Situation

4.8K 123 1
                                    

Steve's POV

      I found myself visiting her a lot after that first day. Well, visiting her grave that is. It hurt to know that she wasn't even down there. Peggy said they never found her body, but they really ever look? There was a lot I still had to learn about her but somehow I felt deeply connected to her. As if she were listening and watching my every move. 

       I read through all her letters, multiple times I'd read them. Even some of the one's from Peggy had found their way into my hand. The boxes of stuff had started to pile up as well. Everything S.H.I.E.L.D had on her, I took. Every single letter or note her hand ever wrote, every dress she wore, even things she didn't touch or know about ended up housed in my spare bedroom.

       Tony thinks I'm crazy for going to such great lengths to learn about someone who's dead. However... I need to know. I need to know what she was like; who she was. Did she have any of my strength? Speed? Did she have serum running through her blood just as I did? I had so many questions, and everyone who could answer them was either dead or dieing. 

       When I left the house this morning I didn't think it to be anything but another ordinary day. I went out on my run, locked myself in a gym for a couple hours, then stopped by the shops to grab some groceries. However, walking into an unlocked front door was not something expected. 

       I slowly pushed it open and walked in with my hands ready to punch whoever was there right in the nose. I walked through the entire house like this, defensive trying to find whoever I suspected to be hiding.

       There was no one. Nothing had been touched, except the spare room. Olivia's room. 

        When I opened the door everything seemed to be in order. Boxes were still stacked on top of one another and random papers scattered the floor. I took a few steps inside and looked at the boxes piling on both sides of the pathway I'd created. No one was there.

       I went back to the front door and closed it, ensuring that I locked it. I put the groceries away and then headed to my room to shower. After grabbing clothes and showering, I ended up back in the room. I found myself looking for something specific.

       I knew I'd left it right on the box behind the door, yet it was nowhere to be found. I frantically searched through every box, completely destroying the room. I searched room after room, tearing my apartment apart. 

       By the end of double checking every room and crevasse until everything had been searched through and turned over. The blanket was nowhere to be found or seen. I sat on in the doorway of the kitchen and stared at the floor. One of the first things I'd ever had of her... gone. 

       I don't know how long I sat there, however the light streaming through the torn curtains had turned dark. Slowly I looked towards the clock and noticed the time changing slowly. What the hell happened to it!? Did someone take it?  Did I accidentally leave it somewhere? 

       I stood up and looked around. The couch was flipped, TV turned over, books were torn and scattered throughout the living room. Everything was staggered and destroyed. Before I could fully take a look around the room, there came a knock at the door. 

       "Mr. Rogers? Is everything alright? I heard crashes?" I heard a woman's voice call. I made my way over and looked through the spyhole. It was only my neighbor Sadie Stewart. She is an elderly lady from a couple doors down. 

       "Everything's fine Ms. Stewart. Just lost my keys in the couch cushions." I replied. I heard her sigh slightly and footsteps move any from the door. I turned back into the room and looked around. I knew my feelings had gotten the best of me, and maybe Tony was right. Why was I keeping all this stuff from a dead girl who I never even met?

       "Maybe he's right?" I whispered. I trudged into the spare room, finding files upon files that had been thrown across the room in my pursuit. I sighed picking up one of the small dresses laying on the ground. Why did I have to feel so connected to her? It felt as if though she'd understand my struggles in this new world. 

       I dropped the items into boxes and pushed them to be stacking inside the closet once again. Not everything fit, but at least it was outta site. I need to get my head on straight. 

       From then on I promised myself not to think too harshly about her. About what'd happened to her and what could've happened if I'd been there for them. Olivia was gone, I had to accept that fact and if I didn't... there would be no chance of moving on.


Word Count: 848

The One who SurvivedWhere stories live. Discover now