Steve shut off his motorcycle and dismounted before entering the parking lot behind his apartment building. He did not want to risk waking his neighbors at this late hour. He knew that the twins' bedroom window, in particular, faced this way, and the engine of his Harley-Davidson could be quite loud even while idling. Steve grimaced as he walked the bike to the space that Pops had set aside for him in the garage. A pain shot up his left arm and lingered in his shoulder as he did this, the result of being knocked against a wall when an unexpected explosion erupted during that night's mission. The grimace pulled on the few stitches that had been sewn into the end of his eyebrow to close a cut; another souvenir from the eventful evening. Steve touched his fingers to the wound. Finding that there was no blood escaping onto his fingertips, he shut the garage door and locked it. Steve unhooked his shield from his back harness to carry it in his good arm as he headed around the corner to the apartment residents' entrance.
He climbed the stairs slowly, trying not to let his heavy footsteps make too much noise, but fighting his oncoming weariness proved to make that much more difficult than it needed to be. Steve lost his battle with a yawn as he ascended the last staircase on his journey to the third floor. It's been a while since I've felt this tired, Steve thought as he reflected on his very long day, But I have been awake for almost twenty hours... The night had seemed to catch up with him sometime during the mission debriefing back at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters within the Triskelion. He had almost dozed off during Clint's report of his secondary team's actions. At the present moment, the thought of sleep could not be more welcomed.
Steve reached the third-floor landing and made to turn right towards his apartment, but stopped short. Sitting there on the floor was Liz, her back against his apartment door and her computer in her lap. He furrowed his eyebrows as she looked up at him suddenly, "Liz?" Steve questioned, "What are you doing on the floor?" Steve watched as Liz's expression quickly turned into a deadly glare. She did not speak a word. What on earth has her looking so cross? Steve thought to himself, but his quickening heart rate suggested that he might already know...
Liz released the dog tags that she had been holding near her chin. They clinked lightly, falling onto her chest as she pushed one of the many buttons on her computer and spun it around so that Steve could see the screen. Steve instantly found himself reliving the key moments of tonight's events. He saw Captain America fully suited, shielded, but (most importantly) without his helmet as he guided civilians to safety from the smoking building. Steve saw his own face on the screen, sure as sunrise.
He looked away and closed his eyes as his heart pounded in his chest. She knew. She had seen everything before he had had his chance to tell her. Steve struggled to find words; he took a slow breath to compose himself. He opened his eyes and looked at Liz, her gaze piercing as she waited for him to respond.
"I can explain..." Steve said softly, trying to tread lightly, but he had lit a fuse.
"You can explain?" Liz said over the sound of the computer still playing the news report. She snapped the screen shut — silencing it — and stood up, holding the evidence to her chest tightly, "You can explain how you have been lying to me this whole time?" Liz's voice slowly began to rise in volume.
Steve gave a quick, nervous glance at Kate's door adjacent to his, then set his shield down in the corner against the other wall. He approached Liz at his door. "I understand you're upset, but let's talk inside," Steve said gently as he opened the door with his keys.
But Liz continued, "You understand I'm upset? Do you really? I thought we were friends, but now I find out you're freaking Captain America!" Liz was shouting now.
Steve picked up his shield from the floor, "Liz, please. Not here. Come inside," he urged as he gently, but firmly, ushered her into his apartment by placing his palm on the small of her back. Steve closed the door behind him and flipped on a light switch.
Liz continued her rant, waving one arm in the air for emphasis, "And you have Pops mixed up in all this S.H.I.E.L.D. cloak-and-dagger spy shit again. Do you realize how dangerous this is? He's the only family I have left, Steve!"
Steve almost replied with "Language!" out of the habit of what had become an ongoing joke between the two of them when dealing with Billy's foul mouth, but thought better of it. He met Liz's gaze. She could try to act tough as nails all she wanted, but Steve knew Liz well enough by now to know that her eyes always gave her away. He looked into her green irises and saw hurt, betrayal even. I caused this... The guilt that Steve had been trying to fight off since they had first met welled in the pit of his stomach, I need to fix this.
"I'm sorry," Steve began. Liz crossed her arms over the computer she still held and waited for him to continue, "You and Pops have gone out of your way to make me feel welcome and— a part of your family. And I have more to thank you for than you know. You deserve better." Steve watched as Liz's expression softened ever so slightly. She looked like she was about to say something, but Steve went on before she could, "I thought about telling you so many times, Liz," he said with so much sincerity that it began to ache in his chest.
"You should have," Liz mumbled stubbornly after a pause, turning her gaze away to the side. She motioned to wrap a stray strand of hair behind her ear, a nervous tic that Steve had begun to notice after only a few days of knowing her.
"I wanted to. But how do you even bring that up without people thinking that you're crazy? Captain America was dead... When we first met, I was a mess. I wasn't sure I— There was still a lot that I was trying to—" Steve paused for a moment to collect himself before falling further into a ramble. After another deep breath, he continued, "I needed time... Everything I had done before, it felt like it had all been for nothing. The fighting didn't stop. And if the world was hell-bent on destroying itself, what was the point of picking this back up?" Steve flashed the front of the shield towards Liz. He watched her eyes dart to it and linger there, "I wanted to have a chance at living the normal life I had been fighting to protect — for other people — the life that I had already died for. And when we first met, I— I didn't want to be Captain America. I just wanted to be Steve..."
There was quiet for a moment after Steve had finished venting. In spite of the situation, he felt relieved to finally be getting all of this off his chest. This was the first time he had really opened up about his feelings to anyone. More so than all of his sessions with Doctor Garner combined. Steve looked at Liz, hoping he could get her to understand.
Liz looked back at Steve, "What changed?" She asked softly.
There was an expression there he had not seen from her before. Pity? Steve did not like that notion. He had had enough of that before agreeing to Doctor Erskine's experiment.
It took Steve another moment to gather his thoughts, "You and Pops reminded me that if there are people that I can help, I need to— I want to help them. I'm — better equipped — than the average person when it comes to handling what you saw tonight. If going into a situation like that means that others don't have to, I'd rather it be me."
Liz looked like she was searching for something to say, so Steve waited.
"That's a reasonable answer..." Liz started after a moment. Her eyes drifted to the shield again. She seemed to clutch her computer tighter to her chest like a security blanket, "I guess I can understand why you kept it to yourself. But you told Pops and—"
"I didn't tell Pops," Steve furrowed his eyebrows, feeling tension on his stitches again, "He knew before I ever came here. I didn't even know that he knew about my past until a month ago."
"I guess you can take the agent out of S.H.I.E.L.D., but you can't take S.H.I.E.L.D. out of the agent..." Liz sighed, "But how is this even possible? You must be at least the same age as Pops, and— Oh my God, you're bleeding!" Liz had only looked from the shield back up to Steve midway through speaking. She set her computer down on the coffee table behind her in the living room before dashing to the kitchen.
Steve touched his fingers to his stitched eyebrow and saw that there was blood on them this time.
In an instant, Liz returned with a red case, "Sit down," she ordered after dragging Steve to the couch. He set the shield down to the side and did as he was told while Liz opened up the case that read First-Aid on top of the coffee table.
"Where did that come from?" Steve asked. He had never seen this item in his apartment before.
"In the cabinet under the sink. Seriously, have you ever even used your kitchen?" Liz asked as she gently started to pat Steve's temple and eyebrow with a piece of gauze.
Steve reached toward the kit for another piece to use to clean off his fingertips. "Just the refrigerator, and the microwave. That thing is amazing." Steve watched one of the corners of Liz's mouth turn up slightly then fall again like she was trying to hide a smile.
"I'm guessing you never had one of those before," Liz said nonchalantly as she discarded the used piece of gauze to the side.
Steve shook his head, "No, that's new technology for me."
After taking a new piece of gauze, some clear tape, and some scissors out of the first-aid kit, Liz sat down on the couch next to Steve. He watched as she cut a smaller square of gauze from a larger piece.
Liz turned to Steve, "Hold still," she instructed, delicately placing the small patch over his stitches. She held it there with one hand as she tore off a piece of the tape with the other.
"Thank you," Steve ventured softly.
"I'm afraid to ask how exactly this happened..." She mumbled as she began to secure the gauze in place.
Steve watched her as she worked. Liz's eyes glanced into his eyes a time or two, never lingering more than a fraction of a second. Her face still held a stern expression. Even when she's livid with me, she goes out of her way to help me.
He closed his eyes as her fingertips brushed lightly across his skin. He felt a thumb gently glide slowly over the medical tape now fixed to his temple as her palm rested on the side of his face. Steve found the sensation comforting and felt the tension in his body begin to subside. For a moment, Steve thought to the night that Liz had fallen asleep on his shoulder while watching a movie he had borrowed from Pops. When he felt her starting to shiver, Steve had put his arm around her without thinking. He had watched her for a while, amazed at how once again being close to her soothed the emotional tension he carried with him almost every day. He had been so at ease that night that he must have nodded off before the film had finished, as he could not recall the ending the following morning.
Liz repeated the stroking gesture a few more times. Steve exhaled slowly and opened his eyes when he felt himself begin to feel drowsy again and found Liz looking at him intently. Her thumb had stopped moving, and she was closer to him now, but he held her gaze.
Steve's heart began to beat faster in his chest again. Was she about to...? The question trailed off in his mind as a million arguments began firing off in the same second:
She's angry with me, so of course not.
But then why is she looking at me like that?
She cares about me. She's told me that.
But how much? Does she want me to kiss her?
Do I want me to kiss her?
Steve sat there paralyzed as he tried to muster up the courage to move one way or the other. He felt something start fluttering in his stomach and work its way up to his heart as he visualized the possibility. Maybe, I—, he cut off his mind as he leaned toward Liz a fraction of an inch.
In the same instant, Liz withdrew her hand and looked away. "I think that should hold for now," she stated briskly and immediately turned back to the coffee table to begin returning items to their proper place in the first-aid kit.
Way to go, you punk. You still know nothing about women, Steve berated himself as a slight sinking feeling hit his stomach. He had sensed the tension in her tone and interpreted it as her still being unwilling to forgive him. She needs to know she can still trust me. I need to make this right...
"Liz," Steve started cautiously. Liz continued to pack up the case in silence. Steve leaned forward and reached for her hand, "Lizzie, look at me," he pleaded. Liz had frozen for an instant when he touched her, but slowly she turned back to him, her hand still in his.
Steve paused for a moment before continuing, "Do you remember the other night when you told me that — if I wanted to — I could talk to you about things? Well, I— I do want to, if the offer still stands. We can talk about anything you want." He hoped that she would still be willing. Steve suddenly realized that he did not want to lose someone who had become such an integral part of his new life; a life he was not sure he would be handling nearly as well had it not been for either Liz or Pops.
Liz looked back at Steve with surprise, "Of course it still stands," as if the alternative were something ludicrous, "Steve, honestly, I'm just having a tough time wrapping my head around this. And feeling as if I've been intentionally deceived just does not sit well with me."
"I'm sorry..." Steve apologized quickly.
"I know, I just..." Liz sighed, withdrawing her hand from Steve's and averting her eyes, "I need you to help me make sense of this. Like, how are you even here right now? How is this even possible? Like you said before, Captain America was supposed to have died a long time ago. I don't remember immortality being one of your... powers."
"I was supposed to..." Steve admitted, his fingers suddenly feeling cool now that the warmth of Liz's hand was gone, "The story about putting that plane down in the ice is true."
Steve began to tell Liz about everything that had happened after he had been pulled out of the ice and how he had been told that the cold had caused something called 'suspended animation', allowing him to come out of it seemingly without aging a day, thanks to the high regeneration rate of the cells in his body. Sure, there was a good portion of it considered to be classified, but Steve knew that he could trust Liz. More importantly, he wanted her to trust him again, and that meant no more secrets. Pops had always told him that it was Steve's right to tell his story anyway. He told her how he had run from the staged hospital room, how he had not recognized the middle of Times Square, and how he came to take part in the Battle of New York.
"If you think that I reacted badly," Liz began with a smirk, "Wait until Billy and Emma find out you know Iron Man and Black Widow personally and have been holding out on them. They might not be as willing to forgive you as I am."
Steve smiled, "You forgive me, then?"
"Only if you promise to always be honest with me," Liz offered her condition.
"It's a deal," Steve replied with relief.
The two of them stayed up talking into the early hours of the morning. Really, it was Steve who did most of the talking while Liz listened intently, asking the occasional question. Steve told her what it was like growing up as a scrawny runt of a kid in Brooklyn. He told her about his parents and how they, like Liz's, had passed away too soon and showed her the few pictures he had left of them sitting in frames on his desk. He told her how Bucky had been the closest thing he had had to a brother, and Steve's only family after he had lost his mother. Steve even told her how he and Bucky had tried making it through art school before the war had broken out, at which point Liz insisted on seeing some of Steve's recent doodles he had let slip were stashed in his desk drawer.
Steve told Liz about his many failed attempts to enlist and being picked for Doctor Erskine's experiment and how his entire life had changed that fateful day of the Hydra attack just after the procedure. He told her about all the places he had visited during his tours with the USO as Captain America, and how he transformed that role with Peggy and Howard's help when Steve found out that Bucky had been taken hostage in Italy. Or worse, Steve thought to himself. He told her about the war, the Red Skull, and the Howling Commandos team, who had all become as close to him as family... And then he told her how Bucky died and how he still felt that there were so many things he could have done differently to prevent it.
"I'm sure you did everything you could, Steve," Liz assured him, though her eyes looked glassy as she blinked a few times.
Steve opened up to Liz about how after the Battle of New York, he took the time he needed to adjust in a secluded cabin in the forests of the Pacific Northwest; a S.H.I.E.L.D. safe house. Almost a year there had not done him much good, so Steve decided he needed to return to modern society, which is how he ended up in the Dolans' apartment building.
"Liz, I honestly can't thank you and Pops enough for everything," Steve reiterated, "Providing me a place to stay was more than enough, but you've helped me adjust to this century better than I thought I ever would."
"Honestly, I think you're doing pretty well at it. You know, for a senior citizen like yourself," Liz smirked again. Steve was glad that things seemed to be getting back to normal between them.
"It's not the years... It's the mileage," Steve smirked back, "Biologically, I'm only twenty-eight."
"Did you really just quote Indiana Jones?" Liz replied. Steve noticed her eyes glance behind him for half a second.
Steve raised his unbandaged eyebrow. "Is that a problem?" he asked. He thought it had been an appropriate reference.
"Not at all. I'm quite proud, actually," Liz assured, but her eyes drifted behind Steve again for a moment longer.
Steve replied, "Well, you did introduce it to me." He paused for a moment as he tracked Liz's eye line to the shield lying behind him to the side, propped up against the sofa. Steve picked it up and turned back to her with a smile, "You can hold it, if you want." Steve knew that the shield and the story behind it meant a lot to Liz and her family. It seemed to have inspired at least two generations to be willing to serve their country for the greater good.
Liz's eyes immediately lit up. "Really?" she asked timidly.
Steve gently handed it to her with a nod and a smile. The silver star flashed in the light as Liz took the shield and stood up, sliding her arm through the leather straps on the back. Steve had not seen her this excited since he had offered to take her for a ride on his motorcycle the other day. He remembered the feeling of her slender arms holding onto him and how they had tightened around his waist every time he made a turn. We should do that again, Steve thought as he yawned, fighting to keep his eyes open.
Liz turned to Steve with the front of the shield facing toward him, "It's a lot bigger and heavier than I would have thought," she commented, bringing him out of his musings.
"I think you're just small," Steve joked. The shield covered all of Liz's tiny torso easily.
Liz sighed loudly with mock exasperation, "Story of my life... Got any of that super juice left lying around that I could borrow?"
"Fresh out, I got the last of it," Steve's laugh turned into another yawn.
"Too bad," Liz stifled a yawn as well, handing the shield back to Steve, "It's getting pretty late... I think we both need to get some sleep." Liz collected her computer from the coffee table.
Steve nodded with a smile and set the shield to the side. He stood up from the couch and followed her to the door.
Liz opened the door. Before exiting, she turned back to Steve, "I'm sorry for freaking out before..." her voice trailed off as she pushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
"I'm sorry that I didn't tell you sooner," Steve replied with a half-smile.
Liz nodded with a small smile, "G'night, Steve."
"Goodnight, Liz." Steve watched Liz cross the hall to her own apartment, feeling his heart sink slightly as he watched her go. As exhausted as he was, Steve felt like he could have stayed up talking to her for hours more than they already had that night. He waited for her to close and lock her door before doing the same to his.
His apartment suddenly felt much emptier. Steve sighed as he flipped off the light and crossed his apartment to his bedroom. He changed into sleepwear quickly, eager to get into bed. He nearly collapsed onto the mattress. A huge weight felt like it had been lifted from Steve Roger's conscience as he drifted off to sleep.
* * * Author's Notes * * *
I know that it has been a very long time since the last update, and for that, I do apologize, but I really hope that the wait was worth it! My beta reader and I have both been very busy over the last two months, though admittedly I was also very nervous about this chapter as I consider it to be one of the more important parts of the story. I must have read it, re-read it, and edited it about a hundred times to be sure it was exactly what I had intended it to be, so I really hope that you all like it :-)
Special thanks to whimsymuse, who you all really should show some love because without them there would undoubtedly be an even longer wait between updates...
And of course, a special thanks to everyone supporting this story! Without you all, there would be no good reason to keep it going :-)
Please remember to vote/comment with your thoughts! Wattpad takes both of those into account when ranking stories in the "Hot" section of the Fanfiction category, so let's see if we can beat out all of those DC Comics and One Direction stories that are at the top right now ;-)
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