After multiple run-ins with death and many shocking self-discoveries in the course of a few months, all America Evans wants to do is hide away in Washington with Steve until she finds out who she really is. But life as an Avenger doesn't allow for a...
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AMERICA'S POV
I wake up with my head resting on Steve's chest, the two of us tangled in sheets. I can't believe I'm going to wake up next to him forever. How is this my life?
"Hey, Mer," Steve mumbles, pulling me close. I close my eyes again, soaking in the moment. "How did you sleep?"
"No nightmares, so well. You?"
"Well. Merry Christmas, by the way."
I almost forgot. "Merry Christmas." I slide out of bed to get a drink of water, and when I come back,I sit on the bed and give him a kiss on the head. He resurfaces from under the blankets and smiles up at me. "I wouldn't get your hopes up, though. What time's our flight today?"
"Eleven. What time is it now?"
I check the clock and am shocked by what I find. "Nine thirty. I slept nine hours straight. That never happens."
"Really? That's great." He sits up and stretches. "Do you think it has anything to do with the fact that you weren't alone?"
"I don't know. If it did, that would be amazing," I say, shrugging. "So thank you."
"You don't need to thank me. We help each other."
There's a moment when we just stare at each other and enjoy the quiet of mid-morning. But we have things to do, and both of us know it. Once we're on the plane and in Malibu, then we can just focus on us.
The ride to the airport isn't long, and soon enough we're standing in line waiting to walk through metal detectors and onto the plane. I haven't been to an actual airport since... My blood runs cold.
Since I left Hydra.
I suck in a shallow breath and my hand snaps back until it finds Steve's. I hate planes. I forgot how much I do. I've never liked flying much, even in the Quinjet or clinging to Thor for dear life. It's terrifying, and it takes me back to a really desperate time in my life where I had just ditched Bucky, ripped a tracker out of my arm, and stole money to get away. I was a coward.
"You okay?" He whispers in my ear, gently pushing me forward in line.
I nod a little, still not completely sure. "Um, yeah, I'm fine." We get through the lines and are walking towards the jet when I realize I've completely left Steve behind. He's at least thirty feet behind me. I must've sped up subconsciously while freaking myself out. "I am so sorry!" I exclaim as soon as he catches up to me.
"It's fine, I've gotten used to it." He gives me a small, side grin. "I'm serious - are you okay?"
I shrug and close my eyes tiredly. "Yeah. I just... I hate flying, I hate planes, I forgot we'd have to do this to get to Malibu, and it just reminds me of Hydra."
