You couldn't sleep. No matter what you did, what you tried, your eyelids would refuse to close in the fears of all those memories returning again. Well, to put it this way, you could sleep if you wanted to, but you didn't, because you knew that sleeping would only bring on a flood of tramautic memories and bad nightmares about what happened two weeks ago.
It was around two in the morning, and you had tossed and turned in your bed for over an hour before you just couldn't take it anymore, and got up and carefully tiptoed out to the balcony of the Avengers HQs.
Pushing open the glass doors, you saw the upstate New York skyline glitter in the distance, a calming cluster of light and shadows illuminating the water.
The gentle sounds of chatter coming from 'the city that never sleeps' and the darkness did little to comfort you, and you wished that you could just go back to the way things had been. A slight breeze fanned your hair around, bringing out goosebumps on your arms.
All you wanted was a good night's sleep. But you couldn't.
Insomnia had taken over and had become your newest best friend.
More like your newest demon.
Those two weeks after the death of your father was a restless one: you spent those days either cooped up in your room and not speaking to anyone or pacing around the kitchen or sitting out by the front doors, gazing up at the tall trees that seemed to stretch up towards the sky for eternity.
You were an independent person---never bothering to reach out to anyone,even after his funeral, which left your heart in pieces.
The team was wondering what had gotten into you, because during training your head was in the clouds, you were much more distracted and every morning you walked into the kitchen, looking like a zombie. But you refused to tell them what happened, because you didn't want to add additional pressure onto their shoulders.
The noise of New York City did nothing to drown out your thoughts of him, and your heart twisted at those thoughts, hoping, praying, and wishing you could have just one more, just one more moment with him. There wasn't anything that you wouldn't do to see him again.
Your father was your rock, your biggest fan and supporter, and the one person who was always there for you, picking you up whenever you fell. And now that he was gone, killed in a car crash, you felt this empty feeling in your chest as if there was a gaping hole in your heart that could not be fixed.
As you leaned against the cold, metal balcony, every little memory came flooding back. Your father, pushing you on the swings at the playground when you were four.
Age eight, your birthday at Disneyland.
Twelve, when you went to the beach and had a seashell-hunting contest with him, carrying home bucketloads of gorgeous stones and trinkets from the sea.
Fifteen, when you first started as a SHIELD agent, him supporting this decision and encouraging you to go out and train with the superheroes. Your sweet sixteen celebration with him gifting you with your dream car. When you got sick, he took care of you as well.
Now that he was gone, what were you going to do?
You swallowed hard and looked up towards the sky, trying to find constellations, but it failed after a minute because even the stars reminded you of him. He loved astrology and would often take you stargazing. It seemed as if everywhere you looked, you'd see him.
Every little thing reminded you of him.
The Statue of Liberty, which he would take you to once a month.
The Empire State Building, whose observation deck you went on top of with him to admire the stunning view of New York City.
Times Square, when you went to the New Year's celebration with him every year for four years straight since the age of six.
The ocean.
The trees, the flowers, everything hurt to look at.
You were hurting so badly, and you couldn't breathe because the knot in your stomach seemed to grow tighter and tighter by the second.
When you had first received the news of his death, you didn't cry. You couldn't. The news was so horrifying, there were no tears for you to shed. Fear had flooded your stomach and you were trying your hardest to cling onto the idea that he still might've been alive.
He wasn't, though. So after that day, you lost hope in many things.
You knew you would never be able to get over losing the one person you loved the most.
"Hey, what are you doing up this late?" a voice behind you said, nearly scaring the living daylights out of you. You turned around to see Steve, casually leaning against the glass in a sweatshirt and sweatpants.
"Nothing," you lied as you wiped a stray tear slipped down your face, fiddling with the braided bracelet your dad had given you when he took you to Costa Rica two months before he died. You haven't taken it off since. "I just needed to take my mind off something. Couldn't sleep. But it's nothing, really..."
No, it wasn't nothing. It was everything. It meant everything to you.
He wasn't fooled by this, and could immediately tell something was up. "It doesn't sound like nothing to me," he said, stepping towards you and brushing another tear from your cheek with his thumb. "What happened?" His hand lingered a bit before he brought it down.
"I'm fine. It's nothing," you repeated again.
"You're not doing a very good job at lying, Y/N, I've known you far too long to be able to tell."
He looked at you with a worried expression on his face, his brows furrowed in concern. "You're not okay. Something's wrong. Please tell me what's going on."
You were unable to contain your emotions for any longer, so you just told him, the words spilling from your mouth. "T-two weeks ago, Dad died, he was hit by a drunk driver, and---" You were unable to finish your sentence because you had burst into tears.
Steve pulled you close into his muscular chest, and you eyes took this as sign to let the rest of your tears fall, staining his jacket. He brushed your hair back gently, as he wrapped an arm around your waist, holding you protectively as if he was afraid that if he let you go, you'd slip away from him.
"Why didn't you tell any of us about this?" he said softly.
"Because," you replied, your voice muffled and thick with tears, "I wanted to handle it by myself. I always do."
"You don't have to deal with everything alone. You have the team. They're always going to be here for you and have your back, whenever you need them. And you have me." You looked up into his eyes, which even at night, shone brightly.
"You promise?" you asked, your voice cracking.
"You're going to be okay. I'm here for you, and everything's going to be okay. I promise."
For the next few minutes, he didn't try to say another word, just kept his arms around you and let you have your small moment of grief. He understood what it was like to lose a parent, the extreme sadness that followed the event and how much you were really going through.
"Shhh, don't cry...Just breathe, just breathe...please don't cry..."
"I wish I could spend just one more minute with him," You choked on another sob. "I wish I could just...I want to bring him back..."
"I know, I know..." he reassured you as he ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to calm you down. Despite the badass, don't-you-dare-mess-with-me vibe you gave off while training or on missions, you were far more delicate than meets the eye.
You then worked up the courage to ask him the one question you feared the most. "I-I sometimes feel like it's my fault that Dad died, that I couldn't get to him and save him in time..." Hiccuping, you tried to regain your composure.
"It's not your fault! How could you say that?"
"Because with my powers, I---"
"Don't ever blame yourself for something like that! You didn't see it coming, so you shouldn't keep beating yourself up for it. Look," His voice softened a bit, "I know how it feels, losing someone. But losing someone doesn't mean you should stop living your life to the fullest."
Nobody said anything after that, the two of you both breathing in the cool, salty air blowing in from the bay, focusing on the crashing noises that the waves made against the rocks up ahead. You almost forgot that you came out here in just a T-shirt and shorts, and how cold it was.
You involuntarily shivered, crossing your arms as your teeth chattered.
"You're going to catch a cold," Steve noticed, and started taking off his sweatshirt to give it to you.
"But what about you..."
"I'm going to be fine. Just take it." He pushed the hoodie towards you and you put it on.
He slung an arm across your shoulders and led you back inside, sitting you down at the kitchen island and bringing you a steaming hot mug of tea. "Thanks," you said as you took a sip of your drink.
"Y/N, can I ask you something?"
"Uh, yeah..."
He carefully observed the dark circles underneath your red-rimmed eyes, placing a careful hand on top of yours. "How much sleep have you been getting? When's the last time you actually slept?"
"Five days ago..." you mumbled.
"What?" he exclaimed. "You need to sleep or you're going to get sick."
You sighed and looked down. "I feel like...well...every time I tried closing my eyes, I'd be plagued with these nightmares...each one being a different scenario for how he was killed..."
"You know that those are just nightmares," he told you. "Y/N, you really need to rest now. Sleep."
"But..."
"No buts. You need to sleep now, come on." You trudged into your room and, slumped onto your bed as he pulled the blanket across you, watching as your chest rose and fell, your cheeks bright red and your eyelashes still damp with tears.
He was about to turn away when you spoke up. "What if I have those nightmares again, Steve, I'm scared...I don't know what to do without him..."
"You'll be okay. I'll stay if you need me." He crawled into bed beside you and rested his chin on his hand, brushing locks of stray hairs behind your ear. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine..." he began to sing.
"You make me happy when skies are gray," you murmured, a small smile crossing your face, the first one in over a week. That was your favorite song, one you'd hum the tune to around the HQs. Your father always told you you had a lovely voice.
It should've made you sad, the song reminding you of him, but when you looked up at the sky, at the stars, you were comforted because you knew he was up there, watching out for you. Somewhere out there, he was watching.
"You'll never know, dear, how much I love you,"
"Please don't take my sunshine away..."
You closed your eyes as he continued singing to you, his melodic voice slowly putting you to sleep.
"Goodnight," he murmured once you were finally asleep, kissing your forehead.
Tony came in the next morning to wake you up and found you two tightly embracing each other, like the world was going to end any minute or something. "Look, guys," he whisper-shouted, gesturing for everyone to come over.
"Aww, he's such a good best friend," Wanda cooed.
"No, Maximoff," Clint scoffed, "they're more than just friends."
"My mans has scored a lady!" Bucky squealed like a little girl, clutching his chest in pride. "I'm so proud."