The Unknown Enemy ∘ Marvel [3]

Chapter 19: Dealing with Aftershocks

"A bit more comfortable?"

"Surprisingly yes."

The whole room felt stale, and both sets of lungs were constricted. It felt like walking onto an old battlefield, stepping around mess of debris in hopes no more bombs were left to explode. The situation was both tense, but the familiarity and warmth felt like an odd mix to a toxic environment.

"Well, at least you aren't sharing a room with a dozen dead flowers anymore." Steve commented, sitting down on the chair both doctors had left from before.

Sienna painted on that nice face that he had gotten too accustomed to. It was too sweet, too inviting. It was a mask she put on that he really, really wished was genuine, "Thank God for that. The overflowing bouquets thing I'm sure was done with good intentions from everyone, but it just made the whole room feel smaller." 

She tilted her head to the side, offering a spirited smirk, quirking her eyebrow up in hope it would establish a less hostile feeling among the two.

Scratch that. It wasn't hostile, not in the least. Both were just walking on thin ice, and were praying that they wouldn't fall away when it cracked.

Steve tried to return the gesture, but he hated overused small talk almost as much as her, "You know, when you do that, it almost fools me to thinking you're alright."

Sienna resisted the urge to just let this small charade fall. She let a few pieces break off; the smile turned into a thin line, eyes falling the slightest bit, but kept a lively tone, "You're starting to get much better at this aren't you? Reading expressions?"

"Learn from the best."

"Natasha's not really the greatest of teachers, but she can-"

"Sienna."

Her gaze flicked down to her lap, hands curling her sheets together tightly. A sigh escaped her lips, and it came off as a little annoyed, "I know what you're going to ask. The answer is I was just overloaded. It won't happen again."

"That wasn't what I was gonna ask."

"Yes it was. You just didn't get the answer you wanted." Sienna fought the urge to grit her teeth, opting for clenching her jaw and not looking Steve in the eye. There it was, the first sign of bitterness seeping through the cracks. She didn't want to talk, at the same time she really wished she could.

Steve noticed all of this, knowing she was uncomfortable. He didn't mean to pity her, not the sense that she didn't deserve it. She was above that, but it hurt to see her in such a state. In the years he'd known Agent Firman, he'd never seen her so defensive, so vulnerable. That was the word.

Vulnerable. He'd thought Sienna had been open with him before, seeing glimpses of raw emotions from unfiltered happiness to peeks of familiar war she seemed to be constantly fighting in her own head. Now? Ever since she'd returned from what he assumed had been some mortal version of hell, it was easy to say there was change. She viewed everything as some weapon or trick, therefore putting herself in some type of lockdown mode.

She was weak and vulnerable, therefore logic decided there had to be some kind of defense mechanism that he concluded SHIELD and life itself (he could only really assume, considering he didn't know much) had programmed into her. And she was pretty good at keeping it up indefinitely.

So Steve rephrased the question, "Are you okay?"

To this she didn't move, instead just kept her prior form as if he'd said nothing at all, "Nothing much. No real damage, not even cuts on my fists-"

"That's not what I meant."

She finally sat back against the bed, sighing once more as her face completely fell. Evidence of stress was easier to read now, with lips that looked weighed down and tense crease forming on her forehead. Sienna let breath escape, gathering it back in once she could, "I'll be okay."