Chapter Text
A mental health therapy group. Thursday night, 7 p.m. That's all Yelena told Bob. That and his attendance was mandatory.
So here he was, standing outside a dark gray concrete building. It looked like a school, one that would have been much more welcoming if the sun hadn't already set. Instead, the light spilling from the windows stopped a few feet short of where he stood, leaving him in shadow.
Every instinct told him to leave. To disappear before anyone saw him. Yelena would be angry, but anger was easier than this. But he couldn't disappoint her. She believed in him and he had to trust her. Choosing not to think about it any longer, he forced himself toward the door.
The moment he stepped inside, it confirmed what he'd already suspected. It was a school. One long hallway, classroom doors, cubbies with the remnants of students belongings. Probably an elementary school. Maybe the lower grades of a middle school. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been in a place like this. He'd dropped out young. Though he'd made it through middle school. Maybe this was what high school looked like. He doubted it. Too much color.
In the entrance way stood a large sign with an arrow pointing to the right. Underneath, in thick black marker, someone had written "Group Therapy." Another sign stood farther down the hallway and, without thinking, he let his feet follow the arrows. His thoughts weren't occupied with where he was going anymore. Instead, they wandered. What kind of therapy group even was this? What if he walked in and it was full of children? No. Yelena wouldn't do that to him. She was better than that. She took his mental health seriously. She took him seriously.
He took a deep breath as he stopped in front of two large doors. A placard beside them read G29 Gym. A fitting place for a therapy group, he supposed. He absentmindedly hoped they wouldn't make him do any actual exercise.
Before he could open the door himself, it swung inward. A short blonde woman holding a clipboard appeared. She seemed surprised to see him. Immediately he thought, was he in the wrong place? He’d followed the signs. But what if there was another group? What if –
The blonde took a second but eventually collected herself and smiled up at him. “You’re here for the mental health group, right?” He sighed and nodded. “Great! My name is Gemma, and I'll be leading the group. Your name is?”
He mumbled out an answer, "It's great to meet you, Bob. If you could fill out a name tag, that would be wonderful. I.. um…” She grasped for words. “Oh, stragglers! I’m just going to check the hallways for anyone who may have gotten lost. There are still a couple seats open, so feel free to sit wherever you'd like. I'll be back in a minute."
Then she was gone, leaving him standing by himself. Spotting a table covered in blank name tags and markers, he made his way over and quickly scribbled his name in black marker. Looking down at the sticker, he tried not to cringe. The letters were uneven. The O capitalized while the Bs weren’t. He started to peel it off. To try again. But then he stopped. It was fine, it was something so small, It didn’t matter. He could handle it.
Re-smoothing out the name tag, he turned toward the center of the room, his eyes falling on the group that had already gathered. There were seven people. A rag tag group of people. Some old, some young, some men, some women, Not a single person looked like they belonged together. A few were chatting while the rest sat quietly. It didn't seem like a particularly comfortable silence. He wondered if they didn't want to be there any more than he did.
Bob approached the circle slowly, trying to keep to himself. Maybe, just maybe, he could get through the session without drawing any attention.
That hope lasted all of three seconds. "Look! We have another member!" One of the women called out loudly. She seemed to be the most talkative person in the room, chatting with whoever happened to be sitting nearby. Now she had turned her attention to him.
He gave a small wave and managed a tight-lipped smile. She enthusiastically waved both hands back. “Come over here. You can sit next to me. The left side seat is wide open!.” She tilted her head. "What's your name?"
Bob stared at her, eyes wide. His mouth opened, closed, then opened again like a fish. Glancing around the circle, he caught a collective sigh from several of the other members. Apparently she was a lot for them too. Finally, he managed, "I-I'm... um... I'm B-Bob."
The stutter made him squeeze his eyes shut for a moment. Of course. He should've expected that. He wasn't good at talking to people. Never had been. Probably never would be. He'd spoken maybe three words and already wanted to run away. Why had Yelena thought this was a good idea?
The woman smiled even wider, somehow. "Well, my name is y/n, but you can call me your seat neighbor!" She dramatically pointed toward the empty chair beside her. "I've been told I'm a great neighbor. Though the first number neighbor I ever reached out to told me to shut up and, I quote, 'stick my own words so far up my ass they come out my mouth again.'" She frowned dramatically. "I thought that was pretty rude."
Her smile never seemed to fade. She seemed incapable of letting a room stay quiet. He crossed the last few feet and sat beside her, half expecting her to launch into another story and drag him into the conversation. Instead, she simply gave him one more bright smile before turning back to the woman she'd been talking to.
"As I was saying, I'm really into documentaries. I've watched so many at this point I can spit out facts like a water fountain spits out water. Did you know all cheetahs are genetically inbred? Or that —"
As the minutes passed and Gemma took her time returning, y/n somehow kept the conversation alive. One moment she was talking about different types of cats, the next it was white-collar crime, then some organization selling something called Orgasmic Meditation. He wasn't sure how she'd managed to connect those topics, but somehow she always did.
About ten minutes later, Gemma reappeared. She hurried through the doors and made her way to the center of the circle, looking almost desperate to get the group started.
She clasped her hands together and gave everyone another smile. This one wasn't quite as bright as the one she'd greeted him with. If even Gemma looked nervous, maybe he had a reason to be.
"So, it looks like everyone has gotten well acquainted while I was gone. That's great! But why don't we go around and introduce ourselves anyway?” She gestured toward the person sitting to her left. "Let's start over here."
The introductions began to blend together almost immediately. He tried to stay present. He really did. Yelena's voice echoed in his head. "Don't spend the whole time staring at the floor. Learn about people. Maybe make a friend." But nonetheless his mind drifted.
School had never been a happy place for him. So, his eyes wandered the gym. The basketball hoop hanging from the ceiling. The painted lines running across the polished wooden floor. Eventually, he'd traced every detail the room had to offer. His attention drifted back to the circle.
It landed on her. The first woman who had spoken to him. The one who had pointed at him and insisted he sit beside her. It must have been her turn to introduce herself because she was talking.
"...friend of a friend…
“...supposedly really good..."
"...figured why not..." He wasn't really listening. Not after realizing he was next.
What was he supposed to say? ‘Hi, I'm Bob. I live with the New Avengers. I'm sure you've heard of them. They're kind of like family. A former Black Widow suggested I come here, so... here I am.’
Yeah. That wasn't going to work. He'd have to make something up. Maybe he'd just say a friend recommended the group. It wasn't exactly a lie. Would that be enough?
As he shook himself from his thoughts, he realized the room had gone quiet. Everyone was looking at him.
"Bob?" Gemma asked gently. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"
His mouth opened, but nothing came out. His throat felt dry, his tongue heavy. His eyes darted from face to face as he desperately searched for something to say. Anything beyond ‘I'm Bob.’ Honestly, even that would've been better than the silence stretching around him.
Before he could force any words out, the woman beside him leaned closer. Smiling, as always, she whispered, "You got this, Bob. Blow their socks off." He couldn't help shaking his head, but despite himself, the corners of his mouth twitched.
"My name is Bob," he began quietly. "Um... I don't really get out much, and a friend wanted me to socialize more, so... she recommended this group, and... um... here I am."
The silence lasted less than a second. It felt much longer.
He offered the group a sheepish smile. No one smiled back. His stomach sank. He must've missed some kind of unspoken rule about introductions. Oh God. He wished he could do it over. But what would he have even changed? Had he said too much?
From the corner of his eye, he caught movement. She was giving him two enthusiastic thumbs up. When their eyes met, she squeezed hers shut in an exaggerated grin, like she'd just watched him accomplish something incredible. He wasn't sure why she seemed so proud of him. But somehow… It made him feel a little better. This time, the corners of his mouth twitched again. At least one person thought he'd done okay.
As the group continued, Bob let himself relax. He didn't have to speak anymore. Gemma had taken the reins, steering the conversation in a direction that had nothing to do with him. She didn't make them do another round of icebreakers or ask each of them to explain why they were here. Instead, she simply opened the floor.
"Does anyone have something they'd like to talk about? Maybe something exciting that happened this week, or something you're looking forward to?"
It wasn't surprising when she raised her hand first. Gemma smiled. "Go ahead."
"So, my birthday was this past Tuesday." The room immediately erupted into a chorus of "Happy birthday!" and scattered cheers. She laughed, waving both hands as if trying to calm everyone down.
"Thank you, thank you." She grinned. "Honestly, I don't really feel any older. I'm starting to think I'm just... never going to feel like an actual adult. But it was a nice day. I went to my favorite restaurant and had these amazing breadsticks." She nodded to herself, clearly reliving the moment. "No one got me any presents, though. I guess I'm too old for that now, which is...disappointing."
"You're never too old for presents!" one of the men across the circle exclaimed and the room laughed again.
Before he realized it, he was smiling. He couldn't remember the last time he'd celebrated his own birthday. Probably when he was still a kid. Even then… He pushed the thought away. Maybe the Thunderbolts would celebrate birthdays. Yelena certainly seemed the type to make a big deal out of them if she knew when his was.
His smile faded. But what about her? He didn't even know when her birthday was. Or Alexei's. John's. Ava's. Bucky’s. What was he thinking? Here he was hoping someone might celebrate his birthday one day, when any one of theirs could come first and he'd have no idea. He couldn't even remember his friends' birthdays… Assuming he'd ever actually been given the chance to learn them. What if they'd already told him and he'd forgotten? He frowned down at his hands. He'd have to fix that.
The conversation drifted from one person to the next. Bob never spoke. He simply listened, taking in each story and doing his best not to drift off into his own thoughts. Some people talked about work. Others talked about family, or the little things that had happened throughout the week.
y/n somehow found her way into every conversation. She laughed at jokes, asked questions, and always seemed to have something to add. It was almost like she'd made it her mission to make everyone feel included. Like she knew what it felt like not to be. He wondered who had made her feel that way. It couldn't have been easy. She was everywhere.
It was the first time he'd wondered what brought her here.
The clock ticked on. Eventually, the meeting drew to an end. Gemma thanked everyone for coming and reminded them that she would see them again next week. "Same time, same location!"
Bob wasn't so sure about that. The group still put him on edge. But Gemma was nice. She looked more at ease now. Her lips curled into a smile as she watched everyone begin to gather their things and leave.
Bob lingered for a moment before peeling the crooked nametag from his shirt. As he looked around for a trash can, his eyes landed on y/n. She was staring down at her phone, frowning. Her thumb rested against her teeth as she anxiously bit at the nail. He took a step towards her but stopped. He wanted to ask what was wrong, if there was anything he could do.
But he didn't. He couldn't.
He was tired. More tired than he had expected to be. The new environment, the new people, the constant effort of trying not to embarrass himself had taken more out of him than he wanted to admit.
So he slipped his hands into his pockets and headed for the exit. He told himself that whatever was bothering her would be fine. He hoped he was right.