Tori

     "Good evening, ma'am," a woman greets, standing behind a bar.
     The room has a few empty tables with four chairs at each. The left side, the opposite of the front door, is the bar. A woman in a green t-shirt with the restaurant's name printed across it stands behind the counter, cleaning a wine glass with a towel. The room's dim lighting gives it a relaxed ambiance.
     "Good evening," I reply, stepping to a barstool.
     "So, what can I get you, lass?" she asks, brushing a strand of ginger hair behind her ear.
     "A water's fine," I state, sitting on the barstool.
     "Really?" she questions me. "You'd think someone here this late would get a beer, or something."
     "I'm really not the drinking type," I laugh, looking down at the wooden countertop.
     "So, what brings ya here, lass?" she inquires, filling a glass with water.
     "Nothing much," I say. "Just trying to escape the chaos up in Manhattan."
     "Ah, yes," she breathes, setting the glass in front of me. "I've heard all day about an Avenger who is now a renegade from S.H.I.E.L.D.."
     "Really?" I mutter. "I guess everyone has heard the story differently."
     "So, ya know what happened?"
     "Not exactly," I say, swirling the water around in its glass. "Just, no one really leaves S.H.I.E.L.D.. The place sticks with them. They get close to people and they can't leave them behind."
     "It sounds like ya know what you're talking about, eh?"
     "Yeah, I've been in many situations like that." I say softly, picturing Steve and Tony in my head.
     "Well, I wouldn't want to go back up there for a while," she responds. "Ya live up there?"
     "Yeah, I do,"
     "Well, you're more than welcome to say here," she offers. "I wouldn't mind havin' a little company around this place."
     "You really mean that I can stay here for a while?" I chime, almost dropping my glass.
     "Yes, of course, lass," the young woman giggles.
"W-Wait, why are you letting a complete stranger stay here?" I question.
"I just have a feeling about ya," she says. "Ya aren't like the others. You're sweet and gentle, I can just sense it."
My eyes widen and I take a sip of my water.
"Now, what's ya your name, miss?" she asks.
     "T-Tori," I gulp.
     I try my best not to giggle at the crazy idea that pops into my head.
     "Rogers." I add, smirking.
     Hey, I'm playing out my fantasies here. And I don't think that anyone else would want to be judged if their life was on the line.
     "Tori," she repeats. "That's a lovely name. I'm Ainsley Maxwell."
     We briefly shake hands and return to our conversation. She smiles at me, her white teeth glinting from the small amount of light.
"Are ya ready to go upstairs, Tori?" Ainsley asks.
"Yes," I say. "Please, if there's anything I can do to repay you, just let me know."
"I'll think about it," she giggles.

•••

I bolt upright from the squeaking bed, breathing heavily. My heart beats against my chest. I saw Steve in my nightmare, which terrifies me. He was running through a H.Y.D.R.A. base and was brainwashed - supposedly permanently. He tried to strangle me and was attempting to kill me. When I was taking my last few breaths, he remembered everything. He was cradling me in his arms when I took my last breath.
Tears start to run down my cheeks. All I want to know is if he is safe, that's it. For all I know, he may be being tortured, maybe even dead. But I can't afford to think like that. The only thing I can think of was the last thing I did with him, which was nod. I wish I could change that. I tried with the note, but I'm not even sure if he read it.
     When I saw Clint today, he looked so different. I know for a fact that Steve would have been hopeful, so would the others. But Clint, he has experience. He knows when to think one thing and another time to think the opposite. The look of absolute doubt on his face just proves my theory.
     People like me don't know who they are, or where their passion lies. I know my passion, I want to protect the innocent. However, I don't know who I am. I'm so unpredictable and emotional that anything can happen. I only know one person that is the same, and we know each other more than ourselves.
That person is Steve.