Childhood Hero: Return of the Redbird (Captain America Story)

Chapter 6- Half of Me

"What's gotten into you?" I ask her, hurt by what she's just said. "Are you under a spell or hypnosis? Has HYDRA brainwashed you?"

"No." She shakes her head, her brown hair swishing around on her shoulders. "I've just finally realised what an idiot I've been."

She walks past me, and I turn and watch as she picks up the two suitcases.

"I've only taken my clothes." Zoey tells me, "You can have the rest. I don't want it anymore."

She nods to the living room.

"All the Captain America merchandise I had when I was a kid is on the couch." She says simply, "It's trash to me. Thought you'd might like to keep it, though."

"Zoey." I say quietly, taking a step towards her, but she ignores my voice.

"I must say." She says with a pissed off tone, looking around the apartment. "You've certainly let the place go a bit."

"Well, I was worried about my girlfriend being dead or tortured." I reply nervously, "I didn't do a lot of cleaning these past three months."

"No?" She looks me, "Then what were you doing?"

"I was looking for you." I tell her, meeting her gaze.

"Really?" She says sarcastically, "Well, you mustn't have looked far enough."

"Zoey, is that what this is about?" I ask desperately, "Is that why you're acting like this?"

"You didn't find me." She says fiercely, "I got myself out of there, I saved myself from death and torture."

"Zoey." I take another step towards her, and she lowers her gaze. "Please, don't do this. We'll work this out. I love you."

"No, Steve." Her voice turns quiet, and I take another step, our bodies mere inches apart.

I breath down on her head, and she slowly raises it to look up at me.

"Why not?" I ask her, "What happened to you in Russia?"

She doesn't reply, and something catches my eye.

She's changed her hair, her brown locks now cut into a blunt fringe just above her eyes.

I reach up, gently brushing the hair away from her face.

"Steve-" Her protests are feeble, and my breathing falters as a thick, jagged scar appears on the top of her forehead, running just below the left side of her hairline.

"Zoey." I swallow, unable to speak as my mind swims with all the horrors that she had to go through.

"You see." She says in a hollow voice, stepping away from me. "I saved myself before they could kill me. I didn't need you, and I dont now."

"Don't do this to me." I beg, "I can't live without you; you're half of me."

"Not anymore." She puts down a suitcase and reaches into her pocket, producing her apartment keys.

She sets them down on the small table by the door, looking up at me.

"Goodbye, Steve." She says, turning and walking out of the door.

I stand there, watching the empty space for a few minutes, before blinking and coming to my senses.

"Zoey!" I shout, rushing down the stairs and out into the street, desperately looking around for a glimpse of long brown hair, but she is nowhere to be seen.

She's gone.

~ ~ ~

Zoey's POV

I dump my things on the bed in the room, wiping a hand over my face.

The window overlooks a quiet Mnahattan street, the residential area not as busy as the shopping and business district.

"Do you need anything at the moment?" A young blonde woman walks into the room.

I turn around and look at her, smiling politely.

"No, thank you." I tell her, "I've got everything I need."

"Just shout if you do!" She smiles, leaving the room once again.

I sigh and look back down at the street, so far away from my old apartment.

Penny owns the small motel that I've taken refuge in, and has kindly found me a room.

I saved her life in the war against Loki, and she got in touch with me last year.

She was so kind about the short notice for a place to stay for a couple of days, and she doesn't ask any questions, for which I'm grateful.

I can't handle any questions just now.

I look around the large room; a double bed, a desk, two bedside tables and a chest of drawers, all deep oak. A little bathroom is behind one door and a small kitchen space with a sink, a microwave and a coffee maker is situated in a corner of the room.

The place is calm, peaceful, but I can't stop the anxiety that bubbling up inside of me.

My hands are shaking as I walk over to the bed, turning away from it and falling backwards onto the covers.

I sigh and look up at the ceiling, blinking a few times.

"I don't know what I'm doing." I say to the quiet room, my throat catching on the last word. "What do I do?"

I roll over and bury my face in a pillow, breathing in the comforting smell of fresh linen and clean sheets.

"It going to be okay." I whisper as my hands finally begin to calm, "You're going to be all right."

I lie there for a few minutes, before lifting my face from the pillow, wiping my eyes on my sleeve.

I look to a mirror on the wall, noting how red my eyes seem.

I climb off the bed, grabbing my makeup bag out of my suitcase.

I quickly put some concealer and eye shadow over my eyes, masking that fact that I've just had a freak out.

I tie my hair back, leaving the fringe hanging over my eyes.

No fucking way would I ever go out in public with it pinned back.

I grab a jacket and my purse and phone, before leaving the room, locking it behind me with the set of keys Penny gave me in the lobby.

I head down the stairs, only needing to take four flights, and walk out ontot he quiet street.

I breathe in the fresh air, before taking off at a brisk walk.

I unwrap my earphones from around my phone, putting them in my ears as I get closer to the CBD.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night." The soft lyrics take me by surprise. I wasn't expecting such true lyrics at the moment.

I make it to the busy streets of Manhattan, blending into the crowd, like a normal person; somebody who wakes up in the morning without any fears of death or injury, and doesn't fear for the safety of everyone they know.

"Take these broken wings and learn to fly." I look around at the people nearby, leading such simple, easy lives.

A woman is leaning against a tree, chatting with her girlfriends, the four of them all laughing loudly together.

I could have a life like that carefree, that happy. I'd be good at it, I'd like it.

"All your life, you were only waiting for this moment to arise." I stop in front of a lively coffee shop, a little sign taped on the window.

WAITERS NEEDED

ENQUIRE WITHIN

I yank the earphones out, pocketing my phone before entering the shop.

- - -

WINTER SOLDIER STORYLINE COMING V SOON.