Steve "Fight Me" Rogers (_onyourleft_) wrote in somerealityrpg, @ 2020-08-13 11:34:00 |
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Entry tags: | active: darcy lewis, active: steve rogers |
Who: Steve Rogers and Darcy Lewis
What: Hitting things is better than feeling them
When: Evening
Where: The gym where he works
Warnings: None really, some feels
Status: Closed/incomplete
Once the last person had left, Steve set about packing up the equipment from the class. Teaching people how to box wasn’t something he’d ever imagined himself doing, but he’d come to quite enjoy running the classes. He preferred the one on one lessons, but he knew some people preferred the social aspect of the bigger groups.
Leaving the smaller room ready for the next class, he walked into the main area of the gym to the bag hanging near the corner. Most of the lights were off now that everyone was gone, but he didn’t mind that. He preferred the quiet. He didn’t mind sharing an apartment with others, and he wouldn’t trade having Bucky back in his life for the world, but sometimes he needed the space.
With each hit, he could imagine the memories being knocked from his mind, pushed back where they belonged. He was tired of feeling so caught up in the past. It was harder here. He knew Tony wanted peace, wanted to keep his family safe and not fight any more. He couldn’t begrudge him for that. But it wasn’t the same for Steve. He didn’t have that. Didn’t even know if he wanted it, or could have it. And that was the problem, wasn’t it? He’d been ready to take the stones back and then...well, then he’d started thinking about seeing Peggy in her office. Of that photo on her desk.
But could he do it? He’d never quite been able to forget Ultron’s words. He knew there was no denying the truth behind them. The fact he was struggling so much in a place that was for the most part so quiet was testament to that. It didn't matter, though. He was here now. He'd just have to make his peace with that. The irony of that thought almost made him laugh aloud. Hadn't he been the one to tell people you had to move on? What a hypocrite.
With each punch against the unyielding surface of the bag he felt a little better, letting it swing back to meet him, falling into a familiar rhythm.