The Guide To Moving On

Chapter 36 - Gone

Ok, so I know that Thor hasn't really turned up in my plot, but as my story is progressing it is becoming harder to write some form of entrance for him. After giving it much thought, I have decided that there is no way to give him an entrance in my story that would give him justice. So, please just accept that he has arrived in the story and I am leaving it up to you to decide how he gets there. 

Also, I know that the whole Romanogers relationship has been very slow burn in my story, but strap yourselves in; there is about to be a WHOLE lot of fluff coming your way. 

Thanks!

Steve's POV 

Today was actually a somewhat normal day, which is very unusual considering my line of work. Well, almost normal. 

"Thor, I have already told you, Strawberry pop tarts are clearly the best flavour!" Clint cried, the pair had been arguing about this ever since breakfast, which was two hours ago!

"Both of you enough!" I said, raising my voice a little to get my point across. They both looked at me and pouted. 

"I will stop when Thor admits that Strawberry is the best!" Clint argued and then went back to shouting at Thor. I sighed and walked away, not having the patience nor strength to sit in between their arguments any longer. 

I decided to take the stairs to my room to cool off a little, but paused halfway up when I received an electronic mail on my telephone thingy. 

Dear Steve, 

I regret to inform you that Peggy has passed away in her sleep. 

Agent 13.

I froze and re-read the message multiple times, as if by reading it over and over, the words might change their meaning. 

I came out of my shock and gasped, running up the stairs and rushing to my room, slamming the door behind me. 

I turned around and punched the closest wall that I could find, leaving a dent surrounded by several cracks. I then slid down the door, promptly bursting into tears. 

She was gone, the last remnant from my past, the last person that truly understood how I feel is gone. For good. I couldn't handle it any more. My best girl was gone, and I still owed her a dance. A dance that I would never be able to have, ever. 

Everything from grief to regret. I am done. Done with being strong. Done with leading. Done with pretending like I am ok even when I am not. Done with everything and everyone. Life just wasn't fair to me. 

I wasn't like the others. I can't just take my armour off at the end of the day and go home. I don't have a catsuit and guns that I can take off, nor a bow and arrow, nor a suit of iron, not a green monster that I can sort of control, nor a hammer. 

I am just me. A science experiment. I am a 6 foot five man with muscle upon muscle. Everything about me is heightened, but I am still just a human. Sure I have shield, but my image never changes. I am constantly under pressure, I am never allowed a break. I am the symbol of hope in America, the utmost purity. 

I have to be strong ALL of the time, never letting my guard fall. But it has finally taken its toll. I can't do this anymore. Captain America is officially done. 

I sat there are just cried for about an hour before I picked myself up off the ground and ran myself a bath, hoping that it would help to bring me out of my sadness. 

Once it was ran, I stepped in and sat down, pulling my knees to my chest and clutching my head. I burst into tears again, everything being too much for me.