When Time Collides ★ [2] ✔

Comfort

Hiding was good. Hiding was very good at the moment. There was nowhere to go. Well, not that I knew of. But Steve had reassured me that he knew a place.

I leaned on him as he knocked on the door. The neighbourhood was quiet. I expected as much. It was about six in the morning.

My ankle was definitely broken. But I could feel it slowly healing, the bones slowly repairing themselves, melding back together. It hurt, but the pain was necessary, especially if I needed to fight.

The blinds rose and the door opened. I didn't know who it was. He looked nice enough, which was always a plus.

"Hey, man," he greeted.

"I'm sorry about this," Steve said. "We need a place to lay low."

He opened the door wider and stepped aside. "I know."

Steve helped me inside and we were confronted with Natasha sitting at the dining room table. She wore different clothes. 

She grinned. "What took you so long?"

"You know, the usual." I shrugged. "Escaping the wreckage of an army camp after said camp is destroyed by a missile. Just another day at the office."

Her eyes flicked to my ankle. "I can see that."

"The bathroom's through there," the owner of the house directed.

"Thanks, Sam," Steve sighed breathlessly. "I appreciate what you're doing."

Sam shrugged. "What are friends for, right?"

Steve helped me to the bedroom to clean up. I showered and dressed into the fresh clothes Natasha had bought. I sat on the edge of the bed as Steve used the bathroom.

I examined my injury. Though I didn't have my watch, there were still little things I could do. Healing was one of them, but slowly. I wrapped my hands around my ankle. I gritted my teeth. They glowed faintly, slowly healing my injury. It was painful, but painful similarly to a stinging sensation.

When Steve came into the room, the glow died down and my ankle felt better. I suspected that I'd still have a limp for a few more hours, but at least it wasn't broken any longer.

"You okay?" he asked, sitting across from me.

"Yeah," I breathed. "Just fixing up my leg. I'm going to need it for whatever comes next."

He watched me, gazing at me curiously with his honest blue eyes.

My brows knitted together. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

I looked at his hands as he threaded his fingers in thought. "Zola knew my name. He knew when I was born. How come he didn't know who you are?"

"Easy. Your life is on file. I'm nothing but a ghost who walks. My file was put together with the creation of Project Hourglass, and that was way after Zola's freaky computer mind thing was built. And he never met me back in 1943. He wouldn't have known who I was."

I couldn't help but notice Steve's disappointment. I knew why, of course. He was hoping to find out when I was born. Now wasn't the right time, not to mention that we didn't have much of it. Besides, he'd catch on straight away once he connected the dots between the date and the knowledge I'd shared with him about my brothers.

I'd tell him. I didn't want to hide anything from him. I decided to find another way. I'd show him. Soon. Not now. But soon.

"We're close, Steve. Very close," I said, keeping my eyes on my hands. "I know you've been waiting a long time to know everything about me. But now just...isn't the right time."

He raked his hair with his hand. "I'm patient, but I feel like I can trust you more if I knew everything."

My brows knitted further. "You don't trust me?"

"Of course I do." He sighed exasperatedly. "It's just—"

"No, I understand." I stood and walked to the window. I hugged myself as I gazed out of it. "I don't expect you to trust me. I've lived many lives and walked among others'. The things I've done...the things I've kept hidden from those close to me...I don't deserve to be trusted."

I shivered as his arm snaked around my shoulders. "I trust you, Andi. I've always trusted you; ever since I met you. I'm sorry. Tell me when you're ready."

I couldn't help it. I turned and hugged him. I felt safe as he wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close. A terrible feeling was eating me up inside because I couldn't tell him everything at that moment. But I felt such comfort with my head rested against his chest. Butterflies fluttered in my chest, caged and fighting to escape. I'd felt many butterflies aflutter before. I'd felt it with Henry Glenn. I'd felt it with a man in Victorian London. I'd felt it with Eilian. But it was different with Steve. I couldn't put my finger on it. It didn't confuse me. It felt too right to be confusing.

I heard someone clear their throat. Steve and I let go immediately and turned to Sam at the threshold. He smirked. "I made breakfast. If you guys eat that sort of thing."

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