The Captain and Stark's Sister (Avengers/Captain America Fanfiction)

Sandcastles

We build sand castles
That washed away

I ran my fingers through my wet newly dyed blonde hair. Natasha had help me restore it back to it's original color. She had thought it might make me go back to a moderate amount of normal. It was a nice thought, as was Tony thinking that me sleeping my newly renovated room instead of the med bay. The walls were a cool grey and the bed was covered in a baby blue bedspread that was extremely soft to the touch.

I wrapped my arms around my legs, pulling them into my chest and resting my chin on my knees. My closet was filled with my old favorites ranging from the black Louboutins I loved so much to lingerie from Agent Provocateur that I favored. Instead of putting on any of those things, I slipped into one of Steve's shirts that were among mine. The grey t-shirt was pretty big on me, just long enough to cover my underwear. Even though it had been mixed with my clothes, it still smelled like him. My eyes were focused on the large floor to ceiling windows infront of me, showing the city to me. My attention was drawn away from the view when there was a knock on my door.

"Hey." His voice caused my heart to beat a bit faster. I looked at him over my shoulder. Steve's blue eyes were focused on me, his hands in his pockets. It had been a week since my talk with Tony.

"Hey." I say, "You can, uh, come in." He gives me a soft smile as he walks in. I want to him to sit next to me, but he sits down on the love seat near the wall of windows.

"Your hair is blonde again." He murmurs softly, the smile on his face. I smile softly at him and nod, my hand lifting up to run through my hair.

"Nat dyed it for me. I found this shirt mixed in with my things." I tell him and his eyes move to the shirt. The smile on his face grows a bit bigger.

I study his face. In the past two years, he's gone from my boyfriend to my enemy to my....I don't know anymore. I had held his hand with mine, but I had also wrapped my hand around his throat. I had kissed his lips, but I had spit venom from my own. I've fought with him and I've fought alongside him. I was his torturer, but he acted like I was his remedy. I didn't deserve Steve Rogers. The only thing I deserve is a bullet to the brain.

"You're looking a lot better." He speaks up. I gave him a tiny smile. I knew I looked like shit. Dark bags under my eyes because I didn't sleep at night. How was I supposed to sleep when everytime I closed my eyes, every single mission with Hydra played over and over.

"I don't understand how you are still such a terrible liar." I retort. He gave me his thousand watt smile and he chucked softly. His eyes moved from my face to focus on the ground. The silence settled inbetween us. What was there to say? I didn't dare bring up anything that had happened. Nothing in the past year was okay to talk about with Steve. I didn't want to be the one to pour salt onto his fresh wounds, but I broke the silence.

"Thank you for the roses." I spoke. He raised his eyes to meet mine. I wrapped my arms tighter around my legs.

"You're welcome. You never told me what type of flowers were your favorite so I just went with roses." He responds, his blue eyes focused on mine.

"Pink and white peonies are my favorites." I told him softly and he nods. An image appears in my brain: Steve bringing me peonies as I hold a tiny bundle close. Just as I am about to look down at the child, dark grey smoke fills the space where the baby would've been. I shake the image put of my head and I suddenly feel empty inside. Tears spring up in my eyes as my hand moves to rest on my stomach. My barren body that will never carry another life inside of it. I meet Steve's eyes just as a tear rolls down my cheek.

Before I can stop myself, I sob. My heart breaks as I cover my face with my hands. My tears fall onto my skin as loud sobs rack my body. My chest heaves, my body aching.  Everything hurts too much because I am feeling way too much. The pain of my losing the baby and me never having the chance to try again hasn't hit this hard since I've been back in control. So I sit there and sob until two strong, warm arms wrap around me.

I ignore the how I don't want to hold him to hold me because I don't want to hurt him. I just let him hold me, rubbing my back as I stain his shirt with my tears. Steve nuzzles his nose into neck and I can feel his warm tears hit my skin. We cry as he holds me tightly. We sob. We mourn. We mourn the child we never got to parent and the rest of children we will never be able to have. We mourn the life I held inside of me. We mourn and we mourn together.