As the events of Sokovia slowly but surely unfolded into the largest battle the earth had ever seen, Janie had trouble accepting life for her went on as normal. Novi Grad was on fire and the world with it, people across the globe were shocked as they watched everything happening in front of their eyes and yet she still had to go to classes and shop for groceries, which seemed to be all she did anymore anyway.
She'd given up on following the news after the first hour of coverage, but no matter how hard she tried to avoid it, the reality of the situation followed her wherever she went.
In class, it was all everyone could talk about. The Avengers were the topic of the week, and discussions about the legitimacy of them rose during every lecture. Her friends, the few of them she had left, even contacted her out of the blue to ask her if she'd seen what was going on. Hell, even her physical therapist brought up the subject as he was working on the muscles in her back. The Avengers were literally everywhere, including the subway and bus stations, grocery stores, and even in the line at Starbucks.
Somehow, something inside of her shifted. Janie didn't want to admit a certain super soldier to be the cause, but her heart leaped inside her chest every time somebody mentioned his name. She hadn't forgotten what caused them to meet in the first place, but as time ticked on, she found herself more and more ready to cross the threshold that held her back from living a somewhat normal life. She constantly caught herself thinking of him, wondering how he was doing, who he was with and what was going on. She feared for his life even after having seen what he was capable of and hearing people talking negatively about him made her blood boil.
She was done chasing rainbows and hoping for an end to them, determination to move on and stop being a coward growing. She began to realize how lucky she really was, meeting the Avengers had changed her in ways she couldn't even properly grasp.
She hadn't seen the strange man from the sidewalk since he conveniently saved her from a probably painful death and figured it had to have been some weirdo gracious enough to pull her out of ongoing traffic. The bruise around her arm faded quickly and the memory of the encounter with it. It only crossed her mind when she found herself near that same spot but eventually chose to ignore the clench in her stomach when she crossed there to get to school.
With a cup of steaming black coffee and soft jazz music playing to fill the silence in her apartment, Janie was bent over her computer trying to work on an essay due next week. As the words flowed from her fingertips onto the three-page word document, a knock on Janie's door rudely interrupted her thoughts. She groaned but got up from her chair anyway, stretching the stiff muscles in her back before walking towards the front of the house. Whoever stood in the hall knocked again before she could even reach the door, three rapid knocks this time.
Her slippers, light grey lined with pale pink faux fur dragged across the wooden floor and the belt on her fuchsia-colored bathrobe nearly caught under the sole of one of them. She'd already taken a shower earlier and had put on her pajamas, a black long-sleeved shirt, and dark blue pants with little iridescent stars all over them. Hanging loosely around her shoulders? A robe, bright pink and fluffier than any bath towel she'd ever used.
"Yeah, yeah," she grumbled, "coming."
A quick peek through the peephole revealed the same man that had taken her to the party in the Avengers tower. She immediately opened the door, her eyebrow twitching as she held onto the wood. Perhaps she'd seen too many movies because the first thought that crossed her mind was a horrific one. Is he dead?
"Benjamin? What are you doing here?" Her voice came out shaky.
"I've been asked to pick you up. Said it was urgent." He said, adjusting his tie as he spoke.
"Who said that? I'm already in my pajamas." She motioned towards her attire, but he didn't seem to care.
"Captain Rogers, Miss. Please, follow me."
They raced through the city together, breaking more laws than Janie could even imagine. Ben didn't once stop at a red light and he was way over the legal speed limit as he maneuvered the vehicle, a shiny black SUV, through busy streets.
"What is going on?" Janie demanded when he stopped in front of a gigantic building just outside city limits. She got out, slamming the door behind her as she waited for him to do the same.
He didn't move from his seat, however, and his hands didn't once leave the steering wheel.
"You'll see." He said.
"You're not coming?" Janie asked.
"No ma'am," Benjamin replied, "I have other matters to attend to." He nodded, before putting the car in reverse and speeding away.
Janie walked up the front steps and through the sliding glass door. The giant blue A hanging off the side of the building reflected brightly in the darkness of the night, adding a stark contrast to the building's predominantly white walls.
People inside ran around their stations, operators speaking into their coms and telephones while they worked on their computers. Janie noticed Mariah Hill hovering over one of the desks, her eyes glued to the screen as she barked commands to the person sitting in front of the same computer. She smiled when she saw the young woman coming in and pointed towards the back, offering a wink as she did.
"Nice outfit," the woman said, "stylish."
"Thanks. I thought this was a slumber party."
Before Janie realized what was going on, strong arms engulfed her, wrapping tightly around her back and pulling her close. The familiar smell of Steve's body wash pricked her senses and his warmth soon followed.
"You're back," she breathed against his shirt, "in one piece."
"You weren't there to save my life, so I had to make sure that I didn't die." He chuckled.
"What the hell happened out there? The whole world was losing their minds." She mumbled.
Steve didn't reply, the memories of dying civilians still burning on his retina. He was hurting despite the end result of the mission being mostly positive. He took a hold of her hand and guided her away from the crowd of people. Together, they walked up the staircase, and down a long hallway. Every room was numbered, except for one; the storage closet.
He took her inside number 8, using his fingerprint to undo the lock and once again to turn on the lights and quiet blues music. It was Steve's bedroom, smaller than the one he had in the Stark Tower, but just as nice. He hugged her again, more softly this time, gentle enough not to knock the wind out of her with his super soldier strength.
"Are you okay?" Janie asked after a while, pulling back slightly so she could study his face.
"I will be," he said, "As always."
"You don't have to pretend you're fine when you're not, Steve. Not with me." The two of them sat down on the bed, awkwardly shifting the sheets around as they crumpled underneath both of their touches.
"That's what I like about you," he said softly, "You allow me to be the real me."
"Of course," she breathed, "it wouldn't be fair to you otherwise."
"Tony quit," he said suddenly, "Thor and Clint are gone too. Nobody knows where Banner is, he could be dead for all we know. It's just me and Nat now."
"I'm sure Bruce is fine," Janie assured him, "He's a smart guy. He probably has a trick or two up his sleeve."
"We nearly killed everyone, Janie. The civilians, one minute later and they all would've died. A lot of people would've died."
"But you didn't and they're alive," She stated, grabbing his thigh and pressing her fingers into his skin, "look, I don't know why Tony quit. I don't know him very well, but I think he feels bad about how he failed at trying to do something good. Ultron was his idea of a safer world and it came back to bite him in the ass. He probably needs time to collect himself, but I'm sure he'll come around eventually."
Steve nodded, biting his lower lip while he stared off towards the door.
"So what's gonna happen now?" Janie laid back on the bed, exhaling when her back hit the soft mattress.
"Romanoff and I are starting a new team. The threat may be eliminated for now, but our work is far from over."
The two of them sat in silence for a while, until Steve finally rose up from his spot. He racked a hand through his tangled locks and grimaced, "I'm going to take a shower," he said.
He turned on the TV and tossed Janie the remote, allowing her to flick through the channels as she waited for him to finish. She eventually stopped on Nation Geographic, the sound of a documentary on Alaskan native birds filling the room while she grabbed the single pillow on the bed and placed it underneath her head.
Her cheeks turned bright pink at the thought of Steve in the next room, naked with water running down his body. She mindlessly clasped a hand over her mouth, mentally scolding herself for the thoughts that swirled around in her head. Instead, she forced herself to focus on the documentary, currently showing beautiful a snow owl flying from tree to tree.
With the quiet sounds of falling water and the narrator droning on about different species of owls, Janie passed out on the bed with her feet against the headboard and her head towards the end.
Janie woke up in a pool of her own sweat. The bathrobe she'd been wearing had somehow wrapped itself completely around her torso and was smothering her in her sleep. She kicked the sheets away from her body and took a deep breath, wiping the drops of sweat from her brow and fanning her face with her hand to cool off. As her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, she looked around the room.
Beside her, Steve laid atop the sheets. His shirt sat in a crumbled mess at the edge of the bed and his pants sat low on his hips. He writhed around in his sleep, moving his body in jerking motions. His muscle spasms and twitches caused Janie to hold her breath. Steve, who muttered incoherently while he slept, had streams of sweat dripping down his torso.
Janie slowly went to touch his shoulder, gently placing her hand on his skin in fear of startling him. She could see Steve's eyes opening wide, moonlight shining in through the window casting an eerie glow on his face. He gasped for air, his chest heaving up and down in short, rapid motions as he lay there in the dark disoriented.
She watched his every move, waiting for him to lash out at her or freak out, but instead, he slowly grabbed hold of her hand and pulled it to his side, squeezing it softly. Then, he rolled over onto his left side. Janie let out a sharp breath when she felt herself rolling over as well. She was spooning him now, with her arm draped securely over his waist, her hand pressed up against his abdomen. She could feel his muscles moving with every breath Steve took and still, he would not let go of her hand.
With her face pressed against his back, she closed her eyes. It was strange, having to comfort him instead of the other way around. Janie hadn't before realized the super soldier had a weak side just like she had one because he'd chosen to hide his in the shadows of his mind while hers was constantly on display. Despite the serum coursing through his veins, it shouldn't be forgotten he was still human, still a man of flesh and blood with perceptions, thoughts, and feelings.
The world's expectancy of him hung over his head like thunder, that much was clear. The pressure had been slowly building inside of him, bubbling like boiling water. Janie didn't want to assume it was PTSD, but with his military background and all the shit he'd seen during his years on this earth, it wouldn't surprise her.
The two of them slowly drifted off to sleep to the sound of each other's heartbeats. Steve didn't have any other dreams that night, or at least, he couldn't remember. It was a good thing because the night terrors that had been keeping him up at night terrified him. They were always the same, innocent people dying in front of him while there was nothing he could do to help them. They screamed his name, and begged him for help, but his hands were tied to his back and his lips were sealed shut. Then flashes of his life before the serum, flashes of Bucky and Peggy, of his parents begging him to come home to them, pleading with him to stop hurting people.
He got up early that morning, the same as every other morning. Steve didn't need an alarm to tell him it was 6 am, because his biological clock woke him up just as the sun began to rise, even when it was hidden behind clouds. He gently pulled himself out of Janie's grasp and slipped on workout gear, running out the door before she would wake up.
Steve ran for miles, ran until the sun was high enough in the sky for him to see it behind the tallest of buildings. He ran through parks, along roads filled with cabs as people began taking off to their jobs and he ran passed the Stark Tower. He enjoyed it, the simplicity of the routine. It gave structure to his chaotic life and allowed him to clear his head. He didn't have to think about his mistakes when he ran, because nothing existed but the sound of his running shoes hitting the pavement and the sight of the city he once grew up in. Even the smell of car fumes and dead fish that hit his nose when he passed the market made him feel better.
He stopped only a few times, taking pictures with fans and handing out the autograph they wanted so badly when they called out his name. He didn't particularly like being recognized in the streets, but at least it confirmed that not everybody in the world hated him like he sometimes hated himself.
By the time he finally came back, Janie was already awake. She'd gone for a quick shower, using his body wash and deodorant as it was the only thing there was to use. She'd grabbed one of Steve's sweatshirts as well, one that was technically too tight on him, and slipped it on, watching as the fabric hit her thighs while her hands disappeared inside the sleeves. His sweatpants were a little better because the string allowed her to make them tighter, but she still had to roll up the bottom so she wouldn't step on them. It didn't really matter, she only needed something to go home into that wasn't a pair of pajamas she bought at Victoria's Secret the Christmas before or the robe she was given as a free gift with purchase.
"Is that mine?" Steve asked.
He stepped into his room, small sweat stains collecting on his back and under his arms. He'd really pushed himself this morning, but with his stamina, he could run all day.
Janie lifted up her left arm, allowing Steve to see just how long the sleeves were, and raised her eyebrow.
"That's a yes," he said, "you look good in it."
Heat rose to the woman's cheeks, but she shrugged it off. He was clearly just being nice because she'd looked in the mirror less than five minutes ago and knew damn well she looked like crap.
"I'm sorry about last night." He stated awkwardly, rubbing his neck so he didn't have to look at her.
"Don't be," Janie replied, her voice rough and sleepy, "It's not your fault you had a bad dream. Happens to the best of us."
She hugged him quickly, surprising him with the scent he recognized to be his own, "My body wash, too?"
"Wanna smell my pits? I used your Old Spice, too. I figured it'd be better than what I smelled like before because your body is like a furnace and I was sweating it up last night. especially after you entrapped me in your arms of steel." She smiled.
"No thanks, I believe you. And sorry, again." He said while he took off his shoes.
"Don't worry about it. I'm gonna go now," she said, "I have to change and go to class."
"Of course," he replied quickly, "I didn't mean to keep you."
"I know," Janie nodded, "You just can't live without my company."