A Series Of Chance Encounters (Stiles / Captain America)

Blame it on The Hypothalamus

Stiles wakes up to the sound of doorbell. He grumpily gets out of his bead and heads to the door. Yawning, Stiles opens the door. He stops mid yawn when he sees who is at the door. Stiles quickly clams his mouth shut.

Steve Rogers is standing in front of him. He looks at Stiles with mixes of wonder and hope, fear and happiness.

"Oh god.... Is it really you, Stiles?" Steve asks softly as if his very voice will make him disappear.

"Who else will save your ass, punk?" Stiles asks trying to be light but ends up choking on his own voice.

Steve tackles him into a tight hug and Stiles hugs back just as tightly.

"Stiles." Steve calls his name softly. Stiles melts into his embrace, burrowing into Steve's neck. Steve feels so warm and real and it makes Stiles cling a little tighter.

He mourned this man for years. He thought Steve died during the wars. He did not really have much information to look for a death in the sea of passing. It is only logical to assume that he had not survived the war or probably was long gone even before Stiles starts to cross the river of time.

Then 5 years later, a man in a very familiar suit appeared in the middle of an alien invasion. Steve in all his glory fought like an avenging angel sent from above. He was gallant and bold. He plowed through the enemy like a canon ball. Steve Rogers was legendary. It almost gave Stiles a heart attack seeing his old friend charging into the middle of the fray. It was surreal to see the skinny kid back in the alley waging against an impossible enemy. And yet, they won.

After that, Stiles have a lot of chance to finally reconnect with his old friend. However, he was guilty and ashamed. He should have recognized who Steve was. He could have saved his best friend. He could have saved him from a lot of pain. With a heavy and guilty heart, he kept his distance and watched from afar.

For too long, Stiles has been watching from a far. And in this moment, holding Steve so close, it feels surreal. He cannot promise he will be able to stay away again. He will surely want for more.

"Hey punk." Stiles greets longingly.

Steve pulls away but he keeps his hands on Stiles shoulder. Steve stares at Stiles, puzzling the familiar face. Stiles catches his breath at the intensity of Steve's gaze.

"I never thought I'd ever see you again." Steve voices one of his deepest sadness.

"Me too. I thought it was all a daydream." Stiles confesses.

"How? How is this even possible? What really happened?" Steve asks the question that has been bugging him since he saw the younger man.

"Time travel." Stiles said. "I don't really know how or why it happened."

"You've seen me for years now. Why didn't you come to me?" Steve accuses, hurt in ways he should not be but still he is.

"I couldn't face you." Stiles admits, his hands clenching on his side.

"Why?" Steve is perplexed. Stiles has done no wrong to him. He is nothing but supportive.

"Because I should have known who you were. The second I saw that star spangled costume, I could have saved you and your bestfriend. I'm sorry, Steve. You could have saved Bucky."

Steve couldn't believe that his friend was blaming himself for something he can not control, blaming himself for something Steve has been blaming himself for a long time too.

"Hey, Stiles, look at me." Steve says softly. But Stiles won't. So Steve touch Stiles chin and gently guides him to look back at him.

"It's okay, Stiles. It's not your fault. Besides, I don't think saving Bucky was really why you came back in time for me."