SOLDIER

“Aw, hell nah; it ain’t comfortable. Kids ask ‘bout it all the time like it’s somethin’ cool.”

Logan can’t hide the tension in his ropy forearms as he thinks about the pain involved whenever his claws come out. Snikt. Yeah. At least Laura doesn’t have enough of a filter not to tell the kids it feels like three machetes living inside you. (Poor kid.)

“But hey, what’re ya gonna do ‘bout it? It ain’t like I can go back to the store an’ tell ‘em I want the adamantium removed.”

“ I guess to them it would be. It looks cool until you understand what exactly happens to make them extend like that. “

Steve is curious but doesn’t push. He knows people have their demons, especially people that have been around as long as he and Logan have, and he knows how he’d feel if someone were to press him about something he was so obviously uncomfortable about. People often do, and Steve hates it.

“Eh, I manage,” she shrugged, surveying the bodies on the ground.  The men all seemed to take the hint to stay down.  Jessica turned to the man and tried to place the face- it was pleasant, almost goody-goody.  Was he an Avenger or something?  He didn’t seem like one of the Hell’s Kitchen locals.

“There’s usually a little more whiskey involved.  That’s my favorite,” Jessica admitted.  “One of these guys was a client.  I caught his wife cheating on him and he blamed me.  Said he’d bring his friend back, and… well, birds of an idiot feather flock together.”

Wait… this guy usually wore a mask, didn’t he?  She was starting to piece it together…

“Do I know you?  Should I know you?  You exude…. do-gooder optimism.  Superhero?”

“ Client? “ Steve lets the pieces float around in his brain for a few seconds before he makes the connection. “ P.I.? “ He frowns then, considering the rest of what she’d said. “ ...if he was your client, then wasn’t he expecting you to find something? So you did what he paid you for, but he got--. “ He stops and shakes his head, chest heaving with a sigh of confusion and disbelief. “ People confuse me now more than they ever did. “

What a little shit. It was truly the best kept secret in America, that Steve Rogers was such an unrepentant little shit. “Do they make you sing the song? You better not be singing the song without me present, Star Spangled Man, you know I have dibs.” 

Sam paused, watching Steve carefully for a moment. “What’s it like? Talking about that stuff, I mean. Must feel like a lifetime ago now.”

Sam laughed a little, then abruptly realized that Steve was serious. While Sam knew how deadly Captain America could be in combat, he had always thought of Steve Rogers as something of a gentle giant. “Oh, come on,” he plied, in a soft, teasing voice, “I think you have better control of your motor skills than you give yourself credit for. And if you’re really concerned about it, I know a guy that works down at the animal shelter on 23rd. You can practice on little furry things. If I see you hulking out, I’ll tackle you. NFL style.” 

“ I promise you, nobody wants to hear me sing the song, “ Steve laughs, big and bright and genuine. “ As far as USO stuff goes, most of them ask about the ladies I toured with and... well. “ His head dips a bit self-consciously, his cheeks pinking. “ People have some pretty interesting ideas about what went on behind the scenes of those shows and during down time... “

“ Oh yeah? “ Steve perks up immediately, an excited grin taking over his face slowly. “ I might do that anyway. Been thinking of maybe getting a dog or a cat. 

“We’re fine.” 

Wanda’s answer comes a little bit too quickly, obviously not entirely honest. 

“It’s – it’s just some family issues, Steve. Nothing important. Nothing you could do much about.” 

After all, it wasn’t like he could explain her entire family history to her. 

“I feel like I’m just waiting for something to happen. It’s not a good way to think, but I do not know if I’ve ever experienced this much quiet in my life.”

He doesn’t think they’re actually fine, but he feels like he’s already overstepped. So he nods and quirks his lips in what he hopes is a comforting smile.

“ Well, if that changes, let me know. I’m always here. “

Steve understands her unease about the quiet. He feels it too. But looking a gift horse in the mouth seems like a bad way to go.

“ My life’s never been all that quiet either, not in a very long time, so I get it. Then I feel bad because I feel like I’m almost asking for trouble, you know? “

“Enjoy that title while ya got it, kid. Ain’t gonna last long.” Logan examines his knuckles, brushing a stray scab from in between his index and middle fingers. At his mental command, the foot-long claw that resides underneath the skin there shoots out, and Logan models it in the sun, watching for the exit wound to stitch itself back up with his healing factor. It does, and Logan sheathes his claw.

He turns back to Steve, a nonchalant look on his face. “Pretty good achievements you’ve got goin’ there. So what brings ya from the kids’ table all the way over here to the old men’s saloon ? Did ya wish on one’a those Zoltron things?”

“ I’m savoring every second of this for that exact reason, “ Steve laughs good-naturedly. Then Logan... unsheathes -- the only term he can really think of to apply to the act -- a long, metal blade from between his fingers. He watches as rays of sun gleam off its surface, tiny bits of blood pooling around the base where it splits his skin. Steve raises an eyebrow in question at the man beside him.

              Much more has changed since the 1940′s than Steve thought. So much more.

“Pietro always goes protective brother on everyone. It’s ridiculous is what it is.” Wanda laughed, though her expression didn’t quite match the sound. “We had a bit of a…tense discussion recently. It might have made that a bit worse. Other than that though…fine. Things have been quiet. Which is nice, but also a bit unnerving…”

Steve laughs even harder. “ No, it was sweet. Really. But... “ He sobers quickly, noticing the expression on Wanda’s face. He knows her well enough to know that not all is well.

“ Is... are you guys okay? Anything I can do to help? “

The question’s a little personal, he realizes, so he backs off. He’d hate for Wanda to feel like he’s digging into her personal life. If she wants him to know, she’ll tell him.

          “ --Yeah, the quiet’s been weird for me too. I’m not sure what to do with myself when I’m not fighting something. “

“I meant stronger as a compliment, but fair enough. I mean, if I made a mess…” He ponders, wondering what he would have done in the same situation. “…it’d depend on whether or not it was my fault, I guess. Accountability isn’t a bad thing, but at the same time I can easily see myself telling the government where to stick it.”

Who the hell is he to tell Steve how to view himself, how to feel? He had already called him out, and even if it wasn’t malicious? To come back into the fold after the crap hit the fan, and pretend like he knew best? That wasn’t the case, and that wasn’t him.

“I’m not saying you’re not a tool.” Clint smirked,  giving a shrug. “…but you’re more than that. More than an asset.” He had told Natasha the same thing, way back when. He never would have expected himself having to give Steve the reminder.

“You passed along the shield, but that’s not what made you a hero. Wasn’t the serum, either.” It was his spirit. Would be corny to say it aloud, but maybe he needed to hear it. “…those were the assets, they helped you do what you would have done by nature anyway. Just, they helped you do it without dying, from what I’ve heard. Nobody can question your service or commitment to making things better. You could have easily decided you’re done, that you’ve done your fair share. Call it quits because it’s just easier, because you’ve earned it… I’ll be honest, that might be what I would do, were I in your shoes. That’s not what you’re doing, though. That’s not who you are. Whatever you call yourself, whatever Tony, or anyone calls you… you are a hero. I don’t just respect what you’ve done and what you’ve been through. I respect you man, as a person. For what it’s worth, I’d trust you with my life.”

Well that got… mushy.

“…and yeah, I think you answered it. More or less.”

He’s not expecting Clint’s answer.

It jars him a little to hear it, not because it’s Clint but because it’s... well, kinder than anything he feels he deserves to hear right now. But it’s honest too; he knows that for sure, considering the source. He takes a moment to breathe through yet another near-stifling knot of emotions -- a very familiar and very, very uncomfortable feeling -- before he mumbles out a response.

“ ...Thank you, Clint. I-. ...Thank you. “

The silence between them lingers for a moment before Steve clears his throat and pushes forward.

“ Have you spoken to him? Tony? Or... anyone, I guess. God, “ he laughs bitterly, running a hand over his head. “ I’m sorry, Clint, we’ve been so focused on me and my issues... 

Sam draws his hand back, the movement unhurried and gentle, and contemplates the benefits of getting Steve a dog. Sam thinks he needs someone who can both take care of him and be cared for in kind. Short of setting Steve up with one of his many overly eager cousins, there doesn’t seem to be another option. Maybe he’d pick out a golden retriever - as big and dumb and pretty as Steve himself. “That’s wild, man. You could tell them anything. You could tell them Colonel Phillips dyed his hair green for a week and they’d kind of have to believe you. What kinds of things are they asking about? Just the war or, like, soc stuff too?”

The suggestion of art classes sounds fantastic and Sam is immediately enthused about the prospect, but tactfully keeps his interest contained to a raised eyebrow. Sometimes, Sam thinks Steve is best approached like a scared, anxious little bunny - with wary movements and extreme caution. “That sounds nice. Are you thinking of going in at the college level or aiming a little younger?”

“ C’mon, Sam. Would I do that? Really? “ Steve knows his expression is innocent enough, just like he knows Sam will see right through it anyway. He shrugs a shoulder, smiling. “ About the war, yeah, but... stuff about the USO show... and Brooklyn too. What things were like back then. That kinda thing. They think it’s hilarious that I’m older than their grandparents. “ 

“ College, “ he blurts, then reconsiders. “ Well. I think. I dunno. “ He’d never considered teaching kids, especially young ones. He’s not sure how he feels around them; he likes them well enough, but. All these years later and he’s still not always sure he’s got full control over his giant body. He’d hate to go in for a hug and crush someone.

Thankfully, this guy seemed to be able to hold his own, so Jessica didn’t have to worry about covering his ass.  A fourth and final assailant had her focused while the stranger worked over another two thugs.  She swung at the man’s stomach, shoving his shoulders when he hunched over in shock at her punch.

Her ally’s shout caused her to turn her head, just in time to see one of the thugs approaching her with an extended blade.  “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding me,” she muttered, dodging as the man took a stab and barely missed.

Jessica quickly roundhoused the man’s hand and he gripped his wrist as the blade clattered to the ground.  The woman dove in to punch the man in the jaw, sending him toppling.  She turned to her battle partner.

“Thanks for the warning.”

“ No problem. “ Steve eyes the woman, then the carnage laid out around her. “ I feel like you would’ve been just fine without it though. “

The space around them is suddenly silent. Loudly so in comparison to the ruckus they’d been immersed in mere moments before. The men are down, none of them so much as groaning though Steve can still hear them all breathing. So he’s left to turn to his... ally? Can he call her that?

        “I think…” 

           An uncharacteristic pause, brief - but enough time to wrestle with the need to protect Wanda, and the thought that maybe a friend might not been an unwanted presence for her. 

                  “ - that Wanda will like that.” 

    “Yes, like everyone.   Some have more than others, to find.” 

Steve’s grin widens. He knows the admission must’ve cost Pietro something, but it had been made for his sister’s sake. He’s never known that particular protective urge, the one a brother feels for his sister, so to be in the presence of it is bittersweet.

                “ Mm. “

He doesn’t have much else to say in the face of that fact. Guilt burns hot and stinging in his blood, shame a greasy accompaniment. As if he has any right to claim to be picking up pieces when it’s his fault that so many are broken and scattered in the first place...

“I – It’s fine, Steve. Don’t worry. I am glad to see you now though.”

“ It’s not. “ He doesn’t argue more than that though, just shakes his head at himself as he sits down next to her.

“ How have you been? I saw Pietro a little while ago. I asked about you, and he got all protective brother on me. It was sweet. “