The Girl Who Lives and The Boy Who Gives.

Chapter Thirty One

A/N: I thought the song would be fitting for this chapter :3

Scott's P.O.V.

I lay in my bed staring into the darkness, alone. It's neatly one in the morning and I'm exhausted, yet I just can't seem to fall asleep. It's silent in the room but it's the sort of silence that feels loud. There are so many thoughts running through my head right now as I shut and then reopen my eyes over and over again.

I sit up and roll off of my bed, knowing that I won't be getting sleep anytime soon. I feel a breeze run up my boxers when I stand up so I grab a pair of sweatpants off of my desk before walking out of the room. I rub my eyes as I make my way downstairs and in the direction of the kitchen. I tilt my head when I see that the light in the kitchen is already on.

I poke my head into the kitchen to see Abby sitting on the counter, she's kicking her legs back and forth while she hums a melody.

"What're you doing up so late?" He head snaps up and she lets out a little scream, obviously not expecting me to be in here.

"Don't scare me like that," she glares at me and I chuckle before walking further into the room. "I had a nightmare and then I couldn't fall back to sleep. So i came down here to make some hot milk."

She gestures to a pot that's sitting on the stove and I nod my head in understanding. I walk around the oven and over to where she's sitting. I hop up onto the counter to sit next to us, leaving a considerable amount of space between us.

"Do you want some hot milk too?" Abby asks already jumping off of the counter and walking over to the refrigerator before I can even answer her.

"If you insist," I laugh and she grabs the milk before turning around and walking back over to the stove. She pours some extra milk into the pot before putting the milk away and coming to sit next to me on the counter again.

"What're you doing up?" She pulls one leg up onto the counter and hugs it to her chest. I shut my eyes before opening them up wide again, trying to get rid of the burning that have invaded my tired eyes from lack of sleep.

"Oh you know me," I shrug rubbing a hand over my face. "I was just going to run out for a few and save a few lives. The usual."

"I'm sure it is," she laughs scrunching her nose up cutely. "So you're some sort of superhero?"

"I wouldn't call myself a superhero," I shake my head and lean back against the wall. "I'd like to think I'm more than a superhero. I'm more like an ethereal being that lends a hand every once in awhile when I decide that I'm feeling up to it."

"I take it you even have your own slogan?"

"Damn right I do."

"Mind telling me what it is?"

"Scott Rogers," I say pausing as I think for a moment. "Saving lives since 94'."