I'd Love It If We Made It

THREE

This has to be the most awkward of a silence I've ever experienced.

I mean in the history of all awkward silences myself or anyone else for that matter have ever experienced in their lifetime, this silence takes the cake.

After hobbling down the hallway and clumsily lowering myself back onto the couch, Steve had taken a seat in the small lounge chair on the opposite side of the coffee table. Neither of us had spoken a word since. We were just sitting there, occasionally making eye contact only for Steve to look away taking apparent interest in the cracked wood floors of my apartment. I suppose he was waiting for me talk first, but that wasn't going to happen. I know I said I'd hear the guy out and I will, but I have no intention of making this any easier on him.

He looks so uncomfortable, sitting there, fidgeting in his seat. I'm not to proud to admit, I'm enjoying seeing him squirm a little. After all, if it wasn't for him I'd still have a job I loved, not to mention two working legs.

Eventually, the silence becomes so prolonged that Steve breaks it, clearing his throat loudly.

"How's your ankle?" His eyes travel down to the brace around my foot, and then back up to meet mine.

"Broken." I answer, plainly.

His cheeks turn pink, ever so slightly. If we hadn't just been sitting here across from each other I probably wouldn't have noticed the difference.

"Sorry about that. There were..." He shifts again in his seat as he looks for the end of his sentence. "extenuating circumstances."

"I know." I laugh, hollowly. "I've been stuck on a couch for three weeks, and you think I haven't watched the news?"

The story had been all over every channel for the past two weeks. The Black Widow, Natasha Romanoff, had worked with the man currently sitting in my living room to take down H.Y.D.R.A., a terrorist organization that infiltrated S.H.I.E.L.D, the very government organization they worked for.

It hadn't been hard to connect the dots after I'd seen the footage. He had clearly needed his suit to expose the organization for what it was, to save the innocent lives H.Y.D.R.A. threatened. I don't know who or what he worked for now. To my knowledge, S.H.I.E.L.D had been disbanded. I guess he was probably jobless now too. That's probably why he had time for taking trips to the museum and making house calls in the middle of a work day.

"Well if you know then you can understand, surely." He reasons.

"No, I don't understand, and don't call me Shirley." I reply, taking the time to peel off the wrapper of the Milky-Way he had brought me.

"(Y/n)." His eyes narrow.

"Cap." I deadpan, taking a bite of the chocolate.

"I think we're past the point of you calling me Cap." He grumbles, starting to sound annoyed. "It's Steve."

"I don't think we need to be on a first name basis." I answer once I've finished chewing, then add. "Cap."

He groans, standing up from the chair and pacing slightly, obviously frustrated.

"Look." He sighs, trying to keep his tone calm in spite of the fact that my stubbornness is eating away at his nerves, slowly ticking him off. "I'm not happy with the way I left things. I'm just trying to find a way to make it right. Couldn't you at least try to cooperate?"

"Cooperate?" I scoff. "Are you serious?"

I toss the candy bar onto my side table, too annoyed for chocolate. Well, too annoyed for chocolate that from him anyway.

The truth is, I don't blame him for taking the suit. I get why he did what he did, I understand why it was necesarry. I just don't understand why what he did to me was also 'necesarry'. I'm not going to accept his lame ass sort of apology just to ease his conscience. If I did, then what's stopping him from going on and doing this to another innocent person. For all I know, he's already done this to other people. I'm not going to let the fact that he's Captain America wither my resolve. We all have to draw the line somewhere. This is where I draw mine, in thick, dark, permanent ink.