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02 | free shelter courtesy of bruce

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free shelter courtesy of bruce

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Steve Rodgers walked away from the previous encounter slightly confused. When he'd bumped into the girl, he was on his morning run, and truly wasn't looking where he was going, which resulted in the almost-fall that he'd saved her from.

Cara, he thought, turning her name over and over in his mouth, testing it out. What an interesting name.

When Avengers Tower came into view, he slowed down from a sprint to a slow jog--at least for him--and made his way to meet his family of friends waiting inside, and most likely just waking up.

Sure enough, only Clint was awake, and just barely. Mid-yawn when Steve stepped into the kitchen, he mumbled a greeting to his friend before sitting down to shovel cereal into his mouth.

"Morning," he said, "how'd you sleep?"

"Fine, Mom," Clint grumbled, rubbing his eyes. "I was dreaming, and then I woke up to hear you reciting the Pledge of Allegiance, loud and proud like you do every freaking morning."

Steve knew his friends liked to tease him about his patriotism, but he didn't mind. He was just fine with his habits, it was what he believed in. So he left it be.

"Just being a loyal American," he replied, and grabbed his piece of toast that popped out of the toaster, lathering it with butter, and strolled out the room.

An unrecognizable mumble just reached Steve's ears before he turned the corner, entering another hallway. Nat flashed her usual grimace at him as they passed, and he headed over to the main living space, where a wall of windows greeted him.

Taking a deep breath, he stared out at the open space and took a bite of the browned bread, savoring the salty butter that spread itself on his tongue.

"Cara," he said, repeating the girl's name, "Cara, Cara, Cara..."

He didn't know exactly why his mind wouldn't let the encounter go to rest, when there were so many things to think about. Like what kind of enemy to the Avengers would show up(he didn't doubt the possibility of it happening). But the young girl that bumped into him had struck a chord with him. Not in a bad way, just in a way that made him think about her more than she was probably doing to him. There was a look in her eyes, one that told him a million indecipherable stories, too many at one time to understand. She was intriguing, that was for sure. He just had to keep looking for her, and find out her story. Something in his subconscious told him that he could help her. And as America's Super Soldier, he was determined to do so.

-

Cara practically skipped down the street towards the apartment building. It was away from the heavily populated downtown area, which proved to be good in her eyes. This should be perfect, she thought. Just perfect. Her hair blew in front of her face, temporarily skewing her line of sight. With one hand, she could see clearly again, and rushed into the building, stepping right up to the front desk.

"Hi, I'm here about the vacancies? Is there room for me?" She asked kindly, staring down at the older woman behind the desk.

"Of course, there is always room here at the Applewood Apartment Complex. Room 4c was just vacated and cleaned this morning. It has a beautiful view of downtown in the distance, how does that sound, hon?" The receptionist was polite as she spoke slowly, making sure Cara understood everything that was said.

"4c? Yeah, sure. That sounds good," she answered, a little distracted as she saw a man stumble into the reception of the building, carrying a few bags of luggage.

"Oh, Bruce, is there anything else I can help you with? I thought you were gone this morning," the woman said to him.

He nodded, looking tired. "I left a few things here, and asked for my key to get in and grab them. But I'm out now," he added hastily, shifting the bags in his hands.

"Oh, okay," the receptionist, Clare, as Cara peered at the name tag, answered, only slightly perplexed. But after only a few moments, she turned her attention back to the teenage girl in front of her. "Now, I'm going to have to get some money from you before you get the key, mkay, honey?" She smiled sweetly, but it faltered as she saw Cara's worried expression. "What is it?"

"Nothing," she shook her head, "it's just...I don't have any money with me. Only a few bucks." She looked down at the floor.

"Oh, I'm--I'm sorry, dear, but I'm afraid I can't help you, if that's the case. I hope you find your way, though."

"Yeah," Cara mumbled, "me too." She leaned down to collect her cinch sack, but not before turning around to see that man, Bruce, staring sadly at her.

"Here," he said before the gaze got awkward. "This was going to be for this month, but then...here, just take it." He shoved it in her direction, but she politely declined.

"No, I can't take that, I'd feel too guilty. I'll be okay, I'll find somewhere else to live." She shook her head.

"What, like a park bench?"

"What?"

"It was a joke...um, never mind." Bruce looked at his feet, but the wad of money was still thrust out in her direction, the offer still standing.

Well, I need a place to live, and if he's generous enough to give me money, then I may as well take it, right? Cara pondered the possibilities before cautiously taking the cash from his hand. "Thank you so much," she gushed, "how can I ever thank you?"

"Uh, no need, just enjoy the new place." The stranger-turned-temporary-benefactor, Bruce, left the building before any more conversation could take place.

Cara turned back to the receptionist, holding up the money. "Does this work?"

She nodded, and the teen slapped it on the counter.

Alrighty, she thought with a smile, sign me up for apartment 4c. Thanks, Bruce, whoever you are.