Meant to Be

Chick stared in awe at the figure who sat next to her.

“You should drink something,” Captain Rogers commented quietly, motioning his head towards the glass of water he had moved towards her on the side table. His voice was deeper than she had heard over the TV. She could barely make out the details of his face in the dark, but saw that he had 5 o’clock shadow and shaggy hair. He had been MIA for so long, everyone thought he might be dead.

But, of course the Soldier would be accompanying the Captain.

Chick’s eyelids felt heavy. Her hand searched for the morphine control, tapping up the dose a few notches. Rogers’ gaze floated from her hand to her face.

“You sure you need that?” Chick took a deep breath as she felt a calm wash over her.

“Very,” she said hoarsely, sighing and staring flatly at him. She reached out to pick up the glass of water, and downed it quickly. This was her first time trying to use her numb arm. If she hadn’t seen herself pick it up, she wouldn’t have known she was holding anything at all. She applied firm pressure and was able to feel that the pads of her fingers spread. The glass clattered on the wood when she placed it back next to the plastic pitcher.

“How can I help, Captain?” Chick asked, blinking her heavy lids slowly. Rogers’ face glowed in what little light had filtered into the room. Her mouth floated into a smile and her eyes unfocused on the halo that surrounded him.

“I just wanted to apologize,” he said timidly. “I feel responsible for all of this.” Chick’s expression twitched with annoyance.

“All of what?”

“Your leg… this procedure. I’m sorry.” Chick narrowed her eyes at him.

“What do you know about my leg?”

“You were on patrol in DC four years ago- the day that HYDRA’s ships went down. Your leg was pinned under some of the wreckage and you ended up losing it. Bucky and I… we want to let you know how sorry we are.” Chick felt her fingers twitch with the sudden spike of anger she felt.

“Then why isn’t he here?” Rogers looked down at his clasped hands, not responding. “Right. You keep protecting him, Captain Rogers. And the rest of us suffer for it. If he’s really changed, and he knew about me and my leg, I’m sure he’d be here with you. Probably during the day. Probably a little more remorseful than this. Stark let me know I wasn’t welcome to go anywhere near him, and I imagine you don’t want him near me, either. Does he know about the outcome of my procedure at all?” He looked up at Chick sheepishly.

“He’s been through a lot, Ms. Abbott.” Chick took in a heavy breath, raising her eyebrows and readying herself to yell. “Not that you haven’t also- been through a lot. I’m sorry- that’s not what I meant.” She shut her mouth and shook her head at him.

“Thanks for the visit, Captain, but unless you have a time machine to offer me, your presence is no longer necessary.” Chick closed her eyes dismissively, burying her head further into the pillow.

“I would like to help you with your therapy, Ms. Abbott.” Chick opened her eyes slowly, scrunching her face with disgust and turning to look at him.

“Is that what’s gonna ease your conscious, Captain?” she asked sardonically. He took in a breath, looking up at the ceiling and trying to gather his thoughts.

“This isn’t about me.” Chick stared at him for a few moments, trying to decipher his gesture.

“But, it’s not about me, either… is it?” He shook his head dismissively.

“Of course it is,” he replied defensively.

“You’ll be sitting on your hands waiting for your friend to get through with surgery. You’ll wanna know how the worst case scenario plays out. You’ll need to know that it’s not the end of the world for him if this goes south.” Steve shook his head again, but didn’t say anything for a couple of seconds. Chick’s eyes were glaring lazilly at him. They looked black in the darkness and he couldn’t look away.

“It isn’t like that, Ms. Abbott.” Chick rolled her eyes and close her lids once again, settling back into the pillow.

“Captain Rogers, I don’t care what you do. But if you call me Ms. Abbott one more time I’ll smack you.”

“Charlotte?”

“You can call me Chick.”

“Oh-” he said, confused. She opened a single eye to leer at him.

“It’s my name.”

“Oh…” Chick closed her eye again.

“My dad started calling me Chick when I was really young. We used to watch a lot of Abbott and Costello movies together.” Steve sat up straighter with a surprised smile.

“No kidding,” he mused. Chick smirked, eyes still closed, glad someone finally understood the reference.

“My favorite was Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. I used to watch it over and over again cause I was completely in love with Bud Abbott. I thought that us sharing a last name was significant. Anyway, his character’s name in the movie is Chick Young. I was a ‘young chick.’ It stuck,” she said with a shrug. Her voice was sleepy.

“I never got to see that one,” he commented solemnly.

“I left the DVD in my other hospital gown. Otherwise I’d pop it in for you,” she teased.

“That’s too bad.” Her eyes were still closed, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “Maybe there’s a copy laying around. I’ll see what I can do.”

“Still trying to ease your conscious,” she said with a sigh, feeling a touch of vertigo, even with closed eyes.

“Aren’t you supposed to like me? I thought you worked for the IEA department.” Chick now felt like she was dreaming.

“...Can’t make you work for it?” she slurred. “They won’t want me back now anyways.”

“Why wouldn’t they?”

“Damaged,” she muttered. “Damaged.”

“You aren’t,” he replied earnestly. “You’ve been through a lot but you can get past this. It doesn’t mean you aren’t the same person you were before the surgery.”

“Thanks a mil, Cap. Too kind.”

“Chick, I’m serious. It’s gonna be okay.” Chick furrowed her brows and opened her eyes, frowning and craning her neck to look at him.

“You shouldn’t get a girl’s hopes up.” His eyes were determined. He leaned towards her and placed his hand on her arm, just above her wrist implants. Chick stared at his hand feeling a wave of emotion hit her. “I can’t even feel that,” she admitted. She felt sadness now. The anger had passed and she felt the loss fully. Her eyesight went blurry and she tried to blink the haze away.

“Hey,” he whispered. He put his other hand on her shoulder, trying to comfort her. “I’m sorry, please don’t cry.”

She couldn’t even tell that she was crying.

“I thought I wanted to feel nothing. I wished for it. I hate myself for that,” Chick said, her voice wavering as she spoke- as if it was giving out, though she couldn’t feel the difference. She tried to breathe in, but her nose was blocked and she sniffled pathetically. She took in deep breaths through her mouth, looking up at the bright white ceiling and willing herself to stop crying. She cleared her throat before speaking again. “This is my life now,” she whispered, looking away from Captain Rogers timidly. Her vertigo intensified, forcing her to squeeze her eyes shut tightly. He removed his hands.

“Chick, can I lower the morphine?” he asked cautiously. Chick’s teeth squeaked as she accidentally ground them together in anger. She turned back to him, opening her eyes again.

“No.” His hand was already on the remote.

“You don’t need it,” he insisted.

“Yes. I do.” She tasted blood and sighed in annoyance- she had bit her tongue again. “Shit,” she hissed.

“You can do this without it.”

“What does it matter to you?” she asked, squinting suspiciously. “It’s none of your business.”

“I just… I know you’re not in physical pain, but you are in emotional pain. And this,” he said, gesturing to the morphine drip. “This isn’t doing you any good.” Chick rolled her eyes.

“Jesus, Rogers, get off your high horse.” He sighed.

“Alright, fine. It’s your choice.”

“Correct,” she replied shortly. The room spun. She tried to focus on meeting Rogers’ gaze.

“But, you don’t look too good, Chick.”

“Well, I’m supposed to be sleeping, aren’t I?” she asked rhetorically. “You should probably go. Maybe Barnes is up for gossiping.” He pressed his lips together tightly, frowning.

“Okay. I’ll go.” He stood up, but paused before leaving. “You aren’t alone in this, Chick.” She closed her eyes again.

“Goodnight, Captain.”

A few moments after she heard the door open and close, Chick thrust her eyes open and sat up. She pulled herself across the bed and reached for a pink, plastic basin from behind the pitcher of water on the table. She vomited into the basin, throwing up the water she had drunk.

Once the water had come up, she continued to retch, but her stomach was empty. When she was finally finished, she breathed heavily and leaned back into bed. She put a hand on her forehead, feeling that it smoothed slickly across her skin. She was sweating.

She threw the blanket off of herself, continuing to gasp for air. She hoped she would pass out, but she didn’t. It was a while before her body balanced out again. She heard her stomach growl, but didn’t care.

She looked down, staring at her metal leg that shined in what little light that filtered in through the window. When she had moved, it twisted awkwardly, so moved to fix it. It was heavy but she managed to straighten it out again. When she saw black spots cloud her vision she fell backwards onto her pillow. She hoped that she hadn’t ripped stitches or made her injuries worse.

When she woke up, she would speak to a therapist and then she would begin walking again. If she wasn’t going to die, yet, she didn’t want to hinder her ability to move forward- preferably away from Stark, Rogers, and Barnes.

Eventually, the room was no longer spinning; her vision had cleared; the morphine had worn off; she felt empty.