The First One Without You

An early riser.

That's what she'd always been.

The only one who'd be awake at the stroke of dawn, to make sure that she was as happy as she could be. She'd get dressed, clean herself up in the bathroom and make sure she was ready to combat the day ahead. When she was getting ready for a day at the diner, there were only ever two things that crossed her mind. She loved the atmosphere of the place, with the radio playing songs that made people laugh or cry. It was a sanctuary in a way, for her.

It helped that the people were of an... interesting variety. The people she worked with for a start. Angie Martinelli for example. She was... a loudmouth, to put it nicely. She could keep a conversation running, it didn't matter how dead it was. She was a little bit of a gossip and could be quite dirty minded, but she was so much fun to be around. Angie'd been trying to find a significant other for her for so long, but she just didn't have the time or effort to deal with it.

Especially now that...

She didn't even have the strength to think of him.

I miss you. I love you.

The second phrase there meant the most to her, because it didn't matter how far apart they were, they'd always reside in each other's hearts. The bond they had was... incomparable.

The telegram's words were still engraved into her head, but for now she just wanted them pushed away to the dark closet of her mind.

Tears would have sprung to her eyes if she'd picked up the note and read it again, but she shook her head and stopped them. She'd cried so much over the last three days and she just needed a break. She needed to enjoy a day. It was all she was asking for. Today was almost a holiday for her, and she just wanted to enjoy it. How she was going to do that, she had no clue. Not without them here.

She sighed and walked to the bathroom, grabbing a wipe and dabbing at her eyes.

You don't need to cry anymore. Just go to work and distract yourself from the grief. It'll help.

She solemnly swore to do that. She couldn't let herself be overridden with grief again. She smiles into the mirror, her gap on display. The memory would always be warm in her heart, not unlike the warmth of the blood in her mouth immediately afterwards.

Steve had gotten into a fight he couldn't handle.

Again.

She loved Rogers, she really did, but she could do without him getting beat up every other week. She then shook her head and corrected her error. Every other day.

He was on the floor, a nose bleeding like no tomorrow and you could see the beginnings of a bruise around his left eye. She sighed, conflicted between wanting to help him and the other option. Letting him suffer so he'd learn to stop bloody getting into unnecessary fights.

Sadly, her kind heart gave in and she decided to help the poor kid.

"Steve, what have you been up to, you idiot."

He chuckles dryly, then a brief groan. "Oh you know, kicking ass."

"I'm pretty sure that your ass is the one that got kicked!" You retort back, and he just stays quiet, knowing there isn't a point denying what's true. "You're so lucky that I'm helping you, I swear to god."

"I know." He blushes. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She mutters, while grabbing a rag out of her bag. She was a nurse and knew how to help, but she didn't like the fact he was so dependant on her coming to help him out. Today she wasn't even meant to be here. She was meant to be on the other side of Brooklyn, assisting her boss Mr Taylor with some finances. They were going to go to his office, but he'd been forced to come home early - his wife was 7 and a half months pregnant, so when he got the call, he ran out without a second thought - leaving her free to do what she pleased.