Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 3

Pray (Rogers x reader)

Warning: mention of infidelity

I've been playing with my demons

Making troubles for yourself

And these days are far from over

You know I can't help myself

I love coming for you baby

And it's killing me inside

I've been dying for you baby

Almost every single night

As Steve stood in his room in T'Challa's palace, a home that would never be his, he had never felt more alone. Every direction sat belongings that were provided for him, holding no significance to him other than their practicality in their use; none of them were of his own choosing, and they had no reflection of who he was. Hell, he had no idea what being Steve Rogers even meant anymore. His reflection wasn't his own, as foreign to him as everything surrounding him. He stared at himself in the mirror every morning, after waking from nightmares that just wouldn't stop, the bearded and haggard looking man returning his glare with indignation and embarrassment for what he had allowed himself to become. It gnawed away at his soul with a delicious pain to tease it with the thought of what you would think of him now, and this shell of a man that you likely wouldn't even recognize. Pain was all that he allowed himself to feel anymore, after everything, and he would succumb to your torture just to savor it one more time.

One thing was very certain to Steve now, more than ever before; you hadn't wanted him before, and you surely wouldn't want him now.

Forget the words I'm saying

I know that I've been cruel

I pray for peace

Tell me why don't you

Oh I pray

I know that I've been cruel

Oh I pray

I know that what I do

Even before the war shattered the team, his transformation had begun, and you were fully to blame. At least, he told himself that when it began, if for nothing else but to assuage his own guilt from eating him alive. You were with Tony, he knew that. His brain knew, but his heart was an ignorant fool to it. Despite it all, and despite his respect for the man who had been his friend, Steve chased you, unapologetically and foolishly. He was clumsy and careless with his attentions towards you, receiving Tony's anger in full force and creating the abyss between them long before the mention of some redundant government document. The Accords were insignificant compared to this; this was personal, and Steve didn't care. It was so far out of character for him that he used that to his gain, allowing himself to act on impulsivity and desire until that final step over the line was taken. He had slowly, achingly, and irrevocably broken your resolve, and he had tasted what life waking up next to you could be.

He had tasted that drug only once, but that was all it took for his addiction, and this withdrawal was a torment that he bathed himself in every night.

I've been losing my religion

Making trouble for myself

And these nights are getting longer

You know I just need your help

I keep running for you baby

And it's eating me alive

I'll be dying for you baby

'Till you'll bring me back to life

It wouldn't be easy to come back from this, to return to the life with the team, next to Tony with you still there. He would do it if he had to; he would fight at your side and save the world with you because it was the right thing. He would beg Tony for forgiveness, on his knees and in front of everyone if that's what was asked of him, just to be allowed to lay eyes on you again. Steve knew that more than a few of Tony's hits during their fight were because of his feelings for you, and he returned just as many with the same rage. As he stood here now, holding the black and dirty uniform in his hands, the material coarse and uncomfortable to the touch, it embodied this new persona; it was a much better representation of the man that Steve was now than the patriotic garb that he had so willingly tossed aside that day.

That suit meant honesty and righteousness. It meant that the wearer was a good man, and Steve had never felt further from that ideal as he slipped into this new identity, one foot at a time.

I, wanna throw it all away

For tonight, and another day

It's just you and me

And I'm on my knees

Would you pray for me

The sounds of blaring alarms outside pulled him from his thoughts, and it was a welcome distraction. It meant that there was a battle about to be fought; a war to be won to distract himself from this self-inflicted prison. If he was inept at winning the battle against his own demons, at least he could try to fight for others with a hope of success and a hint of the man he used to be. That's one thing that Steve Rogers had always excelled at before this man arrived; taking care of everyone but himself. He was self-sacrificing to a fault, even when the one thing that he wanted more than anything in the world was at his fingertips. Even when that very thing, or that very person, might be standing in the midst of the battle he was so willingly running into now.