THE INBETWEEN ~ STEVE ROGERS [5]

New Ink

I breathed in deeply. Ah, the smell of antiseptic. That clinical, lemony smell still gave me a shiver up my spine, still made my nose sting and my skin crawl. But in a way, it was a comfort. The leather of the chair stuck to my sweating bare skin. I was wearing shorts in the humid New York weather and had only just now decided it was a bad decision.

"Are you ready? This will be our last session so we better make it count." Kaitlyn, my petite red-headed tattoo artist grinned and buzzed the needle. I gripped the chair with my left hand and nodded.

"I'm ready. Let's finish this bitch."

After getting my cast off of my right arm (let me remind you, it was completely shattered when I was crushed by a building in Germany) my skin had been littered with small scars from where the bones had pierced the skin. Not only that, but it didn't work as well as it used to. Sometimes, I had to wear it in a sling as that dull ache spread down it, and I couldn't bend my elbow. Shuri had managed to save the tattoo of three roses along my inner forearm, but I found myself wanting to add to it, to continue the small bouquet I had created all those years ago.

And so, like the impulsive spender I am, I decided to get a sleeve.

It had taken weeks of painful sessions to get to where we were today, filling in the last of the sleeve along my wrist. I found the pain dulled after a while. After all, I had experienced a lot of pain, so a little needle wasn't much.

Around the top of my forearm was a collection of Wakanden designs, spiralling up around my elbow. Right in the middle of my upper arm was a depiction of a Valkyrie riding a pegasus, surrounded by a ring of sunflowers and more Wakanden designs around the back of my arm. It had bruised like hell, a mass of tender black skin. But, now as it was mostly healed, the dark ink stood out from my white skin like wine on a white dress. Kaitlyn was just touching it up, tracing the lines over and over. The buzz was almost euphoric, a kind of sweet pain. It was a tribute to the two sides of me, the Wakanden and the Asgardian, something to last when maybe the memories wouldn't.

I tried to think of something else. Steve had been growing a beard. His hair was longer, so long it flopped over his brow when he tilted his head. I didn't know how I felt about the beard yet. It was hot, don't get me wrong, but I wasn't sure if that was just the novelty of it about to wear off. Sam and Natasha had bets on how long it would last.

When I wasn't home in Wakanda, we were travelling across countries undercover, occasionally fighting local gang members and helping old ladies cross the street. It was $10 hotel rooms with no cable and one open toilet. Everyone had seen everyone naked, or close to it, but it was no longer something to be embarrassed about. It was all about getting through another day. Sometimes we split up, when there were tight border controls or more armed policemen than usual. Wanda was with us, sometimes, but she often went dark on comms to spend time with Vision, which was still a very weird concept for me to understand.

Sometimes it was four people to one double bed. Sometimes it was two to a single, and two on the floor. Everyone took turns. The only alone time Steve and I had was if we, by luck, got two rooms instead of one. But even then, it was a blessing just to hold each and fall asleep, instead of having Sam's foot in your face or Natasha's bony elbow in your ribs.

Of course, T'Challa has offered to house all of us in Wakanda for as long as we wanted. But I speak for all of us when I say we still wanted to help, to protect, even if it was from the shadows, away from the light.

I thought about Tony a lot. Most days, actually. What he was doing, what he was thinking. Did he pick up the phone, like I did, and almost call the number? Did he stare at my name, and wonder, that even if he did call, would I pick up? There was a phone in Steve's backpack. A flip one. Old, but reliable. The paint on the outside was worn from where I slid it over and over in my hands, waiting for a call that never came.

"Right, we are done." Kaitlyn wiped away the blood and ink and smiled. "Oh, I so want to take a photo. But I can't, can I?" She looked shyly at me. I knew she shouldn't. Kaitlyn had kept my identity a secret while she worked on my piece, but I knew she was proud of her work and would want to show it off. If she posted it online, it would immediately be flagged and our location known. I waved a hand.

"It's fine. Take a photo. Post it on Instagram. Tell everyone you tattooed the Princess of Wakanda." I winced as Kaitlyn wrapped plastic film around my arm, sealing the ink in. Her face lit up.

"But won't they," she lowered her voice to a soft whisper. "Won't they come after you?" I laughed.

"They're always gonna come after me. You might as well get some internet success from it."

I called Sam as I walked out the door into the sweet smell of afternoon Monaco. Natasha was waiting in a stolen car outside the tattoo studio for me.

"Hey, Sam you and Steve at the motel?"

"Sure am, pickle," Sam answered straight away, chewing on something that sounded suspiciously like Fruit Loops.

"Pack up the stuff. We gotta move."

"Why? What happened?" Sam sounded concerned.

"I blew cover. In about 20 minutes ops are gonna be crawling all over this city." I hopped in the car and gestured for Natasha to drive. She gave me a stern look but complied.

"Nothing bad, we're fine. I may have told the tattoo artist she could post about me on Instagram."

Sam laughed and I heard a muffled voice in the background.

"What did she do? Is she ok?" Steve sounded even more concerned than Sam. It made my heart flutter, a tiny bit.

"Yeah, she's fine, blew our cover though so we gotta move." There was a groan and I could imagine Steve throwing his arms up in the air.

"Sorry to ruin your day boys." I said through gritted teeth. Natasha was a, intense driver to say the least.

"Ah, we've been here too long. I won't miss this rat infested room anyway. Meet you normal place?" Sam said. I cleared my throat.

"Of course. Be there in five." 

Authors Note

So, here is the first chapter of The Inbetween! Please comment your thoughts, I love to hear them! Hopefully updates will be more regular in the next few weeks, I am slowly catching up!

Stay groovy,

~JJ