My Neighbor, Mr. Rogers

Chapter Thirty-Six - The Return of Jimmy Blue Eyes

I've finally moved out of sickbay, as I've taken to calling it. Just yesterday, Steve and James helped move all my things that had been in temporary storage into a room in the Tower. They thought it'd be in my best interest to stay there until Bill is apprehended. I didn't argue since I currently have no income and can live in the Tower rent-free. Besides, I still have some trouble getting around by myself and these headaches are making it difficult for me to concentrate on any one thing for any length of time.

Not to mention the nightmares or the torture-induced slight agoraphobia that I've been hiding from the team.

Strangely, the rest of me is doing quite nicely. My right arm is completely healed. The stab wound in my left leg is almost healed. Even the progress that my mangled right leg and my gunshot wound have made seems to surprise Doctor Reilly. She mentioned wanting another round of x-rays for my left arm and hand. Apparently I'll most likely be able to switch to crutches soon. But I'm healing much faster than I should be. The Doc ordered another round of blood tests earlier today, just to be safe.

Tony was kind enough to provide me with a motorized wheelchair for the bit of time that I have left being unable to walk. Trying to wheel yourself around with an arm in a cast and an entire set of fingers splinted leaves you going in circles.

It's bedtime. Well, lie-in-bed-and-read-for-a-couple-of-hours-before-surrenduring-to-sleep time. I've just finished brushing my teeth and washing my face. All that's left is to get into bed. As this is my first night on my own and without the aid of a nurse, I have to figure out how to get up into bed without hurting myself. Why the heck would Tony buy a bed this freaking tall? Completely absurd. No one needs a bed this far off the ground. It leads to a lot of groaning – mostly from frustration but also a good deal from incidental pain.

'Mostly healed' apparently means that I'm still not enough 'actually healed' to not hurt like crazy when I push myself too far. Especially when I nail my right leg against the end table.

I'm halfway on my bed, like a beached whale, and partially grumbling into my blankets when my door flies open. I flop my head to the side to see a concerned looking James moving to help me.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I answer, waving him away and resisting the urge to quote Megara in 'Hercules'. Doing this on my own has become a matter of pride at this point.

"Are you sure?" he asks, justifiably unconvinced. "You've been making an awful lot of noise for being 'fine'."

"Do you see a spider? I totally have everything under control." I huff as I try to squirm farther up onto my bed. I soon stop when I feel the remaining stitches on my torso pulling too tightly. I drop my face into my mattress and groan. "James?" I ask with my voice completely muffled.

"Yes, Anne?" I don't need to look at him to know he's smirking.

"Would you please help me?"

He moves closer, but instead of picking me up like I'm Pinocchio pre-Blue Fairy, there's a mechanical whir and my chair lifts until the seat is level with my bed.

I groan again, this time in embarrassment. James helps me turn over and get situated comfortably. After he shows me the location of the magic button on my wheelchair, I say, "That'll make things a lot easier. Why didn't Tony tell me about it when he gave this to me?"

"Do you really think he would tell you everything this does? I'm sure there are all kinds of tricks this can do that are completely abnormal."

I nod. "Of course Tony pimped my ride and didn't give me a manual."

"Hey," James gets my attention again. "Do you know what today is?"

"Thursday?"

"It's been one month, plus a week. I believe you know what that means."

I make a face. "Are you sure it's been that long? I mean-"

"JARVIS, how long has it been since Anne and I were in the training room at the same time?"

"Five weeks and one day, sir."

James grins maniacally at me.

My eyes widen in false amazement. "You're so generous, really, giving me so much time to recuperate after my traumatic experiences before forcing me into another one."

"Come on, Anne. You promised. It's been a month and it's clear you still like him."

I bite my lip and look away. "That's not true, actually. I don't 'like' him." I glance back to see him looking unconvinced. "I sort of just let you believe that..."

"Anne-" he starts to protest

"I love him, okay?" I rub my face in frustration. "You're not just making me tell your best friend that I have some piddly crush on him. No. You're going to make me tell him that I love him- that I'm in love with him."

He doesn't answer, so I look up only to see him with his arms crossed and grinning from ear to ear. It's disconcerting. I've never seen him smile so wide – not even for Oreos. He's showing teeth.

"What?" I finally ask, too uncomfortable to stay in silence any longer.

He reins his smile in. "All the more reason to tell him. He deserves to know the truth. The whole truth."

I sigh. "I know. I'll tell him tomorrow."

James raises an eyebrow.

"Right after breakfast, I promise." Steve said he'd make me breakfast again tomorrow, so I know he'll be in the tower then. At least this way I'll get one last, great homemade breakfast before most likely irrevocably ruining my relationship with my best friend.

Silver lining.

James smiles again as he stands. "Great! Well, night!" and he trips merrily off into the sunset.

Weirdo.    

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A/N: So this was super short and obviously filler. What's up with that? Someone should totally get on the author's case. Psh. Shoddy craftsmanship, substandard product, so much disappointment. *Tsk*tsk*

...

Side note: did you imagine Bucky actually skipping into the sunset even though they're in the Tower? 'Cause I did and it was beautiful. I'm still wiping away the tears from being so deeply moved.

I'm so full of garbage XD Why are you still reading this?

*Sigh* At least it seems like Anne is finally going to tell Steve about her feelings, so...progress on that front? Maybe? We'll see. I might decide to blow up the building instead. So much power, so little self-control.

Muahahahaa.

...

Yeah, none of you believe I'm maniacal, do you?...

I may just change your minds.