The Keepers of Onslaught (Avengers FF #4)

2 - Normality

AN: Dedicated to @PARRISHABEL :D Thank you so much!!

Sleep never sounded so good.

I've thought it before, but past me has no idea about the shit storm ahead of her. That whole year still haunts me. But now? Sleepless nights were now the bane of my existence.

I opened my groggy eyes and stretched my arms above my head before sighing to myself quietly. The apartment was silent, but there were many noises on the outside. Cars. Parents yelling at kids to go to school before they're late. Yelling. Honking. People on the phone a floor above. Showers going off. Televisions on cartoons or the news. It was only eight in the morning and everything was already so loud.

Did I want to get out of bed? No...no. Not really. There was nothing to do, and honestly, the lack of energy made it worse. I closed my eyes as I listened to the neighborhood. Relax...Relax...

Then silence.

I let out a small gasp. I couldn't move. My limbs froze to their spot. Panic built up inside of me, twisting my stomach every which way. An excruciating ache shot up both of my legs from the knee up. Limbs snapping. Bones shattering. The chorus of screams came back. An explosion. The death song of my passed friends. Yelling out, collapsing onto Kitty for dear life.

My body jolted up from the bed, and I clung to the wall to keep my balance. I inhaled deeply as I shook my head to get the sounds out. They always came back. The memories hadn't faded. Sometimes I could see them crisp and clear, as if I were living in the moment. Others, it seemed like I watched a movie, starring me and the horrible nightmare of battle.

My hand clawed at my chest for a moment in an attempt to push out all of the emotions piling out of the vault within my heart. To get my mind off of it, I rushed to the kitchen and immediately started making breakfast. Shaking, I put some coffee grinds into the maker. Focus...Focus...

Exhale.

One breath. Two. Three.

My heart rate decreased steadily. The shake in my hands stayed, yet no matter how much water I spilled, I persisted. Daily tasks kept my mind off of...that. The past. The horrible ending to the story I chose to be a part of. I pushed the button on the coffee maker, getting it set up for Steve's arrival. He always loved fresh coffee in the morning. I brushed my hair out of my face with the back of my hand and sighed.

We're all okay. Don't worry.

Keys jangled behind the front door, and after a few seconds of fiddling, Steve opened the front door. Somehow, his exhausted eyes sparkled bluer than the crashing waves of an ocean. Adrenaline rush, maybe? I don't know. Either way, it's better than the dead look in his eye as he stares off into nothingness some nights. Steve ruffled his matted hair and smiled that pretty boy smile at something that was said.

Sam Wilson followed close behind, both of them sweating through their work out gear. Sam laughed wholeheartedly, patting Steve on the back. His dark eyes landed on me; his lips stayed curled up into a smile. "Hey Lilly," he declared, sitting down at the kitchen table and set down a new newspaper. The stench of pure man and must fluttered throughout the room.

"Hey." I waved subtly, putting on a smile for both of them. "Coffee should be ready in a few minutes." Steve brushed his fingertips against mine as he passed by, lingering for a second before letting go. He talked to Sam a bit more about the previous conversation as he got some water.

Their run lasted longer today. They might've decided to take a longer route. Got ambushed by a few fans. Maybe Steve talked about what was going on. In the underbelly of our lives, there was unhappiness. Harsh memories. Abandonment issues. Steve had more strength than I did to confront what was really going on within our minds.