A/N: Alright, so I am posting this chapter for a new story I am going to be writing after I'm finished with: "I'll do whatever to make you happy". Which, if you haven't checked out, you should totally give it a read! It's Stony, and I'm sure you might like it. But anyways, this might be the next book I write after I finish that, or I might also write a soulmate AU; which I also have in the making as well.
So many stories, and so much time to try and write them. Well, anyways, I hope you enjoy the first chapter! This story basically takes place after Civil War, but there's no Infinity War and Endgame, it's more along the lines of Tony and Steve trying to fix their relationship.
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Love. It's a fickle thing, really; people either live without it, whether they're starved of it from parents, or a loved one, or simply because it's their own personal choice and a way of life to stay away from being so close to another person, and there are those who crave it like a drug. Essentially that's what some consider love; a drug you end up addicted to, maybe like cocaine or heroin, but not as extreme and only leaves you with a broken heart rather than dead in the ground.
He's never done drugs, so he wouldn't know what that's like, but he has gotten his heart broken, not once, but twice.
The first instance wasn't really his fault. He made his decision, and in the end he saved countless lives, including his first love; of which died just a few months after this whole shit show happened. Ok, maybe his heart broke three times, because he lost her once, and then lost her again. He actually never suspected to see her again after he put the plane in the water, he just expected he would have died from the impact itself, but alas that was not his destiny.
That was the first heartbreak he experienced, when he put the plane in the water and lost the girl for the first time. His second instance with the same person was getting that text message on his phone, saying that she had passed away. He tried to remain strong, but he couldn't fight back the tears and the burning ache in his heart that came from his heartstrings being pulled, tested to their limits as they threatened to tear.
He was there to carry her coffin on his shoulders, trying so hard not to break down in front of everyone, and he succeeded. He learned a few things that day: such as the fact that Sharon Carter was Peggy's niece- and really he should have seen that one coming, but then again he never really knew her last name anyways- and that love hurts. He loved Peggy with all his heart, and he was reminded of that each day he visited her once he found out her location. He made sure to listen to her stories, tend to her when needed, and as much as it hurt him, he was there for her when she forgot who he was, over and over again. But he loved her, young and old; because even if Steve is technically a 27 year old man who was frozen in ice at that age, he will always be that 97 year old who should have had a life with Peggy, and gone through what she had with her.
Now the third heartbreak was more recent, and it was almost unexpected, even to himself actually. He always considered himself a straight male, destined to fall in love with women until he eventually had kids, and grew old; because that's always been the plan for him. Find a nice girl to settle down with, marry her, have kids, watch his kids grow up, go to college, move out, and grow old with his wife. He only achieved one of those, and he actually never thought he would get another chance at love, let alone finding someone to marry.
In reality, this is very true. Even if he shared a somewhat romantic interest in Sharon, it didn't really feel right. He regrets kissing her; not just because she's the niece of his dead first lover, but because in a way he might have led her on, and that's not who he was. He was a simple guy, born and raised in the 1940's with non complicated ideologies. He respected anyone and everyone, except bullies, he hated bullies. He didn't care what your race was, your gender, nor your sexuality, to him you were a person. Even if you were a bad guy you were still a person to him, but he would have to apprehend you rather than get to know you, because that's his job as a superhero. Actually, that's more of who he is as a person; a law abiding citizen with no bad bone or dark side.
Or so some people think.
He has a dark side that not many people know about. He's angry because he has no one to fight for, he's aggressive because he's lost so much in his life; girlfriend, and best friend, who he still blames himself for, and not to mention he's lost someone who he never expected to get close to. He hurt him so badly, but it wasn't his fault. Everyone says it's his fault, but realistically the entirety of the situation does not sorely rest upon his shoulders.
Maybe there was something different he could have done, he didn't stop to think about that possibility for a second, but he was running out of time. Actually, there was no time to simply put a pause to everything and hit rewind, because that only happens in movies, and while his life certainly seemed to play out that way, that's not what it felt like to him.
He had to save his best friend, even if it meant losing the man he had somehow let into his heart, and allowed himself to love. The man who resembled his father, but was so far advanced in his time and so much more intelligent than Howard ever could be. He risked it all to save Bucky, but he lost Tony in the end. That was his third heartbreak.
He stares at the iron bars that go across his cell horizontally past the glass door locking him inside. The cuffs specially designed for him encasing his hands midway up his forearms that cut off his powers so that he couldn't break free, and the electric collar around his neck that hummed so softly, waiting to be activated. Blood trickled down his head from the countless hits he took from the back end of guns, coupled with the bullet holes that haven't healed due to the loss of his powers, his lips cracking and dry, parched from lack of water, and the insatiable gurgling of his stomach from being so hungry. They didn't feed him properly, they didn't give him the water he needed, they just kept hurting him, over and over again, hoping he'd crack. But he never did. He did not shout, nor scream, nor cry, as they kept beating him with their weapons, when they shot him in his shoulders, his legs, when they kept shocking him with the collar around his neck just for fun to hear him scream out in agony.
But he never did.
He endured it; suffered through every pain imaginable, even the ones nobody could see that tainted his heart emotionally, the scars that were left behind from years of loss, and grief, and heartache to heartbreak, he continued to remain strong like the soldier he was. But it didn't mean he never felt it. He simply told himself that maybe he deserved this for what he did to Tony; for not telling him about his parent's, for not signing the accords, for choosing to save Bucky over turning himself in or listening to Tony so they could work this out. But truthfully, that would be taking all the blame, and it wasn't all his fault.
When did he ever have the time to tell Tony about his parent's death while he was still trying to clear Bucky's name? Everybody thought it was Bucky who bombed the Conference Hall in the United Nation, but Steve believed otherwise. How could it be that suddenly Bucky would do something like that when he remembered Steve for a fraction of a second? He knew his best friend was in there somewhere, and he wanted to believe that he didn't do this. Of course, he was right, Bucky didn't do it, but while defending his friend he learned dark secrets that he had to keep to himself.
He never had the time, nor the place to tell Tony and it caused everything to go to shit in Siberia. Where they fought, where he did the most unimaginable thing he has ever come to do. Putting his shield inside Tony's chest, where his Arc Reactor lay. He was caught between a rock and a hard place. Tony wasn't willing to listen to reason, and Steve had made his choice. But he also lost Tony, and that he regrets deeply.
He thought that maybe it was a sign that Tony was ready to talk when he called him from the flip phone he gave him. But alas, it was nothing but a trap.
Steve was so trusting, willing to hope and pray and accept that Tony wanted to talk to him, that he was finally able to maybe want to move past this with him. It was that trust he had- no, it was the love he had for Tony that made him think for a fraction of a second that going back to New York was a good choice. It was that choice that he made that landed him here, in the Raft Prison.
He was filled with hurt, and betrayal, both so clear in his eyes that even Tony could see, but the genius looked at him with so much disgust in his eyes and that smug grin on his face. That was the moment his heart broke; it was in that moment that Tony used that phone he gave him for emergencies, saying how much he missed Steve and wanted to talk, only to find himself face to face with the genius and men surrounding him, pointing their guns at him as if he were prey a hunter was trying to seize, that made his heart break right then and there.
And he hates it.
He hated how vulnerable he was when it happened; not just because he allowed himself to believe that even for a second Tony really wanted to talk to him, but more so the fact that he let the genius see how distraught he was, how hurt and betrayed he was. He always tried to keep himself together, because too often vulnerability either got you hurt, or killed. In this case, Steve feels both.
He heard footsteps coming towards his cell, and he didn't bother looking up anyways. It was probably either the guards or Ross himself, coming to gloat at the fact he has him all locked up in here like a caged animal, slowly accepting it's death. Eventually the footsteps stopped in front of his cell, and he just waited there patiently for them to speak.
"Every time I come by this door, I get all giddy knowing I have Captain America looked up like the criminal he is." And wow, what a shocker it was to Steve-not really- that it was Ross who came here to speak to him, the same old sneer in his voice he's heard far too often since he was sentenced here. "I'm going to miss it, I'll say that." This had Steve furrow his eyebrows, causing him to look up. He saw the iron bars retreat sideways into the wall, the glass door opening, allowing Ross to step inside his cell. He felt the familiar aggressive grip in his hair, forcing him onto his wobbly feet. He was weak due to all the blood loss, but did Ross care? Did any of the guards care? No. They made him suffer, they left him in his cell to die slowly, to let his body eat at itself so he remained weak. He could barely stand, and while the center of the raft wasn't far, he still stumbled slightly, making Ross pull him by his hair harder.
He was thrown onto the ground, and he bit back a groan of pain that almost forced its way past his throat and out of his mouth. Another set of footsteps was heard while he lay there, face down on the cold steel flooring, eyes half lidded, blood oozing out of his wounds and soaking his clothes. He couldn't move, he was too weak to do anything. He just accepted what was about to come.
The footsteps stopped, pressure applied to his head so he could not turn in any direction to look, but did he care? He's accepted it, already. That this was the end of the line for him as the cold barrel of a gun was placed against his head. He didn't care to squirm, nor did he care to plead for his life. He had nothing to live for. He lost the girl, lost his best friend- two times in a sense, once on the train and once again to Hydra controlling his mind-, lost the life he once had, and he lost the man he loved due to a situation that was ungovernable. Steve Rogers had nothing to live for. The one thing he had to live for, Tony Stark, had betrayed him, broken him, left him unrepairable, and Steve just accepted it.
"Any last words, Captain?" Ross sneered. He remained silent, because truthfully what was there to say? Words had no meaning here, they wouldn't listen, nobody here cared really. He wouldn't beg, nor plead for his life, it was already gone. He wouldn't whimper and cry, because he's accepted death at this point. Granted, he accepted death first when he sacrificed himself to save millions, but at this point hope is just a word that emerged from its cocoon, grew beautiful, colorful wings and flew away like a butterfly, hoping to come into contact with a flower, or in this case a person, who it could spread its hope to.
His eyes were fluttering close, the loss of too much blood catching up to him. The world was lost behind his eyelids, darkness encasing the image of the Raft, while his ears picked up a few sounds in the distance. What Steve might describe as an alarm, but soon the alarm was replaced by a buzzing sound, which soon turned into static white noise.
His body felt light, also numblike. It reminded him of the time he crashed the plane in the ice; cold water rushing in where the windshield of the plane broke, his body flung to somewhere in the plane as he could feel the water capture him, holding onto him, clinging and coiling. It was almost like the water was like shackles, wrapping around his wrist, his throat, his legs, his body, chaining him so he couldn't escape, capturing him and trapping him a watery grave. And now, just like back then, he accepted death once more, incoherent whispering in his ear as he felt his body relax. The only thing on his mind, just like how back then Peggy was on his mind before he crashed the plane, was Tony. Because even if Tony betrayed Steve, deep down-
Steve still loved Tony.