"I'm hungry!" Clint whines. I throw a couch cushion at him.

"You've been back here for ten minutes and you're already complaining?"

"You know, you're mean. Why didn't Tony leave me with the nicer of America's Most Patriotic Couple?"

"Because Steve is more responsible than I am, so he has work," I reply, flipping through a chemistry book I snagged from Bruce's bookshelf. I don't like chemistry at all, I realize, but I do like learning. Maybe I'll find something more interesting to read later. "I'm hungry too. Who's night is it for dinner?" We keep a system: seven Avengers for seven days of the week. I'm on Wednesdays. Of course, we usually have to switch things around because someone's always off somewhere else, but it keeps the tower running.

"It's Tuesday, right? That's Tony's night." He chuckles and I groan. Tony is notoriously bad at planning his night for dinner. Once we got cereal. Another time we got undercooked ramen noodles. I didn't even know that was possible. The clock reads seven. There's no way he has dinner, not when he's been cooped up in the lab all day. "So do you wanna order a pizza or something?"

"I know this really great place in Chinatown," I suggest. "I could grab us some takeout."

"That sounds great!" He says, grinning. "Here's twenty bucks, can you get however many egg rolls that buys?"

"Sure. Let me go see what everyone else wants." I could take the elevator but I don't feel like waiting, so I run down the steps, checking my watch before and after. "Sweet. New record."

I step into Tony's lab, slightly apprehensive. I'm not fully over my fear of them, and I'm not sure that will ever change. Still, it's a step in the right direction.

"Oh, hi!" Tony says, face like a deer in the headlights. I stifle a laugh. He's completely covered head to foot in wires.

"Do you want Chinese food?" I ask, choosing to ignore his situation. He seems to appreciate it greatly.

"That sounds great, I want - darn, it was my night, wasn't it?"

"Every Tuesday," I supply.

"Yeah, sorry about that. Just get me some chicken fried rice and I'll pay you back tonight, Lady Liberty." I roll my eyes but nod anyway.

"Where's Bruce?" I haven't seen him all afternoon.

"He's away for a few days. Went to California for some reason. I think he said something about Stanford. Maybe he's giving a talk."

"Oh, okay," I say. That's one less order for me to carry.

"Where are you ordering from?" He goes back to tinkering with something.

"This place in Chinatown. I'm actually going to pick it up."

Tony raises his eyebrows. "Do you want someone to go with you?"

"Nooooooo," I protest, holding up a hand. "I can take care of myself. Plus, anyone else slows me down."

"You've got me there." He laughs. "Get going, I'm hungry."

"See you, Tony."

Seconds later I'm outside soaking in the early evening sunshine. I could run, but I choose to walk. It's nice out, after all.

I love New York. People are always moving, all of these different lives surrounding me. It's exciting. The hustle-bustle lifestyle always makes me feel energized. I used to think I like the city because it's a good place to hide. Now, I think it's because I found myself here. No matter who I used to be, that doesn't change who I am now: America Evans.

Despite the noise, a clicking noise reaches my ears. Maybe it's just my enhanced senses. But it doesn't go away. I glance over my shoulder and suddenly understand. Cameras are following me. I quicken my pace, still not running, but they don't give up. There's quite a crowd of them, too, and soon I'm surrounded.

They're all shouting my name and other words but I can't make them out and it's all too much for me to process. I'm not good with new people in general, especially not the press. My eyes widen and my breath goes short as camera flashes go off on my face. I must look terrified, but they don't care. All they care about is getting a good shot of the terrorist Avenger. I back into a building, grab the doorknob and duck in, effectively closing them all out.

After the initial shock wears off, I realize I'm in a drugstore. The lady at the counter peers at me over her glasses with a concerned expression. She doesn't seem to recognize me, at least.

"Are you all right, dearie?"

I give her a thin smile and a slight nod. "Fine," I whisper shakily. "I'm fine."

I hide myself in the magazine section and try to compose myself. The last thing I need is a panic attack, but it looks like that's what's going to happen. I grip a shelf, watching my knuckles slowly fade to white. And then I see something that makes everything a thousand times worse.

A photo. A photo on People magazine. A photo of Steve and me. A photo of Steve and me at the restaurant. A photo of Steve and me at the restaurant kissing. No. No no no. Tears well up in my eyes as I stare. I'm angered and humiliated and just sad. They can have my service and my past but they can't have my personal life. That's the one thing that's mine. Steve is the one thing that's mine.

I swallow my tears and gather myself. I'll just go back out and run. I can make it back in two minutes flat if I run. The lady waves goodbye as I hover in front of the door.

They all start taking pictures again the second I walk out. I try to cover myself with my hands as I push my way through the now-large crowd. "Please move," I mutter, weaving around people. As soon as I'm in the clear, I hightail it back to the tower, where I run up the stairs and lock myself in my room. A few minutes later, someone knocks on my door.

"America? Did you pick up dinner?" Clint shouts.

"No! Go away!" I yell, burying my head in my pillow. I'm not even sure what to feel.

"Are you okay?"

I don't respond and he eventually gives up. I also make the mistake of googling Steve and me, only to find us in all of the gossip magazines in New York. Articles about how serious we are, 'eyewitness' accounts of us making out in his car, and even rumors about our relationship breaking up the team.

"This is all fake," I whisper, broken-hearted. Steve's going to hate me. How could I ever think someone would actually stay? I'm an absolute mess. He'll see this and realize I'm not worth the trouble anymore. The thought sends renewed tears to my eyes.

A few hours later, a sound brings me out of my sulking. I've just been laying on the bed, miserable. Six quiet knocks. I wipe the tears off of my cheeks. That's the code Steve and I came up with when they rescued me, so I would know it was him.

"America, doll, can I come in? Tony says you've had the room on lockdown since eight."

I sigh. "Jarvis, unlock the door."

"Yes, Miss."

Steve walks in a few seconds later, his face completely exhausted but concerned. I almost forgot he had a mission with Natasha today. He presses a gentle kiss to my forehead and sits down next to me. "Everyone's worried about you. Tony says you missed dinner."

"Yeah, I guess I did." It's a little past ten. I've locked myself in here for over two hours. My eyes find a deep cut on his arm. "You're hurt."

"I'm okay," he insists. I don't listen, choosing instead to fish the first-aid kit out from under my bed and clean it out myself. His blue eyes find mine. "America, I'll be fine."

"You will be once I'm done. I thought you said you were going to be safe."

"You can't really plan for these things, Mer."

"I guess not." I bite my lip and finish cleaning out the cut. It doesn't look so bad now. That's good.

"Thanks. Now, are you going to tell me what happened?" He prompts. I sigh. I can't say no to him. I pass him my laptop, where there are a good twenty tabs open with articles about us.

"Cameras found me today while I went to pick up dinner. My anxiety got the best of me, I freaked out. I needed some alone time to calm down."

"Wow," he mutters, scrolling through them with more skill than I figured he'd have. "When were you going to tell me we're engaged?"

"Ha, very funny," I say dryly, nudging him with my shoulder. "You're not mad?"

"Why would I be mad? This isn't your fault." He gives me a small smile. "We're in this together."

"I thought you'd be upset," I admit softly. "I was scared that I messed something I cared about up again."

"You didn't."

I like that I can be in silence with him. We don't need to always speak. I'm not always good with words, and with Steve, I don't need to be. We can just exist together.

"Do you want to go find something in the fridge and call it a night?" He asks. I let him pull me into a big bear-hug.

"Yeah. Let's go."

Hey! What did you think of this chapter?

I'm considering posting another book soon, so keep your eyes open in case I do? Any predictions on who it's about?