Captain

Part eighteen

March 2014

"Good afternoon (l/n)," Fury greeted me as I sat down in his office.

"Good afternoon sir," I returned the gesture.

"Are you ready to begin your evaluation?" He asked while sliding a folder to me. 

I nodded.

"Good," he almost let a smile cross his face. He held a paper in his hand and began to read off of it.  "Today we will be evaluating your field readiness. When an agent gets injured in the field as severely and extensively as you did, it is protocol for an evaluation of their physical and mental state to take place, after said agent is cleared by a physician." Fury sighed.

"Enough of that bullshit," Fury tossed the paper in the trash. "I know you. I know what you've been through, and I know it hasn't been easy. But I personally recruited you to be a shield agent, and I did that for a reason and I know how hard you have worked to recover." He paused taking in a deep breath. "To be put simply agent (l/n), I believe in you."

~~~~~~~~

When I got back to my apartment I heard someone whistling to old music inside, Steve. He wasn't supposed to be back from his mission for another few days.

I leaned forward resting my forehead on the door. It was truly sweet of him to pop in and cook... but right now I just wanted to be alone.

Tears started to gather in my eyes. 'Not now' I thought, fanning my hands in front of my face. After the threat of tears went away I unlocked the door and ventured inside.

After quietly setting down my purse I moved silently into the kitchen. Steve had his back to me as he stirred whatever was in the pot and swayed to the music. I sat down at the bar and waited for him to realize I was there.

Finally, he switched off the stove and spun around with a pot of pasta ready to strain.

"Holy shit!" Steve jumped back, almost dropping the pasta.

"Hi," I waved quietly.

"Damn you scared me," he set the pot down and rubbed his eyes.

"I guess I forgot to yell honey I'm home," I joked. "And it's not every day you get to scare Captain America. I saw a chance and took it."

"Haha," Steve chuckled as he walked around the bar. He stopped in front of me then leaned down, cupping my cheek, and pulled me into a kiss.

'This is nice,' I thought to myself as the kiss continued. My world is just better when he is around. Just as I placed my hand on his chest he pulled away.

"How is my beautiful fiancee on this fine day," he asked leaning one elbow on the bar.

'Terrible,' I thought.

"I am doing just fine," I lied with a smile. He seemed to take my words at face value. "How are you handsome?"

"Great," he placed a much shorter kiss on my lips, "even better now that you're here." Then he went back to straining the pasta.

"You know I wasn't expecting you to be home for another two days," I leaned forward on my elbows. A smug look placed itself on Steve's face as he finished with the pasta.

"I'm just that good," he grinned and acted out a little fight scene.

"Oh ok Mr. Hot Shot," I smile. I love when he is goofy, he's not like that much.

"How about thank you 'Mr. Hot Shot' for making my favorite dinner?" He teased, waving a bowl of chicken alfredo in front of my face.

"Thank you," I smiled and held out my hands hoping he would give it to me. Thankfully he sat the bowl of hot pasta in my hands. After being given the food I decided that the couch was where we were going to eat dinner tonight.

"So how was your mission?" I asked once we were settled on the couch. "It obviously went well because you're home early," I added while stuffing my mouth.

"Yeah, it was good," Steve chuckled a reply. "Very routine. Quick, easy, and to the point. None of that undercover, intel gathering bull." Those are the best kind of missions... until they aren't.

"How about you," Steve asked cheerfully, "how was your day?" I stuffed my mouth with pasta again, trying to dodge the question.

"Oh you know," I waved with my fork, "the usual." My attempt to get out of answering that question had failed terribly.

"What do you mean," Steve sat back and cocked a brow, "nothing at shield is ever usual." Then before I could answer, he caught me off guard. "Wait, today they were going to tell you if you could go back to field duty, right?" He tilted his head to the side trying to remember.

"Um yeah, yep that was today," I set my bowl on the coffee table.

"Oh, how'd that go?" Steve leaned forward genuinely interested. He's known I've been itching to do something other than fill out and sort old cases for the last couple of months. Poor Steve had to listen to me complain all the time about how bored I was.

"Um..." Like that my throat went dry and I could feel my face grow hot, "I passed the physical fitness test with flying colors ', especially for someone who had been through as much as I have." I did air quotations for emphasis.

"Okay! Good good," Steve smiled setting his bowl down as well.

"However," my vision began to blur, "after my psych eval, they found me to be mentally unfit for active field duty." I dipped my head and began to chew on my cheek, hoping no tears would escape. But stray droplets began to fall onto my cheeks.

With a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, Steve slowly sat back. I don't think he was so much disappointed in me as he was for me. 

"Gosh," he spoke up after a short period of silence, "I'm so sorry (y/n)." I nodded, frozen in my position. "Well, what now?"

"I talked to Hill she told me that because of my results the psychologist had requested Fury assign me more medical leave." I looked up at him, trying to wipe away my tears. "She said it's protocal or some bullshit like that." Steve then placed a comforting hand on my knee. After a few moments of silence, I spoke up again.

"But you know what the worst part was," my voice cracked and tears began to fall freely, "the psychologist stopped me before I left and told me I should get a therapist, and 'work on myself so when I'm reevaluated I will be ready to come back." I stopped for a second to wipe my nose.

"Do you know how fucking insulting that was? I mean what does she think I was doing for the last year? Sitting on my couch, stuffing my face with ice cream, and wallowing in self-pity?" I don't think Steve knew what to say so he just pulled me into a tight hug and began to brush the hair out of my face.

"Shh... Shh," he hushed while pulling me even closer. "Hey, I know how hard you've worked to get to where you are, and I'm so proud of you." It was nice to hear him say that. Steve's grip on me was comforting, and just his presents helped calm me down. 

"Thank you," I whispered as I pulled away.

"For what?"

"For being here and understanding," I said while wiping my face with my sleeve. "It was just embarrassing, you know?"

"Yeah, I know," Steve nodded. He took a deep breath in then sighed, "but I hope my words hold a little more weight than that psychologists." I nodded.

"So what do I do now?" I leaned back on the couch. "They aren't even going to let me sort files, I can't just sit at home all day and do nothing," I sighed, "I feel useless."

"Hey!" Steve's head snapped quickly at my words "Don't say that." He got quiet for a second. "Just because shield says you can't got out in the field doesn't mean you can't got with the avengers. Sheild doesn't necessarily control our protocals. Tony does that." That wasn't a bad idea actually. "Or I guess this gives you a little more time to plan stuff for the wedding."

"Well I guess I hadn't thought about those options," I smiled with a bit more hope. "Thank you... again."

"Any time," Steve smiled and leaned in, pressing his lips against mine.