A/N: If my contact's notation is correct, you should be able to actually play this on a piano.
Thank you so much for the anon who suggested this chapter!
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As his fingers ran over the keys, the world he knew slipped away. Nothing else mattered to him but the melody.
B, E, G, F#, E, B, A, F#, E, G, F#, D# F, B, E, G, F#, E, B, D, Db, C, Ab, C, B, Bb, (↓) Bb, G, E
The notes. That was what he loved about the piano. The succession of notes. Each one had a reason for being. One key wrong and the timing would be completely ruined.
The soft sound built up a gentle but safe barrier around him, which helped to relieve some of the tension that, had come to nestle in the muscles of his shoulders and neck. In return, this allowed the blond-haired fellow to drop his own personal defences.
As the exhausted male continued to "tickle the ivories" so to say, his dispirited brain began to wander, as did his focus on the keys.
It had been four months since he had returned home. Four months since his former life had been returned to him. Yet he did not truly feel at peace, the damaged male doubted that he ever would again.
Of course he had moments of solitude- brief gaps in his unstable existence- that allowed him to forget about his troubles and enjoy the idea of being alive.
A luxury that could have been stolen from him, had he continued to be held captive by his enemies oversea.
He tried desperately not to think about that dreadful time in his life. All that mattered to him now was the melody.
G, B, G, B, G, C, B, Bb, F#, G, B, Bb, ( ↓ )Bb, B, B (^), G, B, G, B, G, D, Db, C, Ab, C, B, Bb, Bb (↓ ), G, E
But he could not flee his past, the present was not yet ready to fully embrace him. For when he caught sight of his scar marred hands, he was back in that awful cell. That dark, grey cell that permanently smelled of despair and decay.
The acrid scent filled his lungs and cut off his oxygen supply. He choked, coughed, gasped for a short, sweet intake of breath.
His pattern of notes was disturbed, his fingers lost their pace and the gentle melody was ruined.
Breath in. One. Two. Three. Breath out. Two. Three. He counted in his head, in attempt to remember what the lady at the hospital had taught him.
All those months in the hospital recovering. All of that time stolen by a terrible war.
His eyes watered as he spluttered, hands pulled away from the keys to cover his mouth. The room now silent, bar his distressed rasps.
The male didn't like the quiet, he wanted music. Sweet, beautiful music to overwhelm the surrouding atmosphere. Not his inner darkness. He scoulded himself for being so weak once again. He may have been broken- torn apart mentally- by those whom inflicted pain upon him but he refused to let the pale-the memories rule his life any longer.
With all of his might, he fought away his demons. His fingers once more found their way back to the cool, soothing keys.
Once again- slower, more melancholic this time, he began to play the piano piece. The more of the strain he performed, the further he pushed his inner torment away.
There would come a time when he would need to face his trauma face on but that night, was neither the time or the place to do so.
Minutes passed and soon melted into what he was sure was hours. When the theme once again ended, instead of starting from the beginning, he finally stopped and closed the lid of the piano.
Standing up, the stretched out his overworked limbs.
He walked over to the large window that overlooked the magnificent city, London.
Owning one of the best views in town certainly had it's perks. In the early morning light, the skyscrapers and apartment buildings were bathed in a gentle, violet hue. Everything looked powdery soft, unlike at night when the street lights were jarring and the city was a blur of noise and life.
That morning was different, for once he saw beauty in the landscape before him. The rising sun usually only ever reminded him now that it was going to be another day he had to face as a changed man. However, as Steve Trevor watched the sunrise, he agreed that yes, he was changed but maybe- just maybe- he could use that to his advantage?
