Remember Me (Steve Rogers Fanfiction)

Chapter 3

STEVE'S POV

"Hey, do you want to order a pizza or something?" Sam yells from his bedroom.

"No, I'm not hungry," I call back, setting down my sketchbook. I can't distract myself, anyway.

She's been gone for a few hours, and it already seems like forever. I sigh and rub my forehead tiredly. I don't like being away from Mer for long, especially with a fight like this hanging between us. It got out of hand way too quickly, but we're both strong-willed and it happens. We get into the occasional fight. It's been a while, though.

Maybe I shouldn't have sent her. She didn't want to go. Mer is many things, but illogical isn't one of them. She has to have her reasons. She's never turned down a mission before. What if something's really wrong?

"Are you done staring a hole in the carpet?" Sam jokingly asks. I didn't even hear him come in. "You haven't moved from that spot for half an hour. Must be some spot."

"Funny."

"Sulking around isn't going to do anything," he says. "Seriously."

"Thanks, Sam."

"Cap, she's going to forgive you. Chill out."

"How can you be sure? I was a jerk to her. I know you heard what happened. We weren't quiet. I made her go, she didn't want to."

Sam shrugs as he sits on the couch across from me. "Because she can't stay mad at you for long. Believe me, I've seen her try. We all have. She and Nat were the best ones to send, it would have been more dangerous if anyone else went. They're better at this sort of the job than we are. And more than anything, she wants to keep us safe over herself. She'll understand after she gets over it. She's just on edge now. They'll be back in a few days and you two can figure this out together."

"But I don't understand why." I stand and start pacing, unable to stay still. It's a habit I've picked up from Mer. "She hasn't been talking to me. I feel like something's wrong. And she's been moping around, Sam, and I can't figure out why."

"She has been down lately," Sam agrees. "But everyone gets like that sometimes."

"But why? I'm her husband, and she's keeping secrets. There's obviously a reason she didn't want to go on this mission, but I have no idea what it is. What if I did something wrong? What if she's mad at me?"

"I don't think that's it, Cap."

I shake my head. "Since Belgium, she's been different. She hasn't been talking to me. She's been shutting me out."

"Steve, everything is going to be fine. Stop worrying so much. It's probably rough for her around this time of year. Give her a break, she needs it."

"What's this time of year?" I ask, completely bewildered. "It's September. It's fall, it's her favorite season. Just a few days ago on the train she was telling me about everything she was thankful for and how lucky we all are. What changed? What's so rough about September?"

Sam raises his eyebrows. Something shifts behind his eyes. "Do you remember what happened last September?" He asks carefully.

I think back. It feels like so long ago. Last September, last September. "We were in London. No, it was Italy. Italy, right?" He nods. "I don't remember that much. Nothing out of the ordinary. Was that the week that the two of you got food poisoning because you got seafood from a shifty guy and Nat and I had to go solo on a mission?"

"Yeah, well... um, yeah. It was." His eyes go really big, as if he's made a mistake. He quickly gets up to pour himself a glass of water.

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"It was not a good week at all."

"Sam."

"It wasn't!" He says defensively, raising his hands in mock surrender. "We did get sick that week, I felt awful about it, it was my fault, too-"

"Sam."

"It was shrimp! You don't mess around with shrimp. I definitely learned my lesson in fish-buying this week. Don't buy from people who sell behind the trucks. They aren't as kind as they seem." He begins to pace erratically, which concerns me. He's not like this most of the time. He's usually laid back.

"Sam!" I finally yell, getting him to stop his crazy speech. "Stop it!"

He sighs and looks at me. "She really never told you?"

"She never told me? Never told me what?" A sick feeling fills my stomach, because I have no idea what she's decided to hide from me for an entire year. I thought we didn't have secrets. I don't, at least.

"She said she was going to," he mutters to himself. "She told me not to tell you. Said she'd do it on her own."

"Tell me what?" My voice shakes as I stand to look him in the eye. "Sam, please. Come on, man."

"This isn't for me to say," he insists, but there's no resolve behind his words. "It's her secret. I respect that."

"Sam, I swear, if you don't tell me-"

He closes his eyes momentarily, takes a deep breath, and nods. "Fine. I'll tell you, but you listen to me first. You aren't allowed to be angry with me or her after I'm done. Especially her. This wasn't her fault, and she was so messed up after."

"I won't. I want to know what happened so I can fix this. Please, just tell me."

"All right, all right. No interruptions, you got that? I only want to tell it once." He waits until I sit down and he does the same. "Okay. It all started last September, in Italy. We were all sitting around the table playing cards. Here goes."