Ghost of You

t w e n t y - t h r e e

"(Y/n), I need those contracts on my desk within the hour."

"I have them right here, Mr. Secretary." 

I stood up from my desk, walking into the office where Secretary Ross's voice had just beckoned me. Once I reached the edge the large oak desk, I extended my arm towards him, expecting him to take the papers. 

"Leave them there." He instructed, pointing his head towards the paper tray on his desk without looking up at me. I held in an eye roll, dropping the papers in a heap into the bin.

You're welcome, boss.   

It had been two months since I had started working for Ross and he was no less of an asshole now then he had been on that first day. Working for him was nothing like my previous job. I was mainly at my desk, shuffling through and coordinating the creation and signing of documents so confidential I wasn't even allowed to read the papers I was processing. 

As I went to leave his office he called out to me for a second time. 

"Be ready to leave in two hours."

I turned around, feeling excitement for the first time since I had set foot in this office. I'd been hoping to be sent out on an assignment, my legs growing weary from all the shuffling they were doing on the carpet under my desk. It wasn't a feeling I was used to, normally I would have loved to stay in an office, but all this time spent at my desk chair had me restless, needing to do something useful, something productive.

"Where are we going, sir?"

"Paying your old friends a visit upstate." He said, motioning to the documents I had just dropped off. "I'm presenting these to them this afternoon."

Just like that my excitement faded. Back upstate is the absolute last place I wanted to go. 

"Is that going to be a problem?" He asked, apparently noticing my trepidation. I cleared my throat. 

"No, not at all." I assured him, failing in my attempts to assure myself of that same fact in the process.

I left Ross's office, heading back to my desk. When I got there, I collapsed into my swivel chair, burying my head in my hands and leaning my elbows on my desk. 

This was definitely going to be a problem. Two months I had been at this job. Two months since I had turned in my resignation at the Avengers facility. Two months since I had given up the one job that I had ever been truly proud of. Two months since Steve Rogers had stomped on my heart with one single word. 

I had quit that very night. I went straight from Steve's room to my own, packed everything I had brought with me upstate and left. I drafted an email to Tony, apologizing for the abruptness in my departure but informing him that I was no longer a suitable choice to work in my position. And it wasn't a lie. 

It had been a quick, impulse decision to leave the way I did. One made out of fear and self-anger.  If I could do it over, I would have tried to say goodbye to more people, not exiting in the middle of the night, unknown to anyone. I just didn't trust myself not to leave if I didn't pack my things and drive that very instant. If my actions that previous evening had been any demonstration of how just being around Steve could have me rewiring every thought I had, than it was clear I couldn't let myself be tempted by goodbyes or the chance to run into Steve one last time. Like I said, it was a decision made out of fear and self-anger, but it was also what had felt like the only choice of an ashamed girl who had her heart broken.

I knew when I had left Steve's room that my time with the Avengers had finally come to an end. I had been stupid enough to mix business with pleasure, knowing the outcome was most likely going to be terrible. I just hadn't expected it to be this kind of terrible. Not the kind of terrible that forced me to quit. Not the kind of terrible that had damaged me so deeply that the smartest and strongest of repair men would never be able to put me back together. I just couldn't stay there. I had thoroughly embarrassed myself in every since of the word. The thought of showing up to work everyday and seeing Steve, not to mention the sympathetic looks from Nat or the "I told you so's" from Sam... it just wasn't an option for me anymore. I needed to be somewhere where I could maintain some element of my dignity, where I could still be professional in the workplace.