An introverted waitress stumbles into Captain America during Loki's attack on New York. After taking a bullet for him, he lets her go, wondering. She's on the run, but he can't know that. When she meets the Avengers again, escape is all but impossib...
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AMERICA'S POV
I wake up shaking, cold sweat clinging to the back of my neck. My breath comes in short pants, and hysteria quickly overwhelms me. Tears fill my eyes. This is what I get for dozing off. I haven't had a full night's sleep in days. Each time I drift off, it's like I'm back in that cell, in that lab, screaming as electricity courses through my veins, or killing people who didn't deserve it. I look them right in the eye before I do it. And I wake up right before they die. Each time.
I get up and start pacing, zooming back and forth in my small room. It's like there's invisible smoke, trying to choke me. You're stronger than this, I tell myself over and over. But I really don't think I am.
In my irrational, untrusting, sleep-deprived state, I decide to chance leaving the safety of my room to get a drink. I haven't been outside since I got here. I don't even know where I'm going. I just push open the door and wander, jumping at every creak in the floor, constantly glancing over my shoulder. I need to know my surroundings. I eventually find the kitchen and dig through the refrigerator in the dark. I don't know much, but if Tony Stark owns this place, then there's got to be alcohol somewhere.
I crack open the beer and take a large gulp. I've always hated the taste of beer. It's awful. And the more I drink, the more I realize that the stuff has no effect on me at all. And the more I realize that, the angrier I get. I'm torn between wanting to remember everything and wanting to forget it all.
How am I supposed to do this? There's this constant battle in my mind as I try to trust again. But I can't. Steve told me I had a pretty laugh, a sweet smile. But all of that warmth is gone, replaced with paranoia I can't even control. I can't control anything.
"America." I nearly drop the bottle and whip around, but it's only Steve, dressed in a gray shirt and sweatpants. "You left your room. And it's three forty-five in the morning."
"So it is." I take another sip and grimace before slamming the bottle on the counter and lowering my head in my hands.
"Hey, what's wrong?" He asks, putting his hands on my shoulders.
"I can't get drunk," I mumble. "That's the problem."
"Neither can I. It's the serum." Steve takes the barstool next to me. "Why does that matter right now?"
"I can't sleep. Drinking and sleeping are usually the two things people do to escape, and I can't do either."
"Nightmares?" I nod and meet his eyes. The faint light from the moon is the only thing that allows me to see him. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Telling people things is not my strong suit," I whisper, gripping the bottle so tightly I'm worried it might shatter.
"I get that, but I'm trying to help you. And I can't help you if I don't know what I need to help you with," he points out. I sigh. He's right, but it's so hard.
"Steve, I just- I feel like I can't breathe. Everyone keeps telling me it's going to be okay, they keep telling me that I'm safe. But they told me those same things last time. Everything startles me, I don't remember this place or the majority of the people who were like a family to me. I just don't know how to do this," I say, finally breaking down. I'm at the point where I have no tears left to cry. I just feel empty, void of emotions. "And I'm so scared. I'm so scared this is all some trick, that I'm not really here, I'm not really safe. Some new nightmarish torture, or it's all just a dream, and then I wake up and I'm back. Steve, I feel like I don't even know what's real anymore."
"I'm sorry," he whispers. I swallow back a sob and nod. "Listen, the world isn't that great of a place. You're right. But that doesn't mean that everything in it is. There are so many good things to experience, and you can't do any of them living in fear. All of those feelings you're experiencing? They're valid. Completely valid and understandable. And you can tell me anything. I promise. Okay?"
"Okay." I give him a watery smile. He puts his warm, calloused hand in mine. It's surprisingly comforting, and I don't draw away.
"That's my girl." He gives me an almost shy smile of his own. "Bruce has been working on anxiety medicine for you. It should help you sleep. He's finished with it, I think. Why don't we go downstairs to get it and then go back to bed?"
"That sounds good," I reply quietly. My hand still entwined in his, we head to the elevator and JARVIS takes us down a few floors. It's only when I catch sight of the science labs that I freeze. Steve stops short and turns around, immediately concerned.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?"
"I don't want to go in there," I whisper, not tearing my eyes away from the door. Just looking at a lab fills me with dread. "I'll wait outside for you."
Understanding dawns in his eyes and he nods, thank goodness. "I'll be out in a minute." He goes in to retrieve a little orange bottle full of small white pills, emerging minutes later. "See, it's okay. I'm okay. Nothing happened. Let's go upstairs."
We're both silent in the elevator, and he takes the lead heading back through hallways. Now that I'm relatively calm, I realize how exhausted I am. Once I'm back in my room, I swallow a few of the pills with some water and get under the covers.
"You'll be fine?" Steve asks, hovering by the door. I nod. Just being with him tonight has helped me more than those pills probably ever will. "Well, goodnight, then."
"Steve," I say. He stops turning the doorknob and faces me. "Don't go." I don't want to be alone right now. I never feel safer than when he's there. Like if he's here, nothing can get me. He'll protect me.
He comes over and kneels next to the bed, getting eye level with me. "Never." He gives me a soft kiss on the forehead, and with him here, I finally close my eyes.
When I wake up the next morning around six, I find that he's still here. He never left. He's just asleep, leaning against my bed. Blond hair messy. He looks younger in his sleep. More relaxed. I smile for what feels like the first time in forever. Then I give him a quick kiss on the cheek before going back to sleep.
Hi! I love this chapter so much, wow. I'm really proud of it. What do you guys think? The song is "The Archer" by Taylor Swift. I feel like it's America's song just because of its vulnerability. Like, she's afraid to love, but she's also afraid no one will love her. Anyway, that nighttime rainy version reminded me of this chapter. One more thing, I love Steve and America.
