who I was, what I was doing here? For lack of better judgement I inched toward the door, my steps silent on the carpeted floor, my heart in my throat as I reached out a shaking hand to turn the door handle and to my horror, the door was unlocked as I pushed it open.

My curiosity manifested into fear as I heard a voice, pausing in the doorway and awaiting someone to come and bark at me about privacy but no one did and I found myself pushing the door forward just enough to pick up the words, smooth, loud music floated toward me,

'- oh mercy, mercy me. Oh, things ain't what they used to be.'

It was Marvin Gaye, I knew that song, I'd been named after that fucking song. My fear only grew and I slammed the door shut, recoiling from the room like it was cursed and fleeing down the hall and stairs like someone was coming for me.

When I reached the landing to the common floor I took a moment to catch my shuddered breath, grasping onto the railing like I might fall straight through the earth. I could feel the tremor of fear through my body as I stood there my eyes moving over the unoccupied space of the common room, again awaiting an attack, waiting for something bad to happen, waiting for Steve to appear.

Was any of this real? What I had just heard, that song felt personal, like whoever was in that room knew what it meant and that I didn't have the courage to face them and find out the truth. Was I being taunted, was it Steve? I shook the thought from my head but it stuck, so far every single interaction I had had with him felt intentional, almost like he was acting, wanting to keep me guessing.

And standing there in that room, alone, catching sight of my hands white-knuckled on the railing made the tears I was fighting back surface, my vision blurring. I was accelerating toward something out of my control, I felt unsafe, the world before me wasn't certain anymore and I realised I had completely misjudged my situation and with Ryan gone and Val claiming there was no record of me ever existing - I began to wonder if this is what Steve wanted.