You keep your tears hidden in the corners of your eyes. At least until the elevator doors close. As soon as they do, you let out a pained gasp.
"Fuck," you whimper, grabbing the wall for balance as your other hand flies to the back of your neck. The ghost of Loki's iron grip has left a searing sting behind. And when you pull your fingers away, they're stained by tiny flecks of blood from where the angry, raven-haired God had ripped your hair out by the roots.
The tears of pain you had concealed finally slip from their hidden places, tumbling down your cheeks as your skull pounds.
"And what makes you think I'll be here long enough to get through them, darling?"
Loki's voice echoes in your aching head. And you try to ignore the illogical disappointment that gnaws at you as you recall how the term of endearment had dripped so thickly sweet from his tongue. You try to forget how it had sent a thrilling buzz up your spine - one that blossomed into something warm and soft in your chest. Loki hadn't intended anything by it.
Darling.
Yet he had said it so effortlessly that for a moment, you thought he might have meant it. That you might have been making progress. That he might have appreciated your gesture of kindness, and had started to see you as something other than 'human' or 'mortal'.
But the tears on your cheek born from the pain in your skull reminds you otherwise.
I was stupid, you think to yourself, angrily wiping your tears away with the sleeve of your tac suit. Being kind won't work.
When the elevator doors finally open back on the common room level, your eye immediately catches Steve's. He stands awkwardly at the kitchen table, elbow-deep in a giant, plastic tub of cheese puffs. You quickly look away and keep your head down as you head for your room, hoping that Steve is too busy fishing for snacks to notice you. But footsteps from behind tell you that, much to your chagrin, Steve has abandoned his cheese puffs.
"Hey, Y/n," he calls out.
You bite back an irritated groan and paint a smile on your face. "What's up?" you ask, stopping just short of the bedroom door you've already pulled halfway open.
"You looked upset coming off the elevator," he says, rubbing his hands together to knock off as much cheese dust as he can. "Everything okay?"
"Yeah," you shrug. "Why wouldn't it be?"
"Because you were just on Loki's floor," sings Natasha as she slips out of her room - the one right next door to yours. "He tends to make things not okay," she says, her gaze searching your face as she leans against the wall.
"You were on the secure floor?" Steve questions, casting you a concerned glance.
You ignore Steve. "How could you possibly know I was up there?" you ask, instead challenging Natasha. She eyes you up and down, arching an obvious brow. "Oh," you say, looking down at your own body. "Right, the tac gear."
"Wait, were you alone?" Steve frowns, hands perched on his hips as leftover cheese dust leaves smudged, orange fingerprint stains on the bottom of his white t-shirt.
"No, Steve," you shoot back, rolling your eyes. "Tony knew I was going up there."
"And he let you go? Alone?" Steve questions. "
"God, Steve, relax," you huff. "I wasn't by myself. Thor was with me."
"Thor left ten minutes ago," Natasha chimes in, picking at her nails as if bored.
"So you were up there alone!" Steve accuses.
"Not the whole time!" you sigh, exasperated. "It was like, maybe five minutes. Would everyone calm down? It's not a big deal!"
"Had to have been at least ten," Natasha chimes in.
You shoot her a glare, but she just shrugs as Steve furrows his brow. "He's dangerous," Steve scolds. "You should wait for backup, Y/n."
"You know, Steve," you frown. "It's kind of hard to take you seriously with cheese dust all over your face."
Natasha slaps a hand over her mouth, stifling a laugh as Steve's ears go pink. "All I'm trying to say," he says, using the back of his hand to wipe away the lingering cheese puff residue from the corner of his mouth. "Is that I know you're in charge of questioning Loki. But...it might not be a good idea for you to go up there alone."
"Oh yeah?" you challenge dismissively, pulling open the door to your quarters the rest of the way. "You gonna protect me from the big bad god, Steve?"
"Well, yeah," Steve says softly, casting you a sad smile. "If I have to, of course."
Caught off guard by Steve's response, you fumble with the handle of your door and it slips from your hand, sliding closed. Natasha gives Steve a knowing look, and slinks back into her own room, leaving you and Steve alone in the hall. You blink a few times, at a loss for words. But Steve isn't offended by your silence. Instead, he catches the corner of your door and slides it back open, holding it for you.
"You don't have anything to prove, you know," Steve says, offering you a kind smile.
You press your lips together in a tight, thin line and keep quiet. Steve sighs and pulls the sleeve of his shirt over his hand, clutching the material in his fist as he reaches out and wipes away the tiny, stubborn tear still clinging to the side of your jaw. You hadn't felt it linger from earlier in the elevator.
"Did he hurt you?" Steve asks.
"No," you say stubbornly, ignoring the ache in your head.
Steve regards you for a moment. You wonder if he's going to push the issue, but thankfully he seems to decide otherwise. "Well, all right," he says. "In that case, just let me know next time you want some backup, okay?"
Steve lets the door slip past his fingertips, and as it slides closed you're immediately overwhelmed by a sense of regret. Guilt. You should have gone to Steve for help. Or to Natasha. Anyone, for that matter. But you hadn't. Why?
I don't trust them.
The realization startles you. But it echoes in painful honesty. Despite the month you've spent with the Avengers - and the friendships you've begun to cultivate - you still don't trust any of them enough to be your backup. They were never supposed to be your backup anyway. Phil was supposed to play that part. With him gone, you never tried to fill that role. Never wanted to. As a result, you've been keeping everyone else - Steve, Nat, Tony - at arm's length.
You hadn't even realized it until right now, with how Steve's soft, blue eyes held you in their compassionate, caring gaze. His words were unsolicited. They were undeserved.
You haven't earned them.
"Wait!" you call out, reaching for your door and sliding it back open. Steve - already almost down the hall - turns on his heel. He cocks his head, and watches with a curious stare as you take a few hesitant steps toward him. "You're wrong," you say, voice skipping across the marble floors filling the space between you. "I do have something to prove."
Steve's blue eyes flicker in confusion, but he stays quiet as you speak.
"I'm not an Avenger," you say. "But you train me like one. I'm not a friend. But you offer me advice like I am one. And I'm...I'm not family. But-," your voice wavers as you choke back emotion. "But you look out for me like maybe one day I might be," you say. "And I haven't done anything to earn that."
"Y/n," Steve says. "You don't have to-," you hold up a hand and Steve falls silent.
"I have to prove that I deserve all that," you interrupt firmly. "I have to prove I'm not just some...broken experiment. I'm more than that, Steve. I'm more than this one job. Than this one mission. HYDRA didn't think I could be, but...I can be more."
You fall silent, chest heaving in short, shallow pants as embarrassment catches up with you. Your cheeks start to warm as you realize what a ridiculous scene you've just caused. But before you can grow too mortified, Steve offers you an understanding smile.
"I filled out a questionnaire," he says.
You stare at him blankly. Confused. But Steve just laughs and shakes his head.
"That's how I got picked to be Captain America," he grins. "I volunteered for a secret project and then filled out a questionnaire. Twenty-six checkboxes later and they shoved me in a tube. I came out like this," he says, gesturing down at his body. "Then all of a sudden I was being handed things left and right that I didn't earn."
You take a moment to process, but find yourself scoffing at his ridiculous assertion. "Are you kidding?" you say. "If my middle school history text book was accurate, Steve, you jumped on a grenade."
"Oh sweet Mary and Joseph," Steve mumbles beneath his breath, rolling his eyes. "That's not...I didn't...well, I did, but that's not what I'm...okay, look," Steve stops, taking a breath and collecting himself. "You stayed."
"I'm sorry?" you question.
"You stayed, Y/n," Steve says. "You said you haven't proven yourself, but when you lost your friend, you stayed here to deal with the fallout when you could have walked away to grieve. Or to do anything else that didn't remind you of what you had lost. But you didn't. You stayed. That wasn't easy. I know...I've been there."
"But Steve," you argue. "That wasn't-,"
"And then," Steve continues, talking over your objection. "You never hesitated - not for a second - to face what could have been a dangerous situation. And you didn't hesitate because you knew it had to be done. Because it was the right thing to do. That's why you have nothing to prove. You've already done it. And I'd say it shows that you're a heck of a lot more than that three-page file SHIELD sent our way."
You gawk at Steve, who offers you a warm, but almost sad, smile.
"Listen," he says, reaching for the back of his neck as his tone turns almost shy. "I think you're pretty tough. Sure, you've got room to grow. But, if you think you can handle Loki, then I believe you. Just...don't hesitate to ask us for help if you need it."
At a loss for words, you simply watch Steve as he starts heading once more toward the kitchen. But he hesitates before disappearing around the corner, taking one final glance back.
"You're not just an experiment," he says. "S'pecially not a broken one." You inhale sharply, tears pricking like needles around your eyes. "It's easy to pretend to be what people call us," Steve sighs. "Doesn't mean that's who we are. The people who matter will be able to see that."
Your stomach twists as Steve gives you a final smile and disappears into the kitchen. You swallow the lump in your throat and retreat into your quarters as Steve's words echo in your head. And you realize with stunning clarity that he's right.
And not just about you.
From the beginning you've only been told one thing about Loki - that he's hellbent on domination. That he's dangerous. That he can't be trusted.
Maybe that's all anyone has ever told him, too.
Maybe those feelings of loneliness, isolation, and betrayal that you had sensed inside him mean there's more to his story than people say. And maybe that unexpected flash of memory - of that long, golden hair and kind blue eyes - points to a softer, kinder past. A past long before he was told just how cruel and deceitful he was.
I was wrong, you think. Kindness will work. It's the only thing that will work.
Inexplicably relieved, you resign yourself to trying again tomorrow...and praying that Steve doesn't tell Tony you had been up in the tower by yourself.