Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shots

Afterglow

The dimly lit hallway you walked down hesitantly, your feet seeming to sluggishly drag against the old carpeting, danced with the shadows of the light that shone from the only occupied room. It was the small room at the very end of the hall, on the left, and as your nervous feet brought you closer, you could hear the faint murmurs of voices. There weren't many, that much you could tell. But as you listened vaguely from your hidden spot in the hall, you heard the emptiness that filled the minimal voices. The pain and the sadness wafted into the hallway air as their words slowly escaped them, and it seemed as though the room was splitting at the seams with hurting bodies, when in reality it was nearly scarce. But you could almost feel the heaviness of their lost souls as you stepped closer to the doorway. As though you were walking into a thunderstorm of anguish and remembrance that swirled with vengeance around you, tightening your chest and challenging your every step, the closer you inched towards the wide open door. 

You were thankful for the quietness of the flooring beneath your boots, the carpeting keeping the floorboards from creaking beneath your sudden weight. You were appreciative of the silence that allowed you to peer into the fluorescent lit room, without your presence being noticed by those who resided inside. 

You stared silently at those who sat in old folding chairs, spread out in a small circle in the center of the room. Long tables were picked up and leaning sadly against the far walls, leaving the room wider and emptier than it already was. The room could've once been filled with smiling people and brighter light, happier stories to be told, but the walls sagged as did those in the black chairs. Plagued by the years of loss that had passed, leaving all of that in the past. 

Your eyes refocused as a man suddenly stood slowly to his feet, his palms pressing against his thighs as he rose, and in the way he addressed the small group around him, you could tell he was the leader of the therapy group. Even though nothing marked him as such, there was something in the way he stood and faced every man around him with empathy and clear kindness in his expressions, that told you that he ran the group. 

You watched as the man with perfectly swept blonde hair and pained eyes shook the hands of those around him, as they began to make their way to the doorway you hid beside. He mumbled words to some and lent a kind smile to others as he watched them leave one by one. Anxiety swam through your veins as each one passed by you, the wind of their movements causing goosebumps to arise on your skin, and you feared someone would question what you were doing out in the hallway. But no one did, they all continued to walk past you, and it felt as though you were invisible. As though you were just another spot on the wall they passed. 

As soon as the last man turned and disappeared down the hall, you felt yourself inhale a deep breath for the first time in minutes. You weren't exactly sure why you felt nervous that you might get caught standing outside the small room, eavesdropping on the group inside. There was no harm in what you were doing, yet your mind swarmed with fear. And as you took a small step forward, your eyes fell upon something. It hung against a shelf that stood against the wall right inside of the doorway, the first thing you saw when you were to enter the room. And as you read the words on the small sign, you realized your fear had nothing to do with the people inside or the fact that they might frown upon your sudden presence in their group.

Your fear was in yourself... and your own baggage that you brought to the group.

"You can come in if you'd like," A voice rang out in the small space, and yet it seemed to bounce off the walls with a strong power. "there's no reason for you to hide in the hallway all night."

His tone was calm and soft, confronting but in the most comforting way possible. And his words, although they called you out of your hiding space, they didn't frighten you.