Imagine If You Assembled the Avengers: Volume 1

This Isn't Helping (Steve Rogers x reader)

If you didn't get better at hiding this, the team was bound to notice sooner rather than later. It was 4am and you were just now getting home. Normally, this wouldn't be a big deal, but you were scheduled to fly the jet out at 7am for a week-long mission. All you wanted was one last send-off before you were stuck so far from home. Stuck in a foreign country on a tiny Quinjet with Steve. This was going to be hell.

Getting angry at yourself wasn't going to do any good, but it was so easy to tear yourself down before anyone else had the chance. Throwing uniforms hastily into your pack, cursing and crying, you had almost convinced yourself to just leave and let the team go on without you. What good are you at this point anyway? Out all night until god knows when, drunk more often than not, and hiding out in dumpy bars trying to connect with anyone just so you would feel something. Waking up in different apartments after nights with Mr. I Don't Need To Know Your Name, you felt disposable. No matter how often you tried this, it never helped and you only felt worse.

~~~

When you joined this team, you had warned Fury that your mood could change at any time; any one thing could trigger a downward spiral. Growing up in a violent home will breed instability. You grew up having to protect yourself, which could come in handy, but overall was no way to spend your early years. Control of emotions was something you only admired in others, but could never achieve for yourself. When your last argument with Steve two weeks ago became physical, it was the impetus for a steep decline.

"Why won't you talk to me, (Y/N)? What happened?" You were having a team dinner when Steve noticed that you weren't eating and brought you into the kitchen. "It's hard for me...it's hard for us to see you like this." He stood on the other side of the room, giving you freedom to move, but he was in front of the door so you couldn't leave.

You clasped your hands in front of you and stood without speaking, holding your gaze towards the floor.

Steve rapidly moved across the kitchen towards you, stopping in front of you and grabbing your shoulders with a small shake. "You need to snap out of this!"

Steve's touch broke something within you; memories of being grabbed against your will, with no one to protect you. Your body filled with rage, your breathing quickened and your face grew red. Using the counter top for leverage you pulled your knees up and planted your feet against his chest, firmly pushing him back into the table. With his sudden weight thrown against it, the table smashed into pieces. Steve stood slowly, now angry.

"(Y/N), I'm not going to fight you. I'm worried about you." He was slowly stepping towards you once again. You grabbed a nearby glass and smashed it to the countertop with your bare hand.

"Touch me again, and this will not end well, Rogers."

He stood for a moment, staring at you and considering his next move. Finally, he raised his hands in defeat, exiting as Natasha, Clint and Bruce were arriving to see what was happening. "What the hell is going on here?" Clint was about to walk towards you when you too raised your hands, one now cut and bleeding, and rushed past him. Grabbing your purse, you left without a word.

~~~

You had just finished packing, just finished crying, when there was a soft knock on your door. "Honey, can I come in?" Wiping your nose on your sleeve, you straightened your shirt, trying to look at least a little presentable.

"Yeah, Tony. Come on in."

He opened the door and rushed to your side. "Sweetheart, you look like hell. How late were you out this time?"

Your eyes were wide, shocked that he knew, yet at the same time, relieved. You broke down, falling to your knees as you sobbed before your friend.

He knelt down with you, sitting to take you into his arms. "It's ok. It's ok. Hey, look at me, (Y/N)." He gently lifted your chin so he could meet your eyes. "You need to know that I will do anything for you. Anything. I know you don't have any family left, and from what I've heard you're better off. I can be your family if you let me. I want to be your family." Your tears only came faster now. "Will you let me do that?"

You nodded your head, wiping away tears as he held you.

"The first thing I want to do for you, is to get you to talk to Steve."

"Oh, Tony, I don't know. I have a feeling he wants to stay clear of me. I went a bit crazy." You laughed at yourself a bit, knowing he would agree with you.

"He's outside."

~~~

The tension was palpable as you sat on separate sides of your room, both silent and avoiding eye contact. "Ok, well I'm gonna go get everything ready for us to jet out of here tonight. You kids work it out. Behave this time." Tony gave you a sympathetic look and a quick wink.

Well, someone has to get this started, right?

"Steve, I'm sorry. I've been a wreck lately and you were only trying to help. There's a lot about me that you don't know, but if you want to, I'm willing to talk."

He took a deep breath and leaned back in his chair, observing you. "(Y/N), I know enough. Dragging your past back out isn't going to help, because we can't change it. I only want to know what I need to do to help you now."

Leaning forward, your face serious, you questioned his motive. "Do you want to help me, or save me?"

"What's the difference? You're clearly not able to help yourself." As soon as the words were out, he regretted them. "That didn't come out-"

"Fuck you, Rogers." You began to pace across the room in front of him.

"Do you know what I do every night? Every night since our fight? I sneak out and go to bars nearby! I drink until I can't remember my really, really bad choices! I go home with men I'll never see again! Hell, I don't know the names of ANY of them!" Your breathing was so fast you were nearly hyperventilating. "Steve, I'm caught in this spiral with nothing to grab on to. I don't know why I can't move on from the past, and it's destroying me to have you see me like this."

He stood at his chair, apprehensive to approach you. He raised one hand in your direction, his face hopeful that you would take it. "Please."

You shook your head slowly. "Steve, you have the opportunity to step back, here. Maybe you should think about what you're getting into." You hung your head, avoiding his gaze. When you finally looked up, he was merely inches from you, his expression soft and his eyes warm.

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I'm standing by the woman I love."