Chapter Text
The first time he felt it was when he fell to the Potomac River after his fight with Bucky. His eyes were still open when he hit the water, arms spread wide as he slowly sank. He tried to swallow a gulp of air and felt a burning pain in his lungs. He was drowning, he realized and he closed his eyes. He was so tired, he exhaled the last bit of air in his lungs and let the darkness take over. It was finally over, he remembered thinking when he vaguely saw a hand reaching out to him. He didn’t have to do this anymore. It was over.
Steve cried when he first woke up. Sam and Natasha were sitting on the chairs next to his bed and they quickly got up to call the doctor and nurses, thinking he was in pain. But his hand reached out to Natasha and she turned to him, her green eyes filled with worry and something else he couldn’t fathom. He mumbled her name again, barely aware of Sam slipping out of the room. Natasha slowly took a seat on the edge of the bed, her cool thumb wiping away the tears from his cheeks. He leaned in to her touch, his warm skin cool against hers. She didn’t move away from him, waiting for him to calm down with a fond smile on her face.
“Do you really hate going on a blind date that much?” she said after a long moment of silence has passed. Steve let out a bark of laugh and shifted his eyes to see her face. She had that knowing smile on her face and her eyes, God her eyes, it was as if she knew what was going on with him. And Steve just couldn’t help it. Apologies slipped out of his lips before he could even stop it.
“It’s okay, Steve.” She softly said. She wrapped her arms around him and pulled him close. Steve closed his eyes and slowly breathed out. He didn’t say anything afterwards. He couldn’t tell her how he was so mad at himself for being alive. How his body kept stopping him from dying.
* * *
The second time was during the battle in Sokovia. He watched the city flew above the ground and his lips curled into a small smile. There was a moment of peace when he realized it was going to be over soon. He was so exhausted. Living had become a chore for him. He didn’t know how long he could actually stay living this way. Ultron’s voice rang in his ears. He couldn’t live without war, he scoffed to himself. Maybe if he was really gone, things would be better, he thought.
Natasha caught the look on his face and she quietly walked over to him.
“Steve.” She has taken a liking of calling her Steve now, which made him somewhat happy.
“I’m not leaving this rock with one civilian on it.” He told her, as if having an excuse would make it better. He expected her to say no and gave him a good talk. She just stood close to him with the smile she reserved for him.
“I didn’t say we should leave.” She turned to him. “There’s worse way to go.” She shrugged before shifting her gaze to the blue sky in front of them.
“Where else am I gonna get a view like this?”
Steve finally noticed the dark circles under her eyes, the paleness of her skin underneath the makeup she insisted on wearing even during a fight, the trembling of her lips. He took her hand and gave it a soft squeeze. They were really a pair, weren’t they? He thought to himself. Two broken people, trying to find themselves and failing so miserably.
They didn’t die that day and Steve didn’t tell her how he wasn’t relieved he was alive. But she knew. She always knew. She put her hand on his and rested her head on his shoulder. He smiled a little and leaned back on the chair. It was going to be okay now, he repeated in his head.
* * *
The first time Steve felt alive after waking up from his 70 years nap was when Bucky finally came back. They found him six months after the whole Ultron fiasco. Bucky was more than willing to follow Steve back home, which almost made him cry in joy. Steve brought him back to his apartment, eager to tell Bucky about the spare room he has been saving in case he came back. Bucky quietly thanked him and slipped into his room without another word.
Natasha stayed in the other guest room for a month. She was the one who helped Bucky deals with his trauma and panic attacks. Sam also came over to help with the therapy because Bucky wouldn’t talk to anyone other than his two friends. Everything was too tense for him. Bucky was always on edge, even with him. It wasn’t until Natasha brought up Steve’s habit of jumping out of planes without a parachute did Bucky’s eyes lit up. He turned to Steve and raised an eyebrow.
“It’s fun?” Steve meekly replied before Bucky leapt off the brown leather couch and tackled him to the ground.
“Fun?! Jesus Christ, you punk.”
Steve was too busy laughing and crying at the same time to listen the rest of Bucky’s rant. He could feel warmth spreading through his body as he listened to Bucky and Natasha’s laughter and he wondered if things would finally get better.
* * *
Steve wished he could just stop feeling this way. He was still filled with this…this numbing sadness even after Bucky asked about it three months later. Bucky knew him better than anyone else and he didn’t say anything when Steve looked away from his grey blue eyes. He took Steve’s hand and pulled him into a hug. Bucky never said anything and Steve didn’t know if he should be relieved or disappointed. Maybe both, he thought as he tried to push away the creeping sadness and focused on Bucky’s warm body.
“You shouldn’t go through this alone, Steve.” Was all Bucky said when they broke apart. Steve gave him a half smile which made Bucky shook his head. “You really shouldn’t.”
But that’s the thing, wasn’t it? He couldn’t bring anyone into his problem. No one should be subjected to this crippling sadness. He was Captain fucking America, for God’s sake. He didn’t want to let them down. Bucky needed him. The country needed him.
“You need yourself too, Steve.” Sam told him when he finally confided in him a week later. That made him jerked back in surprise. He never thought about that. He couldn’t.
“You’re Captain America, yes. But you’re Steve Rogers first.” Sam looked at him with a knowing smile. “Don’t forget about that. Captain America is good because he’s Steve Rogers.”
Steve staggered all his way home, home to Bucky, to the person that made everything feels better. And Natasha. Dear Lord. She was also there, sitting next to Bucky on the couch, head rested on his lap. Bucky ran his fingers through her hair as if petting a cat, stopping when Steve came through the door.
“You’re home early.” Natasha sat up and smiled. Steve wished he could just scoop her up into a kiss. She was their best friend and he couldn’t risk losing her. Steve wondered when did she start staying over in their apartment? It felt weird to imagine the place without her in it.
“I’m hungry.” He grinned.
“We were trying to make some stir fry and grilled chicken.” Bucky started, eyes glinting with glee. “And she burnt them!” Bucky howled in laughter, ducking away from Natasha’s punch.
“He burnt the chicken!” Natasha childishly tattled. Now that he thinks about it, Steve could smell the lingering smoke in the apartment. His lips curved into a smile. He could feel the numbing pain shrinking away into a tiny ball he could put away at the back of his head as he watched his two best friends.
“Pizza night again?” He offered.
“YES.”