Trust Me (Steve Rogers Fanfiction)

Chapter 22

AMERICA'S POV

I take a deep breath, hesitating as my chilled fingers grip the doorknob. It taunts me, just daring me to go outside. It's just a movie. Just a movie. And Steve's going to be there. These people are your friends. They don't want to hurt you. They want to know you again, want to help you. It's okay. I almost convince myself that I'm going to be okay leaving the room, but it doesn't stop me from tucking a Swiss Army knife into the pocket of my jeans. It makes me feel slightly safer, and I know that I can run faster than any of them can blink. I'll be fine. I'll be fine. I'll be fine.

I almost believe it.

I'm halfway down the hallway before a foul taste rises in my throat. Within seconds I'm back in the bathroom emptying what little food I ate today into the toilet. I sit back against the wall, completely and absolutely disgusted with myself. Hating every ounce of my being. Why can't I trust anyone? What is it going to take to feel secure again? All I'm doing is hanging out with old friends, ones who want to help me get better, and I just threw up out of fear to face them. I'm pathetic.

Despite being pathetic, I know they're expecting me, and Steve's going to be worried if I don't show up, so I stand up, brush my teeth, and leave like nothing ever happened. If I ever want to get better, I need to push myself out of my comfort zone. I'm not going to heal in the confines of my room, no matter how much I wish I could.

This time, I actually do venture out into the combined living room and kitchen, where the majority of the Avengers are lounging on the couches. Tony and Bruce are noticeably absent, and Steve told me that Thor returned to Asgard while I was... gone. The only thing that keeps me putting one foot in front of the other is Steve's warm, reassuring smile. I silently take a spot in between him and Nat, unsure if I should speak.

"Hi America," Natasha says, smiling. All these smiles. It's unnerving. I glance around with my eyes, scanning for potential escape routes before stopping myself. You're safe. You're safe. You're safe. The only odd thing I notice is a trash can stuffed to the brim with newspapers. Steve catches me staring, and he frowns a bit.

"Hey." My voice is quiet, slightly raspy from not using it often.

Tony and Bruce are the last two to trickle in, arguing heatedly about something scientific. Physics. Paradoxes. I know the right answer, but I'll let them fight it out. I don't really want to talk about it, and I'm not sure how I know the answer anyway, so it might get awkward.

"So what are we watching?" Clint asks, tripping Tony as he walks by. Tony picks himself up with as much grace as he can muster and smirks.

"Phantom of the Opera," Steve replies, glancing at me with a twinkle in his blue eyes. He remembered. That's all I've been listening to in my room.

"I don't think I've watched a musical in years," Nat says. She passes a bowl of popcorn to me. I smile in thanks.

"I feel like they're all I watch," Clint complains. I raise my eyebrows. "My...girlfriend, she likes Disney a lot."

"Really? Your make-believe girlfriend likes musicals?" Bruce jokes. "I'll believe that once I believe she exists."

"You know, I've lived in New York all my life and never been to a full Broadway show?" Tony comments as he turns the movie on.

"Really?" Bruce asks.

"Yeah. Too much time sitting still and being quiet. I tried to see The Lion King once, but I'd already had a few drinks and they threw me out when I started to sing the opening number." Everyone laughs, including me. It feels nice to laugh again. "Apparently I was a, and I quote, 'distraction to both the audience and the performers.' Can you believe that? I didn't even make it to intermission."

"You really are a loser, Stark," Natasha teases. He rolls his eyes and clicks play, choosing not to reply.

We all get immersed in the movie, but we don't just watch it. When the title track comes on, I get to listen to Clint sing as the Phantom and Tony sing as Christine. And he somehow hits all of her high notes. Badly, but I'll give it to him. Every time he hits a note, Natasha throws popcorn at his head and makes it look like Steve did it. Steve gets more flustered each time Tony glares accusingly at him. And by the end, we're all passing a box of tissues around, except Natasha and Steve, who only smirk and supply us with more. I forgot what it was like to have fun.

It's late when the movie ends, so I decide to call it a night. "Goodnight, you guys," I say quietly. "Thanks for a fun time."

"No problem, kid. See you in the AM." Tony smiles, and I speed down the hallway. As I change into my pajamas, I find the knife from earlier. Without a second thought, I throw it in the trash.

I don't need it anymore.

Hey! Shorter chapter, but what did you think?

By the way, be on the lookout in the next few chapters for a Q&A announcement! It was pretty popular in "Healing Each Other," so I want to try it here. Start thinking up some good questions for your favorite characters!