Not A Bad Thing || Captain America/Steve Rogers [COMPLETED/BEING EDITED]

Chapter 13: Can't Force Us

It has been a hectic week. As if we were being tested by a higher power, a bunch of obstacles were being thrown at the whole team. 

One of those tests being that Bruce nearly Hulked out, causing us to be in a panic and we tried everything to calm him down. We went from talking him down to playing lullabies to almost tranquilizing him. But what really got him to calm down was my method: a lot of food. I just chucked a whole bunch of fruit snacks into his mouth. I was only able to think of food as a solution because I was also very hungry.

Fortunately, after that fiasco, we were very calm and able to live together, thanks to a speech that I delivered whilst standing on top of the coffee table with a glass of wine in my hand.

"Ahem," I cleared my throat. "I know living together has been rough. Especially for the women."

"Yeah!" Natasha shouted angrily, raising her fist in the air. All the men rolled their eyes at her, wondering why she was so against men. 

"But our differences make our team better. If we all had a super suit like Tony, that's all we're going to have at our disposal. All of our different skills make up for the characteristics we don't have. We're like a machine. Without a part, it won't work properly. The Avengers is one big machine, and without any of us, we're as good as scrap metal. Let us work out our differences so we can all live under one roof."

After a few seconds of stifled laughter from Tony, everyone began to slowly clap. 

"How inspiring," Tony snickered to Thor. 

"Oh, shut up," I spat, shoving him. He stumbled back, hitting the side of a couch and falling back onto the cushions. 

Thor leaned over Tony and said, "I think the woman did a fascinating and motivating speech." 

With a smile, I bowed over and over again at each person, like the actors at the end of a play. 

"Ky, you've had a little too much to drink," Clint said, taking my hand and helping me down from the table. 

And it turned out that I was very much drunk. In the morning, I woke up with a pounding headache and spent the day laying on the couch watching reality TV shows. It wasn't my normal choice of entertainment, but I was in the process of finding the right genre for me. I used to watch true crime documentaries until I came across one that was made on a foreign diplomat that I had killed. It was interesting to see their theories, though it could not be any further from the truth, but it was also a cruel reminder of the person I used to be. I decided to watch a reality show because it made me out of touch with my own reality.

Tony walked into the room, took notice of my choice of entertainment, and said, "See what I'm saying? People would kill to see an Avengers reality show! What's better than witnessing the everyday life of a bunch of heroes led by a handsome and brilliant man?" 

I paused the show in the middle of the main couple arguing about their wedding venue. "I hate to break it to you, but Steve was calling all the shots."

He had a little smirk on his face, which made me regret my last words, even though I wasn't sure why I should have. 

"I was hoping you'd say that." 

"Why?" I questioned, standing up and following him into the kitchen. 

He pulled a loaf of bread out of the cupboard. "By you saying that Steve led the Avengers, you called him both handsome and brilliant."

"Yeah, so?" 

I decided that fighting them wasn't going to help me if they kept teasing me about my so-called crush on Steve. Instead I accepted that I did give the man a compliment but reinforced the idea that I had no interest in him at all.

"Kylie, you are a grown woman and it's okay to notice boys if you find them attractive —"

"You are the absolute worst, Stark."

I made a bee-line to my room and crashed into Steve, who had just finished a workout. With the back of my hand, I wiped down the sweat that had transferred onto my face. 

"Gross," I groaned, this time using my shirt to get whatever was left. 

"I'm so sorry," he said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. "I didn't see you there."

"No, I crashed into you. It's my fault. You probably couldn't see me because I'm a little short compared to you."

"Height doesn't matter much. You still have one hell of a fight," he shrugged. 

This began an awkward chain reaction of me smiling, him chuckling, me laughing, then smiling again. There was the same feeling in my stomach that I had every time I talked to him. 

"So..." I trailed off, smiling awkwardly at him.

"So..." he repeated, looking around. 

I jerked my thumb to the right, saying, "I'm just gonna go. See you later, when you're not sweaty and gross."

"Will do."

As we parted ways, I mentally slammed the palm of my hand onto my forehead multiple times. I felt stupid for not having the capacity to walk away sooner, before the whole back and forth smiles and laughs. If Tony or anyone else in the team saw that, they would have been on my back all day long.

I flopped onto my bed, burying my face in the sheets. The bed shook slightly from side to side from the sudden weight.

Lifting my gaze, I come face to face with the picture of me and Coulson.

"How the hell did I get here, Coulson?" I whispered.

The past five years had been rewarding. SHIELD was probably the best thing to happen to me. Coulson taught me self-respect and accepting my mistakes, and not to mention, he turned me into a complete badass with all the right morals. I've made friends within the organization and saved the world from terrorists and aliens. Nothing seemed so perfect in my life, and I was close to getting closure with my past. 

Going on missions were very good stress relievers as well. A good punch to someone's jaw really relaxes someone like me, especially if that person had been hurting innocent people and animals. 

The Avengers became the family I never had. We were all very close, and finally being able to put up with Tony's narcissism proves just how great of a bond we have.

I just wished that Coulson was here to see it. He died over six months ago, but I still couldn't wrap my head around it. Some days, I walked into work expecting him to be walking around, smiling at everyone passing by while he strutted around in his fancy suit. 

Seeing him like that on that day with a bloody hole in his chest and that blank look in his eyes continued to haunt me. It was something that appeared in my dreams often and I'd wake up with tears staining my pillow. I missed him. 

In the midst of my thoughts, I drifted off into sleep. After God knows how many hours, someone slowly opened the door and shook me awake. When I opened my eyes, Steve loomed over me. 

After clearing his throat, he said, "Tony insisted that I told you that we're about to eat dinner."

"Why do you look so unsteady?" I questioned, noticing how he played with his thumbs and his eyes had darted around the room numerous times in the past minute.

"The whole team has been really pushy about me talking to you."

I sat up straight, saying, "They're just trying to play matchmaker for two people who aren't ready for a relationship."

"Yeah, I totally agree. They can't force us to be in love, right?"

"Right." 

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