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As he sits down on the couch surrounded by a hundred of Tony’s guests and the people who are supposed to be some of his closest friends, Steve feels alone.
He feels as if the whole world is moving too quickly for him to catch up, moving past him outgrowing him. Natasha’s told him that it’s okay to feel this way considering he has missed the past seventy years but the feeling only adds to his loneliness.
Some days Steve wants to feel something, even if it’s just pain. No matter how hard he punches, he doesn’t feel the pain, it’s as if his knuckles have gotten numb to the pain.
He knows he should feel grateful for being pulled out of the ice, alive, and gives a second chance at life but Steve doesn’t want to take it. Everything in him wishes he would have died in the ice.
Steve just wants the pain to end, he just wants to die.
He stands up and glances around the party before putting his beer down and walking towards the door. He’s quick but not quick enough to look suspicious.
“Cap?” Tony calls behind.
Steve internally groans, of course, someone is going to catch him, it’s just his luck.Taking a deep breath Steve turns around and offers Tony a smile, “Yes?”
“Where are you going? The party just started,” Tony questions, walking closer to the taller man. Tony takes in Steve’s state and shoots him a worried look, “Are you okay? You look a little pale.”
“Is it the Asgardian wine I gave you?” Thor asks, walking up the two men and joining their conversation. “I told you that it was the right thing to help you get drunk.”
“The alcohol did nothing for me,” Steve answers, playfully rolling his eyes at Thor before turning his attention back to Tony. “I’m fine, I was just thinking of leaving early. I don’t know anyone here, I thought it would be better to catch up on some movies instead.”
“What rubbish! You know us,” Thor says, placing a hand on Steve’s back. “Plus I’m sure Stark can introduce you to some people, right Stark?”
“Of course, what do you think these parties are for?” Tony says, rolling his eyes before throwing his arms around Steve’s shoulders. “Now, which annoying socialite would you like to meet today?”
“I don’t want to meet anyone,” Steve answers, trying to shrug Tony’s arm off of his shoulders. “I’m feeling a little low energy today.”
“Fine, that’s understandable. You are 96, so who can blame you?”
“You know if you don’t add up the years I was frozen, I’m still a lot younger than you.”
“You’re younger than the whole team if you want to play it that way,” Tony adds. “I think you and Natasha are around the same age but who knows when that woman is telling the truth.”
Steve nods before straightening out his shoulders again, “I’ll get going now, can you let the others know if they ask where I am?”
“Of course,” Tony answers with a firm nod, “Get home safely and call me if you need anything.”
“Thanks,” Steve says before offering one last smile and turning around. He lets his smile drop and shoulders sad once he’s in the elevator.
Steve offers the security guard a smile before exiting the building and making his way to the nearest subway. If there’s one thing he likes about the 21st century, it’s the fact that there’s a train station at almost every walking distance. He’s able to take a direct thirty minute subway ride to the Avengers tower from his apartment and back.
His apartment’s a one-bedroom and in a mediocre area of Queens. He hopes that he can move back to Brooklyn one day but every apartment he’s looked at so far was out of his budget by thousands. But he doesn’t mind Queens, the neighborhood he lives is quiet and people mind their business.
As much as he’s been trying to convince himself that this home, deep down he knows it isn’t. He’s hung up no pictures in his apartment, even though he knows he can easily find them if he wants to. All the furniture he owns are the housewarming gifts Tony had sent. Besides, Steve spends most of his days mindlessly watching movies and shows people claim he needs to catch up on and sketching.
Steve is pulled away from his thoughts when the train stops at his station. He stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket before exiting out of the train and up the stairs to exit out of the station. He crosses the street before stopping in front of his apartment. Steve pulls out the keys and unlocks the door to the apartment building before walking up the stairs and to his apartment. He unlocks his apartment door before walking in and taking his shoes off. He throws his keys on the kitchen counter and collapses on the couch.
He rests for a few moments before sitting up and taking his jacket off. Steve glances at the TV that he forgot to turn off before he left, some show about werewolves was on. He grabs the remote and turns the TV off before making his way to the kitchen.
Glancing in the kitchen cabinet, he eyes the sharpest knife he owns.
He sighs before grabbing the knife and placing it over his wrist. All he needs to do is press hard enough. If he bleeds out enough, he can die. He can finally be at peace.
Steve sighs before putting the knife down, he should write something. Right?
Grabbing a pen and paper he quickly writes down the words, I’m sorry- Steve Rogers, before grabbing the knife again and heading into the bathroom.
He feels his hands shake and the guilt building up in his chest. He was going to take Captain America away from people again. But he wasn’t just Captain America, right? He was just Steve Rogers at the end of the day.
He’s just Steve. And Steve doesn’t want to live anymore. Steve wishes he had died in the ice seventy years ago. He glances at himself in the mirror before quietly chuckling to himself.
America’s courage. Yeah. Right.
Steve doesn’t think twice before placing the knife over his wrist and making a deep cut vertically. He winces in pain but it’s quickly replaced with a smile when he notices how the blood gushed out and was already pooling up in the sink.
He repeats the action on the same wrist before switching to his right wrist. He applies all the pressure he can and creates two cuts on his right wrist before letting the knife drop in the sink.
His arms go limp and drop to his sides before he slowly sits down on the bathroom floor, leaning against the wall. The blood feels warm as it gushes onto his shirt and jeans. He smiles again.
Steve glances down at his hands, he feels nothing even as deep as the cuts were. He frowns when the blood flow lessens but is too light headed to care.
He can hear loud bangs on his front door but he drowns them out with Bucky’s voice.
“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart. You’re home now.”
“I missed you, Buck.”