#pre-iw

“Oh lord, oh lord, he’s somewhere between a hangman’s not and three mouths to feed.  There wasn’t a wrong or a right he could choose.  He did what he had to do.”

“Really?  Another window?” you revved the engine of the large SUV Clint helped you steal a few hours previously, while Wanda and Steve scrambled into the back.  

“I didn’t have a lot of options,” the super soldier huffed in response, tapping the drivers seat indicating it was time to get out sight.  

In the months that had passed since your “abduction” at the Congressional Gala, you’d done your best to fill the spot Colin had left behind in his death.  The law had been fast tracked after it was revealed who’d snatched you up, much to yours and the teams dissatisfaction.  

“You always break windows,” you continued, weaving expertly through traffic.

You’d decided early in your stay with Steve and the others that joining in their rogue vigilante business was the least you could do to pay your debt to society.  Especially, given that Ellis was still using your words and PR plan to rouse the American public into hating enhanced citizens.  

It didn’t take very long until you ran your paces and found yourself in the field as eyes and ears on the ground.  Even though you’d once held a very distinguished position in the American Government, the average person hardly recognized you compared to your infamous counterparts.  

Sometimes, you’d take pictures and post them on encrypted social media accounts as a means of continuing your pro-enhanced agenda.  Surprisingly, people were latching on and it became clear where your loyalties now laid.  Soon enough, your face graced every law enforcement agency under the federal government’s jurisdiction along with your superhero friends.

“You’re the one who was having trouble with the get away car,” Steve pointed out, pulling off his helmet and gloves, tossing them aside.  “You distracted my getaway plan.”

You gaped in fake hurt.

“I can’t believe you’re blaming your propensity to jump out of twenty story buildings on me,” you stated, snapping the steering wheel sharply to the left to avoid a police barricade.  “Can someone please tell me we have a back road I can take?  I can’t shake this SHIELD agent off us.”

Clint straightened up, glancing over his shoulder at the motorcycle that had nearly caught up with their getaway car.  

“I got you,” he muttered, reaching into his quiver and attached a small globe to the end of an arrow.  

“Please don’t kill them,” you sighed, dodging an oncoming minivan.  

“Focus on driving before we take your training permit away,” he retorted, earning a chuckle from Steve.  Clint leaned out of the window gracefully and loosed the arrow.  

It hit the front of the motorcycle and immediately the device came to a stop, much to the irritation and confusion on it’s driver.

“EMP arrow,” Clint slid back into the passenger seat with a grin.  “God bless the 21st century.”

Shaking your head, you nodded toward the GPS in the cup holder just as you burst off road into a cluster of trees toward the more recent safe house, indicating Clint need to direct you.  In a few miles you’d ditch the car for a second one and eventually round your way back to Natasha and the others in a safehouse.

The mission had largely been a success, with Steve saving a dozen innocent citizens who’d been hiding enhanced teenagers from a forced “pre-registration”.  Meanwhile, Wanda and Clint had taken as much federal information on SHEILD’s upcoming protocols as possible.

“I’m not dropping the window jumping,” you declared once you pulled to a stop under a felled tree near the new vechicle.  You slammed the drivers door after grabbing your camera out of the back seat and walked up to Steve, running a hand over the front of his uniform.  

“Look at this!  You torn your star off.”

Steve snorted under his breath, setting his hands on his belt and widening his shoulders.  You knew he did this when he was trying to intimidate you as “The Captain”, but you easily saw past the mask to the goofy kid from Brooklyn underneath.

“I think it looks better,” he declared with a playful grin.  

“You’re just saying that because you have no idea how to get a new one,” you replied, lifting your camera and snapping a picture of his smug expression.  “I’m sure the kids’ll love this one.”

“I’m regretting stealing that for you,” Steve murmured as you hurried off toward Clint’s calls of ‘Training Wheels’.

“Whatever you say, Steve,” Wanda slipped past, her eyes glowing red and a sly smile playing on her features.  The captain stared after her before muttering something indistinct under his breath and jogging after her toward the new car.  

Though new, was a bit of an exaggeration.

“This is terrible,” you decided, tugging open the rusted door of the considerably aged sedan.  You eyed the shredded leather front seat with unease, glancing at the other teammates as they shuffled inside.

“Sam wouldn’t have left us with a piece of junk,” Steve reasoned lightly, pulling at his seatbelt and frowning when it snapped free.

“He definitely would,” Clint pointed out, opening the glove compartment and finding a single pistol inside.  “Has anyone eaten his leftovers in a while?  He gets touchy about his leftovers.”

“I stole one of his sodas,” you confessed, rolling the engine over and starting the car to life.  Despite the cosmetic aspects of the car, the engine growled.  “Ooh babydoll.  Remind me to pick up some of Sam’s favorite snacks later.”  

“That’s gross,” Clint pulled a scowl, plugging his own seatbelt in and booting up the GPS.  “We have five miles of highway driving.”

“Perfect,” you beamed, charging out of the brush at full speed.

(—)

“You never get to drive again,” Steve decided loudly, standing next to the drivers side door.  You smiled sheepishly up at him, turning the car off and opening the door.

“Did anyone die?” you questioned, passing over the keys to the sound of Clint gagging a few feet away from the safehouse.  

“Wanda is the only reason we didn’t collide with that semi,” he snapped, running a hand through his dissolved hair to rearrange it.

“I had it under control,” you argued back, following behind him with a fuss.

“You definitely had it under control,” Wanda appeared at your side, trying to fight down her smirk and losing.  “I just helped with the whole stopping the spun out semi and moving us out of the way part.”

“That’s it, I quit,” you rolled your eyes and threw your hands up in defeat.  

“I’m sure Ellis will welcome you back with open arms,” Sam snorted, grabbing the dangling keys from Steve and scanning over the group.  “You didn’t hurt my baby, did you, Princeton?”

You gave a dramatic eye roll at Sam’s chosen nickname for you.  When it’d come out that you studied law at the Ivy League school, he just wouldn’t let it go.  

“I was driving just fine,” you insisted before jerking a thumb toward Steve and Wanda.  “They seemed to think I was going to kill everyone.”

“Because you were,” Clint finally joined the group as they made their way inside of the safehouse.  

The place had was an old SSR hideout that Steve had found a few years back.  It’d been largely abandoned and he refitted it over the years as a small sanctuary in the southwestern American desert mountains.  

Natasha and Scott were in the kitchen, arguing about the best liquor to celebrate the mission’s success with, while Sam had seemed to step away from a racing game in the living room to greet them.

“They’ve been going back and forth about vodka and scotch for twenty minutes now,” Sam explained as he hung up the keys and retook his place on the couch with Clint shortly behind.  

You pulled your camera off your neck and set it on the kitchen counter, gratefully taking a water bottle that Steve passed to you with a smirk.  

“I just can’t believe this man doesn’t know good liquor,” Natasha huffed, dropping down next to Steve.  “Did you get the intel?”  

Wanda turned from facing the fridge and dropped a small USB in front of the spy.  

“And PR?” Scott mimicked Natasha’s official tone with a chuckle.  “I hope you caught lots of explosions on that camera of yours.”

“Steve jumped out of a window again,” you mused, sipping at your water to hide your grin.  Steve shot you a glare but Natasha beat you to the first word.

“We talked about this,” she began but Steve held up a hand.  

“Clint was helping with the car and I needed out of the building before the explosives went off,” he reasoned.  “It’s not like it was my first time-”

“See?  He doesn’t even care,” you sighed dramatically.  “Steve, if you break your star spangled butt, we’re all toast.”  Natasha quirked a brow in your direction and you paused.  “Well, mostly me and Scott.  Maybe Sam.”

“I heard that,” Sam voiced from the living room over the sound of car engines.  

“Definitely Sam,” you whispered, earning a laugh from Wanda.  

“It was nothing,” Steve continued brushing off your complaints, avoiding eye contact.  You could have sworn you saw the start of some reddening under his beard.

You snorted under your breath before standing up and declaring you needed a shower.  Tossing the plastic bottom into the recycling, you made your way upstairs to the shared quarters and bathrooms.

The safehouse was decent aside from seven grown adults sharing two microscopically small bathing areas.  The bathrooms were basically closets attached to the shared bunks on each floor of the house.  The third floor had been designated for the women, while the second floor had been claimed by the guys.  

Clearly, the SSR agent who’d set the place up, hadn’t lived in a dorm style room before.  It was barracks and two storage boxes for personal effects in each room.  You felt a little pity for the guys having been crammed together, but that feeling quickly passed when you accidentally got trapped in the women’s room while Wanda and Nat did some sparring exercises.

Most of the time, you only went into the room for toiletries, clean clothes, and sleep.  

The shower water only stayed warm for about five minutes, so you’d become accustomed to quick bathing and brisk wake up calls.  Nothing quite started off a five am mission like a gallon of ice cold water over your head.  

You enjoyed your new life, however.  The makeshift Avengers had become a bit of a family to replace the one you lost.  Colin had been given a small memorial service with the team as a means of honoring his memory and your parents had passed years before of natural cases.  

All you had left was the team and the mission, and you’d be damned if you let a single enhanced person down.  

While you didn’t have superpowers, your task as the unofficial media representative for the team was time consuming.  You had to ensure photos reached the right people and made the right impact- something that was difficult to achieve from the middle of the desert.  

At one point, you reached out to Tony behind everyone’s back.  He took an interest in helping you and generally fast tracked any media releases to the newspapers and cable networks.  

You spoke only via email, and you’d been careful not to let anyone else see what you were doing.  Tonight, you mentally made a note to send Tony some of the pictures from the rescue earlier.  You’d gotten some great snapshots of American forces forcibly restraining a few children and you knew that’d get some favor on your cause.  

Yawning, you threw on some clean sweats and made your way downstairs where Sam and Scott were bickering over a show to watch on Netflix.  

“I’m amazed you guys have managed to even get Netflix,” you commented, dropping down next to Wanda and stealing a handful of popcorn from her bowl.  “That’s gotta be some impressive encryption since no one has busted down our door yet.”

You chuckled, meaning the comment as a joke, but immediately the room went still.  

“She doesn’t know?” Clint asked Steve in surprise.  His brows were raised to his hairline and he looked around the room for confirmation.  Wanda looked equally as puzzled, as did Sam.  

“Know what?” You questioned, treading into the tension hesitantly.  “Did we have to kill the cable guy for Netflix?”

Steve cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was headed.  

“Tony... he’s been helping out with our encrypted web access,” he explained slowly.  “And some of our tech.”

“What?!” Sam exclaimed, his hands going to his head as he processed the information.  

“You didn’t know?” Scott asked in amusement.  “God, I just assumed everyone knew since she’s been emailing him like, all the time.”

Everyone’s eyes immediately shot to you.  

“Wait, wait,” you held a hand up and turned to Wanda.  “You told him?”

The brunette witch immediately shook her head.  

“Never!  I keep my promises,” she insisted sharply.  

“I told him,” Clint murmured from the corner.  “I just assumed since he already knew about the Netflix...”

“So wait,” you turned to Steve.  “How long?”

“A month or so,” he confessed.  “Maybe longer.  I figured it’d be nice to have an ally on the outside.”

“I thought we didn’t like Tony?” Sam reiterated.  “So were all cool after he tossed all of us in super prison?  Princeton, come on...”

“He disagrees with the registration part, but has to play his role,” you argued back, prickling at the nickname.  “How do you think CNN got our clips so fast?  Twitter isn’t a miracle worker, ya know.  I just can’t believe you guys would keep this a secret.”

“Way to call the pot black, kettle,” Clint laughed, earning a glare from you.  

The entire time, Steve was quietly digesting the conversation around him.  Sam started complaining to Natasha, who shrugged and said she knew all along because she found Tony’s card in your coat a few weeks back, and Wanda attempted to mediate everyone else.  

Softly, you reached over and tapped Steve on the shoulder.

“What’s on your mind?” You whispered, trying to keep your conversation a little more private from the others.  

“This blew up in everyone’s face, didn’t it?” He gave you an uneasy chuckle, leaning back into the sofa.  “Go figure we all could have coordinated and planned...”

“I’m sorry,” you replied earnestly.  “I just... given your history together... I wasn’t sure.”

He gave a bitter laugh at that, biting into the tension and dissolving it.  

“You know, I was thinking the same thing?  He was at the gala that night,” he met your gaze and frowned.  “I wasn’t sure how I was going to try and justify any of it.”

You furrowed your brows at that, shaking your head slowly.  

“Steve, you don’t have to justify anything for anyone,” you relied firmly, absently reaching to give his hand a comforting squeeze.  “You don’t owe anyone anything.  You know that right?  You’ve more than paid your dues.  I’m not saying you could befriend a dictator and we’d be cool, but talking to your old friend... asking for help?  No one here would judge you for that.”

He didn’t say another word after that.  He just closed his eyes and listened to the others go back and forth, more upset about the deceit than the actions themselves.  The team would get over it, you were sure of that.  Especially given everything Tony had been doing to help your cause.

(—)

“Give me the burden, give me the blame.  I’ll shoulder the load, I’ll swallow the shame.  Give me the burden, give me the blame... how many hail Mary’s is it gonna take?”

Nightfall came faster than you would have liked.  Some of the others were still being fussy about the confessions and you felt like you were going to bash your head in every time Scott pointed something out or Clint whined about honesty.  

Finally, reaching your breaking point, you offered to take the night patrol, just to get some fresh air.

You flipped your flashlight off after you reached the first scouting point a few hundred feet away from the safehouse.  No one ever wandered close enough to be of relevance, but Steve would have rather been safe than sorry.  Every night, the team took turns staying up to watch out and alert the others if someone were to cross the perimeter.

You climbed into the small shelter, a small hut Clint constructed as a means to protect from the elements, and tossed you flashlight and radio to the ground.  The moon was full and casting a low light over the surrounding desert.  It was so much more calming than the mess in the house, and even though you’d be losing sleep, you were glad to be out.  

It didn’t take long before you were perched up in a small chair next to the window, humming to yourself in tune with the noises of the night.

“Hey,” a voice crackled in the radio and you immediately perked, recognizing it as Steve.  Wrestling yourself from your comfortable position, your fingers searched the floor until they gripped the small walke-talkie.  

“Captain Rogers, this is only for emergencies,” you scolded playfully.  

“That’s right,” he sighed and the line went dead.  You were certain he’d given up, when you heard a shuffle nearby and he slid into the shelter next to you, smiling apologetically at the space he took up.

“Cozy,” you commented lightly, returning your attention to the desert.  “Did you need something?”

He paused, looking a little flustered before pulling out a small Tupperware.  

“I noticed you didn’t bring anything to eat,” he muttered, setting the box next to your flashlight.  

He looked younger in the moonlight.  Less stressed, like he was carrying less of the world on his shoulders.  

“Thanks,” you replied with a nod toward the food.  “I could have rounded back later though.  To what do I owe the special delivery?”

He shifted his weight, nearly tumbling over you in the confined space of the crudely constructed hut used as the teams scouting outpost.  

“Sorry,” he sighed, glancing away after his hand brushed your thigh.  

You’d barely registered the apology, your mind buzzing at the subtle touch.  Immediately an image of him caressing it lovingly flashed through your mind and you swallowed at the intrusion.

You could feel your heart rate jump, threatening to be heard by his super senses if you weren’t careful.  Curse the overly tense night and mission… your nerves must have gotten frayed.

“I just didn’t think you’d want to be completely alone,” Steve explained with a small shrug.  “You seemed a little eager to get out of there but, I don’t know-  If you want me to leave you alone...”

The thought touched your heart, sending it racing even faster.  For so long, you’d considered Steve one of your closest confidants in the team.  You teased each other mercilessly, but on more than one occasion, you’d yelled at him through years over a stupid decision or an injury.  

You definitely had more than a soft spot for the super soldier.  He was just too sweet not to form an attachment to.

“Stay,” you found yourself saying, seemingly startling both of you with the single word.  

“Ok,” he breathed, his body language loosening while he pulled up a second chair across from you.  

The two of you sat in comfortable silence a few minutes before he spoke up again.  

“You said I didn’t need to justify talking to Tony earlier,” he stated, his expression pulling right in thought.  “But you wanted to keep your conversations with him to yourself.  Why?”

You looked over at him in puzzlement.  You thought it would have been crystal clear, but maybe he didn’t catch social cues as well as the rest of the team.  Wanda definitely had caught on.

“You’ve been fighting this war with yourself over what happened,” you said, offering a comforting smile and reaching for his hand for the second time that day.  It was automatic.  A soft touch the two of you consistently gave one another when you sensed the other was distressed.  “I was hoping to protect you from at least one other burden.  I didn’t want to say anything unless it was necessary or I knew you wanted to reach out.”

“It’s not a burden…” he began, but you squeezed his hand to silence him.  

“You take world hunger as a personal offense,” you pointed out with a grin.  “Maybe, in some weird way, I thought I could finally protect you for a little bit.  I was dumb.  I should of just said something.”

His eyes bore into yours, pulling you past the Captain facade toward Steven Rogers underneath.

“No, you...” he stumbled over his words, breaking the spell to look at the floor and run a nervous hand through his hair.  “That’s...I’m sorry, I’m terrible at talking about… I’m gonna go.”

He slipped his hand away, standing and leaving a cold, empty space next to you.  Before he left, you called out his name.  

Steve froze in the doorway, his back to you.  

“What are you terrible at talking about?” You challenged, your voice a little bolder after seeing him crumble under your conversation.

“My feelings,” he turned over his shoulder and let out another held breath.  He faced you fully and started back toward the window where you remained perched by the moonlight.  “I’ve fought a lot of fights and I’ve always known who was on my side and who would cover my back.”

You listened, your fingers gripping the sides of your jeans anxiously.  Suddenly you became very aware of your surroundings and the man whose face now caught the moonbeams flowing through the cracks in the roof.

“It’s hard to picture myself being worth saving,” he admitted, stepping a little closer.  “That someone... that someone would want to protect ‘Steve’ because of who he is and not because of who he became.”

You released a nervous giggle, barely recognizing the noise that came out.  You could have punched yourself for the stupid noise.  Pulling together your composure, you tried to play it off.  

“That’s um,” you stuttered.  “A very dramatic way of seeing it.  I did lie to you.”

He was next to you, towering over your seated form, smirking down at you.

“Did you?  I never asked,” he pointed out.  “I know I can trust you to tell me essential details, even if it would hurt my feelings.  It’s just... it’s sweet of you, and bizarre for me, that your rational was so...”

“Rational?” You teased.  

“We can go with that,” he agreed, laughing.  “I was going for... sensitive, but rational works.”

The relaxed laughter made your heart spin again.  If the moonlight shone a little brighter, Steve would have seen your cheeks radiating red like a silly teenager girl with a crush.  

Maybe that’s what you had?  A crush.  The man was a legend and you had just been swept up in his energy and light.  You were falling for the sparkles and banners, who wouldn’t?  That was it.  Obviously that was it.  

“I just want you to know,” he went quiet, as if debating his next move carefully.  He seemed to have come to a decision when he reached forward and cupped your cheek with his hand.  “I have every intention of keeping you safe and protecting you through all of this.”

You were pretty certain your brain had short circuited and stopped working.  You stared dumbly at him, trying to come up with words.  Any words.  Anything.  

“And after?” You asked, your eyes darting between his eyes and his lips that were dangerously close.

“Maybe a date?” He pressed his lips on yours, consuming every sense you had.  

If HYDRA or AIM or SHEILD or even the Hulk, smashed down your doors, you wouldn’t have noticed.

You did notice, however, was how naturally the two of you felt together.  

It was good.  It felt good and Steve was happy, so you were happy too.  

You went on missions after your night together and you moved as a single unit, flowing between each other and reading the others mind before the words came out.  

It was good.  Everything, despite the world going to hell around you was good.