Monster

Seventeen

The next morning, Steve and I had coffee together in the kitchen. We hadn't spoken since the evening before, and my nightmare-free sleep kept us apart for the rest of the night. I woke up to find that he'd slept on the couch and was already showered and getting the coffee started by the time I wandered down. We served ourselves, and I stood against the counter while he sat at the table.

"I forgot to tell you that I have something for you," he said, digging into his pocket for his wallet. He took out a piece of paper and slid it across the table in my direction. I stepped forward and lifted the check.

"I can't take this," I said, setting it back on the table.

"Why not? I agreed to make up the difference."

"Because I don't want it."

"How are you going to pay your bills?"

"I'll find a way." I turned and dumped the rest of my coffee in the sink. If the diner was good for anything, it was that I got free coffee all day.

"Why?" he asked as I reached for my phone and slid it into my pocket.

"I'm not doing this for you anymore. Or for money."

"You're doing it for him."

I left without another word and went to start my shift at the diner.

The morning was uneventful. The breakfast shift was my favorite to work because most of the customers were quiet. Most of them came for coffee and simple meals and didn't fuss much. The only issues came from bright-eyed children or picky elders. It was the lunch and dinner shifts I couldn't stand, but thankfully, I wasn't on the dinner shift. However, lunch was the favorite time of day for those damned milkshakes, and it was challenging to find a moment to sit down.

I was in the middle of refilling some salt and pepper containers when Marion alerted me to another visit. Marion found me at a back table and groaned as she sat in the chair.

"Your hot friend is back," she said.

"Wilson?" I asked. She shrugged.

"You never told me his name. But he wanted to talk and asked if you could make him a peanut butter cup shake." I groaned this time, and she smiled.

"I'm just kidding. He asked for a Coke. You want me to get it?"

"Yeah, I'd appreciate it. And could you bring him some fries? He likes them even though he doesn't ask." I stood and took the bottles to refill.

"You ever going to tell me his name, or is it just Wilson?"

"Sam," I said. Marion nodded and glanced over my shoulder to where Sam was leaning against the bar, poking at a jukebox selector.

"He's cute. Is he the occasional guy friend?"

"No. Different guy."

"Good. So he's single?"

I didn't answer. I moved past and went to tell my manager I was taking a break. When I returned from the kitchen, soda in hand, Sam was waiting for me in the back booth with his arm stretched out over the seat. I set the drink down on the table and took my place before him. I was so grateful for the chance to be off my feet that I could have hugged him.

"What's up?" I asked. He took his time pulling the straw out of the wrapper.

"Haven't talked to you in a while. So figured it was a good time to check in and see how you're doing," he explained.

"What's there to talk about? Doesn't Steve keep you updated? Or is there more I need to know?" He stuck the straw into his drink and finally looked at me.

"I didn't come here on behalf of Steve. I came for you. To apologize." I shook my head in confusion.

"For what?"

"For what I said about Barnes the last time I was here."

"I don't really remember what you said."

"I deal with this kind of stuff a lot, and I should have put it together when we met. You were right about Barnes. Or at least, I think you're right for wanting to help him—both of you. Being alone makes it worse, and he's making progress because he's not alone. But you—you're still alone. And I'd like to change that."

"What do you mean?" He slid over a business card. I reached out to take it.

"I'm a coach of sorts," he explained. "For soldiers. People like you." I nodded slowly.

"Did you read my files?" He smiled.

"Didn't have to. I can see it. Not to mention, Steve might have said a few things that tipped me off."

"Right. Did he tell you I was lonely?"

"More than that."

"I think I'm alright. Considering. I did have a therapist. But, of course, she turned out to be working with Hydra, so...."

"That's not what this is about, though. I'm not trying to preach therapy to you. I just want you to know that you're not alone. And there are people just like you who'd love to talk. You don't even have to talk about what you've been through. Sometimes just having someone who understands is enough."

"How did you do it? How did you come back home and—go back to being normal?" He looked around to make sure no one was listening.

"I wish I could say it was easy. Or that I went back to normal, but I'd be lying. I know what it feels like when you think there's an emptiness inside you. I know you froze, and you got shot. I know you think you couldn't save someone. But I also know what you did when someone's life was on the line."

"There were plenty of lives on the line when I froze." My voice caught, and I pinched my mouth shut. He was patient and shook his head slowly.

"You know that's not true," he said. "You beat yourself up over it, and you tell yourself lies to feed your guilt. Those kids—I wish I could say that there was some magical solution that could have saved them. But there wasn't. You were one person. And they didn't die because one person froze. The man who shot you—if you'd shot first—would it really have made a difference? There were more of them than there was of you. You did what you had to do when it mattered most. You put your life on the line to save your Colonel. The problem isn't that you freeze. It's that you value other lives more than your own, and you got caught in a situation where you couldn't save everybody."

I turned away and wiped my eye. He was looking, but I hoped he hadn't noticed. But it was his job to see when people weren't right or when they couldn't get their lives back.

Luckily, Marion decided that was the perfect time to bring the fries. She came up to the table smiling and set the basket down between us.

"Is there anything else I can get you, hon?" she asked, putting a gentle hand on Sam's shoulder. He smiled back and shook his head.

"I'm great. Thank you." She looked at me, and even though she was smiling, there was still a question in her eyes.

"What about you?" she asked, and I didn't think she was asking if I wanted something. She wanted to know if I needed help. I shook my head.

"No, I'm fine," I assured her.

"Let me know if you need anything. At all."

"I will." She walked off, and Sam waited for her to leave, which gave me enough time to regain composure.

"Look," he said, reaching for a fry. "I know what it's like to come home and feel like you've left a piece of yourself on the battlefield. No matter what happens, and no matter how much you might have hated it, that part of you always stays where you left it. That's why I helped Steve when he asked me. It made me feel like I had a purpose again. That's why Steve keeps doing what he's doing."

"I don't want to go back to that life. I don't ever want to watch someone die again," I argued.

"Neither do I, and that's why I did it. To stop people from dying." I looked away, and Sam shrugged. "So you can't pull a trigger. That's fine. Agent Barton doesn't use a gun. Most of the time." He munched on some fries as I thought about this. "Maybe your pink knife is your bow and arrow. Pink sparkle knife is your Project Falcon." I laughed and rubbed my eyes.

"I just want to be normal, Sam." He nodded slowly.

"That's fine too, but that isn't an option for all of us. Some of us thrive on it, you know. Me, Steve, Natasha. Maybe normalcy isn't in the cards for Barnes, either. Maybe he's just hoping to find a healthy medium. We just gotta make him switch sides."

"He doesn't need to take orders from anyone anymore. He needs to be able to choose which side he wants. Even if it's not ours."

"You know how many orders we broke when we took down those helicarriers? How many orders do you think Steve and his Avenger pals broke when they went up against those aliens in New York? Barnes doesn't need orders, I agree. But he is a soldier. By choice. If he wants to live his life in a warm little house eating pizza with cute girls, more power to him. I encourage that. All I'm saying is that it might not be an option for him. It might not even be what he wants." I considered his words for a long moment.

"You're right, I suppose," I reluctantly agreed. "Some of us just aren't meant for a boringly average life. Maybe I just shouldn't have gotten involved."

"I don't think that's true either," he said, pointing a fry at me. "You took the job because you were looking for something. What was it? It wasn't just a paycheck. I know that much. You're overqualified for most jobs. Including this one. It was something else. And whatever we're doing—it's working. Barnes chose you for a reason. I know he's got a little thing for you." He smiled. "But that doesn't mean it's not right. Maybe you need each other."

"It doesn't feel right."

"Why not?"

"Look at everything he's been through. I'm not well off either. It would be a disaster."

"Who said? Look. I'm not saying you should be his girlfriend." He laughed again. "All I'm saying is that he feels safe with you, and you seem to want to help him. I know you turned down Steve's check. So you're clearly in it for something else. I don't think it's because you have a thing for the guy. But you're getting something from this mission. Maybe he's helping you as much as you're helping him."

"I just—don't want those kinds of feelings to get in the way of his progress."

"I don't think it's getting in the way. It's not like he's made a pass at you. But maybe those feelings are fueling his progress." I groaned loudly. There was no arguing with him, and I was too exhausted to come up with another excuse. I lifted the business card again, deciding to end the conversation.

"So when do you have your meetings?" I asked.

"On the back," he replied.

"I'll try to swing by when I get the chance."

"I hope you do."

"I have to get back to work, though. This is the only job I have now." He nodded again.

"I'll see you." I stood up and turned back around.

"I'll cover it—my tab. You were right. It's nice to have someone to talk to. Thanks for stopping by."

"Nice try. I'll cover it. I only refused last time to make Steve do it. But it's not happening again." I smiled and stuck the business card in my apron.

"I'll keep you updated on my casserole plans." He grinned.

"You better. I'm counting on it."