A Funny Thing Happened During The Battle of New York

i.

My therapist said writing things down would help me process my trauma. So here I am sitting in my tiny apartment writing on the flesh of dead trees.

Yea this seems very helpful.

I'm not entirely sure what trauma she wants me to work through. Compared to others, I didn't really suffer all that badly. Sure I got a few bumps and bruises, and a pretty nice cut on my face. But I'm hole, and I'm healthy, so I don't really see the issue.

Besides something positive did come out of surviving a bunch of Aliens deciding to attack New York.

I met Captain America.

He's actually the reason I'm not worse off than I am.

He dropped into my life with a BANG. And I mean that literally. Both the dropping and the banging.

There I was minding my business, bussing tables in the coffee shop. Then suddenly—I'm on my back—with 200+lbs of Super Soldier on top of me.

I had heard the rumors about him. Getting found in the Ice after decades of frozen slumber. Like some kind of tragic fairy tale. I never in my life expected to actually come in contact with him.

But there he was, alive and HEAVY—on top of me.

The security footage Manny was able to pull of his crash through the window is—in retrospect—hilarious.

He comes out of no-where, smashing through the large picture window at the front of the shop. Gosh flying everywhere. People screaming and running. Like some sort of ninja he adjusts in the air before colliding with me; but he somehow angles that giant frisbee of his so that I land on top of it (saving me from further injury) and he lands on top of me.

I remember blinking wide-eyed up at him.

His lips were moving like he was speaking to me, but I couldn't hear a thing over all the screaming and noise suddenly flooding the tiny coffee shop.

I was probably in shock now that I think about it.

I just nodded dumbly as he lifted off of me with a grace no one of his considerable musculature should be able to. His body was covered in the Stars and Stripes, though he was grimy and covered in dust and dirt (and some odd substance I didn't want to even begin to try to determine its origins) he looked larger than life and heroic.

He held out a fingerless glove clad hand to me and lifted me like I weighed nothing. His grip was gentle, my hands tiny in his. Those same hands steadied me as I wobbled, one on either shoulder.

"You gonna be ok Ma'am?" He asked. My ears has stopped ringing at this point and I finally heard him. I lifted my hand to the cut on my cheek that had begun to sting.

His voice was deeper than I expected, a subtle Brooklyn accent lilting the syllables.

"I think so." I forced out. His striking blue eyes searched my face from behind the cowl he wore. He seemed to want to say something else. Movement outside caught my attention. Some kind of horrifying creature stepped through the broken window frame, a giant weapon held in its clawed hands.

He moved swiftly, throwing his shield faster than I could blink, knocking the creature back out and across the street. His shield rebounded back to him with a metallic TWANG and then he turned his eyes finding mine again.

"I aughta' get back out there. Everyone should find somewhere safe. Don't go out on the streets." He commanded.

I nodded watching him turn and exit the coffee shop.

He turned one more time, his eyes lingering on my shell shocked expression.

"Sorry about the window!" He called and then he was gone.

Manny gathered all the customers still in the shop together and took them back out the kitchen to the alley that lead out to the subway. He came back to find me standing in the rubble of the broken window, looking out at the street.

I found myself wondering if the Spangled Man (I was still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I learned about him in school) would be ok.

Was he fighting more of those scary lizard things? Was he crashing through more windows? Did he have help? Or was he all alone fighting to protect an entire city?

Manny's hand on my shoulder forced me out of my rapid doom spiraling.

"Let's go chica." He said urging me out the back to follow the others.

"That was Captain America." I said still in a daze.

"Yep."

...

The Stark Foundation set up some kind of fancy relief fund to help aid people effected during the attack. Which is how I wound up with a therapist who thinks writing down my feelings is a way to process "my ordeal" (her words not mine).

Manny basically forced to seek that part of the funding after I dropped to the ground when he placed a spoon a bit to hard into the sink in his kitchen.

Apparently you can still get PTSD after being rescued by a Super Soldier.

The jury is still out on whether this is actually helping.

I don't feel any different. I still find myself glancing out the window every few minutes expecting a giant worm hole to be staring back at me.

Shit.

I wonder how Tony Stark is doing.

Oh yea that reminds me. Come to find out....Steve wasn't alone after all. Which made me feel marginally better as I watched the news coverage after the attack ended. Apparently there's a whole crew of super people that the government threw together to stand up against the crazy Norse God from Space and his army of ugly lizard people.

THE Iron Man was included in the team.

I met Tony Stark once. Well, met is maybe a stretch. He almost ran me over with his fancy sports car while I was on my way to work.

Honestly, it was mostly my fault. I have a bad habit of wearing my headphones while I walk.

Manny said I'd probably go deaf from the volume I use.

But jokes on you dude! My hearing is great!

Where was I going with this?

Oh yea. It remains to be seen whether this journal.....diary...... or whatever it is actually does anything other than keep me occupied for a few hours after dinner every night.

We get to go back to the coffee shop tomorrow to check out the damage and see what we can do to start opening back up.

Manny is ecstatic  about the possibility of Tony Stark coming by the shop for repairs. I told him there was no way the billionaire  was going to personally be doing repair work.

But he insisted when he spoke to the rep for the Stark Foundation Fund ( apparently regular old property insurance doesn't cover damage done by Space Invaders) that they assured him the repairs would be done by the best. I tried to tell him that doesn't mean anything TONT STARK, but he wouldn't hear it.

Should be interesting in any case.

Anyways. My cat is giving me the stink eye. I should probably go feed the little cretin.

Until next time I guess.

I don't really know how to end this.

So. Bye....

-Wren