The Guide To Moving On

Chapter 26 - Stand Still

Steve's POV

Over the last few weeks, ever since we went on that camping trip, we have been doing so much better as a team. Every mission we did, we always completed it in record time with no more than a few scratches. 

For some reason though, we hadn't had a mission in about a week and I was starting to get a little antsy. I didn't like going outside because it is so much different to what I am used to and after about two minutes, I generally get overwhelmed and go back inside. 

So instead, I have mostly hung around the tower, slowly going insane. The worst part was, with next to nothing to distract me, every thought and memory that I didn't want rattled around in my brain, making me relive things in my mind that I would rather forget. 

I have no way of going back, I am stuck in this new century, this new world and yet everything still comes flooding back. Losing my parents, losing Bucky, losing my friends, losing the love of my life. It sucks. 

The only thing that I have found to help ease my mind, is spending hours at the punching bag, just letting my feelings out onto it. That way, no one had to know how much it hurt, and it felt good, beating up something. 

I don't really do much else anymore, I go between the training room and my apartment, sometimes with a quick stop to the kitchen for a protein bar or water. 

"Rogers, didn't I tell you to work on your legs?" Came a voice behind me. I knew exactly who it was. The flame haired beauty that shared the room across the hall from me. 

Nat's POV

I walked into the training room and found the super soldier beating up punching bags. Even though we share a floor, I have barely seen him over the past week at all. To the point where I am getting worried about him, it seems so out of character for him. 

As I walked in and scanned the training room, I saw a pile of about 8 bags with sand pouring out of them onto the floor, yep, definitely worried. 

The last time he acted like this, he had just come out of the ice and was told he had been asleep for 70 years. I decided to get his attention and address him. 

"Rogers, didn't I tell you to work on your legs?" I quipped as I walked further into the room, towards him. His punches faltered for a second and then he continued with his workout. 

"Yeah, but this feels better." He replied bluntly as he continued. 

"What do you mean, better?" I asked, although I knew what his answer would be. I know, because I have done the same thing before. 

"You know, I can let my emotions out on the bag rather than anything else." He replied and I nodded. Yep, it was exactly what I thought he would say. I sighed as I watched him silently for a second, trying to best phrase my response. 

"That's great, but we have barely seen you in a week because you are always here. You can't keep doing this!" I said and he stopped punching the bag, steadied it and then looked at me tiredly. 

"You're ruining yourself, you are a wreck!" I continued now that I had his attention. He rolled his eyes and I looked at him sternly. 

"Says you, you have had bags under your eyes for weeks." He retorted, wow, that hurt. I covered up my emotions quickly and returned my expression back to a blank one. 

"At least I am still socialising." I replied and he just went back to punching the bags, ignoring me completely. Fine, plan B then. 

I walked up behind him quietly and jumped up, wrapping my legs around his neck and flipped him onto the ground. I was sitting on top of him and he was facing me. I could tell from his groan and facial expressions that I had caught him off guard. 

"You need to stop doing this to yourself Steve!" I said, raising my voice a little to get my point across to him. As I stared into his eyes, I could see something in him break. 

"I can't!" He argued back and I just silently waited for him to collect his thoughts and continue. 

"E-ever since I came out of the ice, whenever I am not preoccupied my mind goes wild, every thought I wish I could forget comes back over and over again. I can't do it anymore Nat, it hurts!" He admitted as a single tear trickled down his cheek. 

I wiped it away softly and looked down at him sympathetically. I knew exactly what it felt like to be in his position. It's truly awful. The whole thing was enough to make my heart break. I lent forward and hugged him for a minute until I felt him calm down, some of the tension releasing from his body. 

"From experience you never forget bad thoughts or memories, but you can learn to live with it and move on. But spending hours in here, beating up bags until you almost pass out isn't going to help you." I told him as I raised my head to look at him properly. 

"Then what do you suggest?" He asked quietly as his ocean blue eyes drilled into mine. 

"Talking to someone else about it is a start, I know it seems like bringing back u pand talking about the very thing you don't want to is stupid, but it really helps to get it off your chest. Also, try and resume some form of normal routine, socialising, eating properly, only spending a few hours down here instead of all day, and sleeping. Please, just try for me, I can't have a broken soldier on our team, nothing good will come of it." I told him and I could tell he was listening to every word I said. 

"Ok." He agreed and I rolled off him, laying beside him instead. 

"Good, now, come on, Tony is hosting another one of his parties in an hour and you have to come. It'll be good for you." I said as I stared up at the ceiling. He shifted his head to the side and looked at me. 

"Good for me, or just because you don't want to have to be there on your own." He said jokingly, a smirk spreading onto his face. There's the Steve I remember. I smirked back at him and got up, offering a hand to him to get up as well. 

"Both." I said and I sashayed away, smiling to myself. It was true though, with Clint and Bruce on an overnight mission, I would've had to go alone to the party if Steve didn't come. Not something I particularly feel like doing. 

I just hope that Steve follows even some of my advise. It is killing me to see him this way. I don't know why I care about him so much. Well, actually, I think I am starting to realise I do. I just don't want to believe it.