I blinked at the phone. I stared at it. I was puzzled and scared. I was worried about (Name). I had always been worried about her. She was such a sweet girl. She was petite and at certain times shy. She was in the field as a spy and was an excellent knife thrower, which meant she could protect herself from far ranges. Which was one of the reasons I was so confused. She could protect herself, so why was she letting Allen do what was to her. Perhaps he had some kind of leverage over her. The reason didn’t really matter that much to me though. I was worried about her, because I loved her, and I had loved (Name) since the day we first met. It was the same day when Natasha, Tony, Bruce, and I had first met.
In our first encounter, she was in a state of panic. Agent Clint Barton, one of the men who had been compromised, by Loki the God of Mischief, was her older brother. The poor woman was a bit of a mess. She was running around the monitoring room checking every computer, asking every person about her brother twice. Natasha had somehow kept her cool. At the time I supposed that (Name) wasn’t good at keeping a cool head, but I was very wrong. I later learned one of her fears was losing everyone she had ever loved. She thought she had lost her only brother, the only family she had left. That was until the Avenger started. After we defeated Loki we got to know her a lot better, when she finally trusted us.
I found out that she was an amazing person, a good fighter, but wasn’t proud of it. She hated hurting people, she much rather help people in need. She almost reminded me of Banner, but not really. (Name) had a bit of an explosive temper sometimes and she was brilliant. Other than those two factors her and Banner had nothing in common.
I wanted (Name) to have freedom. To have justice. I knew perfectly well freedom wasn’t won alone. Maybe I could help her. No. I would help her. But I couldn’t just barge in there could I? I knew I didn’t have time to waste, but I needed a plan of action.
I shook my head and ran out to my car. My motorcycle would be faster, but if (Name) needed medical attention it’d be increasingly difficult to carry on her the motor bike. I sped from my garage and down the road. (Name), thankfully, didn’t live too terribly far away from me.
Ever since (Name) left her work at S.H.E.I.L.D I had a bit been afraid for her. At S.H.E.I.L.D I could at least have made sure she was alright. Now I was haunted every night by the thoughts of what could be happening to her. I never said anything before now because I had sworn I was simply imagining things, but eyes are very good a deceiving.
I made it to (Name)’s home. Which didn’t appear to be all that great. I stepped up onto the porch. One of the boards broke after I stepped on it. While taking a closer inspection of the house I noticed that it was practically falling apart at the seams. It wasn’t fit for anyone to live in.
I was yanked from my thoughts by a familiar yelp. Then I heard pleading, and someone snarling words back. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but I didn’t need to know. Not just yet. Normally I would knock on the door and try to reason with them, but didn’t know Allen. I didn’t know what he was capable of. Also I found it easier to release so of my pent up anger by kicking down the door.
The two figures jumped as I busted in. I saw (Name) trembling beneath Allen. She was shielding her face with her arms, from what? I couldn’t tell quite yet. “Who are you? And what the fuck are you doing in my house?” Allen demanding, he turned toward me. I could now see that he was holding a broken beer bottle. I narrowed my eyes at him. I took at stride forward, while saying, “I’m Steve Rogers,” (Name) had scooted away from Allen, her (e/c) orbs trained on me. “What do want, Steve Rogers?” Allen growled, almost mocking my name.
I grabbed the collar of his shirt and lifted him in the air. “Justice,” I said angrily. I practically used the guy as a punching bag, but he deserved. When Allen stopped trying to fight me, I went back to (Name). She seemed okay, she wasn’t bleeding, as far as I could tell. The (brunette/blonde/ginger/etc.) woman just seemed frightened.
“It’s alright (Name),” I said to her gently. “Thank you Steve,” she whispered. “It wasn’t a problem ma’am,” I said, scooping her off the ground. “I can walk,” she protested. “I know,” I told her. “Then why are you wasting your energy to carry me?” she asked. “Because… ” my cheek heated up, “Because, I love you (Name). That’s why,” She didn’t say anything, she just stiffened a little.
My heart sunk. I didn’t know why I was so upset about it. I didn’t know why it came as a shock to me. Why would someone like (Name), ever want to be with me? I was stuck in the forties and I was so desperately trying to make sense of my new surroundings, but it wasn’t working very well.
“I love you too Steve,” she said softly. Then she kissed my cheek. “I know I should have said something early, but I was afraid of Allen,” A silly grin sprang up on my face. “It’s alright,” I said, as she buried her face into my chest.
I drove her back over to my home and called Bruce. To my relief, Bruce said (Name) would be fine and didn’t need any medical attention. He told me that her bruises would heal and her cuts had already been treated. We thanked him after he left leaving us alone.
Now I knew that my nights wouldn’t be haunted by (Name) suffering at the hands of Allen. I knew this now, because if it happened I would be able to look over and (Name) would be right there, sleeping beside me. Neither of us would have to fear what the next day would bring now, because she was safe. With me.