Why me?

The Hospital

STEVE POV

This was Jessica Ariana Peterson. The girl I had pulled out of a car almost seven years ago.

I spoke to Jess's grandma, Annie, and settled everything out. She had given full consent for me to take her to the ER to get her hand checked, and she said that, for tonight, she would allow Jess back to the compound, but she wanted and official consent form for next time.

Annie had also warned me about Jess's wariness around cars. After the accident, she found it very difficult to be in a car without checking certain things.

Jess's bags and clothes would still be in the changing room, so I went there first, just to pick everything up, then went back to her.

"You ready to go?" I said as I poked my head around the door. She stood up and walked over to me, still a little unsteady on her feet.

I got to know exactly what Annie meant when she sat in the passenger seat of my car. "I know this may sound strange, Mr Rogers, but can you just check your seatbelt please." She said once I'd pushed it in for the first time. I unclipped it, then put it back in, making sure it clicked in properly. "Thanks. I'm sorry, I always do that." She apologised, evidently embarrassed.

"Don't worry about it. Bucky's the same with some things. He won't go into new rooms without being absolutely certain he can get out. Are we good to go?" She nodded. "Good. We're heading to the hospital first to make sure your hand will heal properly, then we're straight off to the compound."

JESS POV

Bucky? Who the hell was Bucky? "Who's Bucky? I assume I'll meet him when I get to the compound?" I wondered aloud.

"Bucky is my husband, and you'll actually meet him before that, he's meeting us at the hospital." He pulled onto the highway and sped up. The feeling of being pushed back into the seat made me nervous, but somehow, I felt safe, like I knew nothing would go wrong.

Husband? There was nothing wrong with that, I just never saw Mr Rogers as being gay; then again, I shouldn't stereotype, there isn't a certain way to 'be gay.'

Around ten minutes later, we were at the city hospital, and Mr Rogers was introducing me to Bucky. At first sights, he seemed awfully intimidating with the metal arm and all, but once we got talking, he was actually quite nice. "So, what did you do to win Steve over? He's been looking for nearly six months for his intern, and all of a sudden, you're in the picture?" He asked as we walked down the hallway to the ER check-in.

"Well, to be quite honest Bucky, Mr Rogers has known me for a while, though he didn't initially remember. I'm Jessica Peterson. Nearly six years ago, he pulled me out of the Brooklyn Wreck; I was the only survivor." I explained, choking up slightly when talking about the accident, but quickly brushing it off.

"You-You're the kid from the Brooklyn Wreck?!" He said incredulously but stopped his questioning. We stopped at the check-in desk, thankfully it wasn't too busy.

"Name." ordered the lady behind the screen.

"Jessica Peterson," I said.

"Date of birth, please."

"The third of October 2004," I stated. I'd been on so many hospital trips, checking into psychiatric wards, the neurology clinics and wherever else I'd been after the accident, I knew exactly what to expect and wasn't fazed by it anymore.

"Go through to the children's unit please, second door-"

"On the left then the waiting room on the right. Thanks," I finished for her. I looked back to make sure Bucky and Mr Rogers were still following me, then lead them down the corridor. They both looked stunned. "I come here a lot. Nerve issues with my legs, anxiety attacks, PTSD episodes. I know my way around here." I explained, pushing the doors open and sitting on a row of empty seats.