Unhinged

Chapter Thirteen

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," You sobbed pitifully as you clutched the toilet bowl, praying you were done puking your guts out, "Shit, I'm so fucking sorry."

"Sweetheart, why're you apologizing?"

You froze, still so out of it that you didn't even register someone holding your hair back and rubbing your back and shoulders soothingly until they spoke up, and you slowly trailed your eyes over to the side until you met blue eyes swimming with concern looking back at you.

"Fuck, you're home – or back?" You corrected quickly, missing his soft smile as you turned back to flush the toilet, and then you closed the lid, slowly getting up with his help.

He silently handed you a glass of water and you took it gratefully, downing the entire thing in seconds. You still felt like utter shit, and you wished with everything you had that he wasn't seeing you like this.

"Yeah, I looked for you at the bar and then your apartment last night, but you weren't there."

He was speaking softly, still rubbing your back, and you squinted your heavy eyes, purposefully ignoring your reflection in the mirror.

"You can go back to yours," You told him quietly, "I'm fine. Promise."

"Do you...want me to go?"

"I don't know what I want," You sighed, smiling near the end because wow, that sounded deep, and then you shrugged, "I'm just so confused."

"I think you've had enough time to think it over," He wasn't smiling, no, he looked serious, and you wanted to smooth out the lines between his eyebrows, but you just waited patiently, "So, if you still don't know what to think about us...fine. I'll go."

"That's just it!" You laughed humorlessly and he watched as you moved to wash your hands before going to brush your teeth, "You're the reason I'm messed up!"

"What I do is complicated, I told you, but I can't help when it takes me away from here for chunks at a time – I'm sorry. I'm sorry if you thought...I'm sorry if I hurt you. That's the last thing I want."

You stopped brushing as he got all that out and you listened as focused as you could while you were still drowsy.

"I love what you do – sure, it worries the hell out of me, and I always want to ask about it, but I'd never...it's just like...I'm sorry," You interrupted yourself because you really needed to figure a way to get this out but, "Can you give me a moment? It's bad enough you've had to see all that," You gestured vaguely towards the toilet, "I don't need to add spitting to the list."

"Yeah, I've picked up that spitting isn't really your thing." He blurted with a cheeky smirk before he left, and you couldn't help but to laugh despite everything.

You finished up in the bathroom, deciding to take a quick shower since you felt clammy and you knew he'd give you the time, knowing you needed a second to gather your thoughts, so you came out in one of his shirts that he had left and a pair of sweats you had thrown in there.

You wanted him. You did. You could see a future with him and that was so exciting, but you were so damn scared. You were confused, you just didn't want to admit that you were afraid of losing yourself like you had done with Dean. But he wasn't Dean. You knew that. It was just hard to force yourself to jump into something when you've only had a terrible experience in this area. He really did a number on you.

"Sam said," You started when you came out, the super soldier already turning to face you, "That Wakanda lost some guy – did he mean Zemo? Is he on the run again?"

"He's back," He assured, and you let out a breath of relief, playing with the loose material of his shirt in your hands since it was much larger than your own, "That only took about a week – it was just a misunderstanding."