"is that what you see when
you look at me? a threat?"
"do you think i'd be here
trying to save you if i did?"
always the risk taker, willow rogers finds herself juggling the consequences of taking it too far when she realizes the god of mischief is...
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Crunch!
Natasha watched as the shot glass broke, the pieces scattering across the counter haphazardly and joining what seemed like an already sizable pile on the other side of Steve's arm.
The super soldier reached over the counter for another glass and poured himself a drink from the half empty bottle of scotch he was holding in his other hand. Natasha had only come out of her room in the middle of the night to drink her own troubles away until she'd found Steve all alone—he had stormed off in a silent rage after what happened with Willow and no one had seen him since. Now, hours later, he was leaning against the bar, dazed and in his own world as his finger absently circled the rim of his glass.
"Did you see the way she looked at me?" He suddenly croaked, clutching his glass tightly.
"Like she didn't even care. Like I didn't matter to her."
"You know that's not true," she said gently.
Steve glanced at her.
"What did you see?"
"I saw a young woman defending someone...someone she trusted. A young woman with the same values, the same morals, the same beliefs as you."
"You don't know her like I do."
"True," she shrugged, "but I've been trained to know when someone's lying to me."
"And...you think she's right?"
"It doesn't matter what I think."
Natasha grabbed a bottle of vodka and disappeared down the hallway, leaving Steve to his own thoughts, none of which he considered to be clear enough to understand. It wasn't that he was drunk—something he couldn't achieve no matter how much alcohol he consumed—but his state of mind was scrambled and disorderly to the point that all he wanted to do was stop thinking.
About S.H.I.E.L.D., HYDRA, Bucky, Willow.
Steve pushed back his stool and went to sit at the couch facing the gigantic glass windows displaying a breathtaking sight of a glittering city come to life. The moon hung low in the sky, a sliver of light that shone with faded illuminance.
He could have stayed there forever.
The man didn't bother acknowledging whoever had come to sit next to him as the couch slightly dipped when they clinked their glass impatiently against the scotch bottle he was still holding.
"Care to help a pal out?"
Steve looked at Tony for a second before leaning over and pouring him a drink, setting the bottle down on the table in front of him as he sipped at his own glass. The bitter taste gave him such a brief buzz, one he'd chased time and time again with no success.
