AMERICA'S POV

"Morning, Nat," I say through a yawn, passing her to pour myself a cup of coffee. We've been in the Netherlands three days now, and we've been laying low. "Where's Steve?"

"He and Sam went out early this morning. Apparently, there's some massive gang dealing drugs in a neighborhood close to here. They're trying to get information so we can decide who to send out and fix it."

I sit across from her at the kitchen table. "Who do they think they'll send?"

"They don't know. I personally think they should send the two of us. We're better at undercover. They tend to mess that stuff up. We're more careful. It would be safer for us to go."

"Oh," I say, my spirits falling. I really don't want to go on any kind of mission right now. "Okay."

Nat raises her eyebrow at me as she stirs her tea. "What's wrong? These last few days you've seemed down. Are you feeling all right?"

I shrug. "It's nothing. I'm fine."

"You're usually a better liar than that." She smirks. "You sure you're completely fine?"

"I'm not really in the mood for this right now, Natasha." I take a sip of my coffee and stare out the dust-covered window. "How was the couch last night?"

"Don't bring up the couch."

"You got it. How long do you think we'll be here?" I ask. I kind of want to go exploring with Steve later. I know this isn't a vacation, and we still are wanted by the government, but I love seeing new places.

"I don't know. As long as this job pans out, maybe a little longer. Why, got somewhere to go?" She teases. None of us have anywhere to go home to. We're all we've got.

I go out on a run to clear my mind, the one thing in my life besides Steve that hasn't changed. The wind through my now-brown hair feels like freedom. I might have a metal hand, no place to live, a price on my head, and broken relationships, but I'm still America. I'm almost sure of it.

I tend to be the most optimistic one in our little band of vigilantes, which no one would have expected. But I spent five years of my life hiding from authorities, jumping city to city with no safety net or backup plan. This little adventure just added two years to the list. And as I always think but never say, this is far better than Hydra.

When I return to the motel, sweaty and out of breath, Sam and Steve are sitting on the couch with Natasha.

I snag a bottle of water and plop down next to Steve. "Morning."

"Hi, Mer," Steve and Sam chorus.

"So? What did you guys find?" I ask, getting right to the point. If there's a mission here, I want to know.

"We were right," Sam answers. "There's a massive gang about four blocks from here. Everyone in the area's afraid of them, and they've been dealing drugs. We think you and Nat should take this one."

My heart sinks. "Really?"

"Yeah, really. Why? Is there a problem with that?" Steve asks, concerned.

I shake my head. "No, I just... I don't know. I don't really want to right now. Can we send someone else?" I've never asked to get out of a mission before, and shock is evident on every face around me.

"Um, Mer, out of the four of us, you really are the best choice, even over Natasha," Steve says slowly. "Your speed is key for undercover missions like this."

"I know, it's just that I don't really feel up to this right now." Not with everything that's going around in my mind right now. "I'm sorry."

"It really should be you," Sam insists, but there's hesitation in his voice. "You'd be the safest, it's the best for everyone. It's only a few days tops."

"Can't you see that I don't want to?" I snap, throwing my hands up as I storm into the bedroom. I need some space.

Once I'm alone, I close my eyes and will myself not to cry. I hate secrets. I've always hated them, and after a year, I'm ready to explode with this one. I sit on the edge of the bed and grip the blankets.

"Mer?" The door cracks open and Steve steps in. His blue eyes are worried as they fall on me. "What's wrong?"

"I don't want to do this," I whisper. He sits next to me and tilts my head so I'm looking at him.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want to. Is that a problem?"

"Actually, when you're the safest one to send out of the four of us and you won't go, yeah, it is."

"I'm sorry, then," I retort. Steve sighs and tries to take my hand, but I pull away.

"What's actually wrong?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

"Don't give me that," he says, his temper slowly rising. "You've been miserable these last few days, everyone's noticed it. You're not acting like yourself. Why?"

I swallow back a sob. "Not now, Steve."

"Why? Why not now? I feel like you've been shutting me out, America! I want to help you!"

"Then don't send me!" I yell, springing off of the bed. I begin pacing erratically. "I'm sorry, but I really don't want to take this one. Please don't make me."

"I'm not going to do that unless you tell me what's going on. We can't put the others at risk because you just don't feel like going," he says firmly, standing as well. "Nat's getting ready. The sooner you leave, the sooner you get back. I'd get ready as well."

He slams the door as he leaves. There's no fighting this, so I resign myself and get ready, just like he said. I'm angry at Steve, but I'm more angry at myself. He would have let me stay if I told him the truth.

When I emerge from the room ten minutes later in dark clothing and carrying more hidden knives than I'd care to admit, I give Steve a kiss, but it feels forced.

"We'll see you boys in a few days," Nat says, trying to alleviate the awkwardness in our goodbye. With only thin walls separating us, everyone knows about our fight.

"Stay safe," Sam says. "America, try not to get shot."

I roll my eyes. "See you guys soon."

IT'S SNOWING OUTSIDE RIGHT NOW!