Metanoia | Chris Evans

2.4

Charlie shoots the male across from her a smile as she places her drink down on the table, taking back her handbag that he was keeping safe for her so that she can put her purse away, getting herself comfortable and settled across from her counterpart. Once she's satisfied, her hat next to her with her bag, she turns her complete attention to the man across the table from her.

"So, Evans, how have you been?"

"I think I should be the one asking that," He laughs, "Felt like I'd have to ring your boss to pencil me into your schedule - you've been so busy lately, it's taken so many attempts for this little coffee meetup to actually happen."

She shakes her head with an apologetic smile, reaching across the table to squeeze his hand. "I'm sorry - I guess I've just had a lot on my mind and been using work to deal with it."

He turns his hand over, gripping her hand in return. "So, talk to me - I'm all ears."

"Scott..."

"What?" He tilts his head, reminding her of a puppy, leaning closer across the table. "Is it some big secret or something?"

She shakes her head immediately. "No, there's no secrets."

"Then what's been keeping you so busy that not even Chris has heard much from you?" He prompts. "We used to tell each other nearly everything, there's not much you can say that will surprise me, so just-"

She cuts him off. "There's been talk of sending us back."

It's silent, other than the general noise from the cafe around them, as he processes her words, his drink halfway to his mouth from where he had frozen upon hearing her words. It's not exactly a topic of conversation that's come up in a while and, after her last tour overseas and the resulting mental health issues, it didn't seem like a topic of conversation that would ever come up again.

"What do you mean back? Who's 'us'?" Scott places his drink to the side, frowning, as he sits back and takes his hand back to run them both through his hair, still trying to process everything."You've got to give me more than that because my mind is coming up with some pretty crazy theories here."

She sighs, fiddling with a napkin from the dispenser on their table. "My old commander came by the facility the other day - he's still serving but strictly stateside now - and he wanted to give me a heads-up about something he'd heard. Apparently, with all the political back and forth, here and over there in the middle east, signing treaties and breaking others, there has been chatter about bringing back some of the successful teams and deploying them again if things heat up." She turns her attention to the comings and goings of the people going about their days through the window they're sitting by. "With the track record of my platoon, and with the number of us still technically in service, we could be one of the teams deployed."

"You're going back?" Scott's question is said quietly as if speaking the words any louder will make them that bit more true.

She turns her head back to him, leaning closer and reaching out to hold his hand on the table again, shaking her head slightly. "I don't know - nothing is confirmed yet, we don't even know for sure if it's going to come to that yet."

"But it could." He states.

She drops her head with a sigh, nodding since it's true. It could happen, and she'll have to grab the go-bag from the back of the closet, restock it properly, and set off again with no guarantee of coming home. "I don't want to but, yes, Scott, it might come to that."

"Don't go," He shakes his head, gripping her hand tightly. "What about your parents? What about us?" He makes a frustrated, desperate noise under his breath, before gripping her hand with both of his, meeting her eyes determinedly. "Damn it, what about Chris? Are you seriously going to put him through all that again? He can't function when you're over there, he's so stressed that he's going to get a phone call telling him you're not coming home-"

"I know-" She cuts him off, not wanting to hear any more about her best friend's struggle during her time overseas. "God damn it, Scott - I know." She takes her hand back, running her hands through her hair before leaning her elbows on the table and hanging her head in her hands. She lifts her head, meeting his eyes, silently begging him to understand what she is about to say. "I don't want to do that to him, to you, to any of you. Ever. But, I don't have a choice. If the order to ship out comes then I have to go." She pauses, reaching over to place a hand on his shoulder, hoping he is understanding what she's not saying too. "We joked that joining the military is like signing your life away, but it's true. If they need us, then we go - no matter what we want or think about it, no matter who we're leaving behind, we go and we pray with everything we have that we'll make it back at the end."

He grips her wrist, nodding to confirm that he understands, his thumb rubbing circles against her skin as he sends her a tight smile. "But nothing is confirmed yet."

"Exactly," She takes a deep breath. "Now, can we please change the topic to something less morbid? Tell me, what has been happening in the world of Scott Evans, and the Evans family, while I've been preoccupied?"

He let's go of her arm to grab his drink. "I hope you've got time then because this might take a while."

She hums in interest, grabbing her own drink, leaning forward in wait. "For you? All the time in the world." She winks, prompting him to chuckle before going on to regale her with some of the stuff she's missed.