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

Most Beautiful Suicide

It was late at night. Steve had gotten up to get a cup of water when he saw her. Her white silk robe fluttering behind her as she climbed over the balcony. She stood on the small ledge, her hands holding onto the railing. Steve's eyes widened and he quickly walked out on to the balcony. She didn't have to turn her head to know he was there. The moon made her hair look as white as the silk covering her body.

"You know there was a beautiful lady...she had pretty much everything." Her voice was soft. Clara lifted her hand up, pointing at the Empire State Building, "Jumped off that building and fell on top a car. The car's roof was destroyed, but her body was perfect. They called it "The Most Beautiful Suicide"." She wavered and Steve took another step towards her.

"Clara, why don't you get down from there?" Steve asks, moving closer towards her.

"Do you think mine will be beautiful? I think it's going to be a mess. Such a big mess." Her laugh rang out like a bell, "I don't deserve a beautiful death. Not with the things I've done." She tilted her head back, looking up at the clouds gathering above her.

"You don't have to do this, Clara." Steve spoke softly, the wind pushing his messy hair, "We can call Dr.Miller and he can help you-"

"No one can help me anymore, Steve. I'm too far gone. Tell Tony not to cry for me. Goodbye, Captain Rogers." She turned her head and smiled before letting go of the railing and leaning forward, her arms spread out. Steve tried to grab her, but it was too late. He watched helplessly as Clara fell-

"CLARA!" He shouted as he jolted awake. A thin layer of sweat covered his body as he panted, his heart racing. His blue eyes wide as they looked around the room frantically until he realized it was just a dream. Once his breathing calmed down, he got out of his bed. He needed to make sure she was safe.

Her room remained pristine, looking like something out of a magazine. Nothing was out of place. The only thing that showed that someone was living there was her bed. The sheets were rumpled around her. Clara rarely left her bed. Whenever Tony or Steve came around, she was laying on her side, her knees pulled up into her chest. No noise ever left her lips. The only sound was of her breathing and her heartbeat.

From what everyone could tell, she was awake when they checked up on her. They saw her open eyes in the reflection of her against the window. She never acknowledged them. Clara would eat little of the food they brought her and she took her pills. She would shower and change her clothes, but she never talked. Something cracked open inside of Clara during her meeting with the psychiatrist and now that it cracked, it couldn't be put back in. Steve's eyes wandered her form as he stood in the doorway. He was relieved to see Clara laying in her bed.

"Clara? It's me, Steve." The Captain called out softly. He sat down in a plush chair that was in front of the window wall. Steve was easily in her line of sight. Her blue eyes stared at the wall, her pink lips set in a firm line. One hand tucked under a pillow while the other rested on her stomach. "Doll, please. You're scaring me, scaring Tony."

Nothing. Not even a single glance in his direction.

"Please, sweetheart. Just talk to me. Talk to one of us." He murmured, his voice not raising at all. The psychiatrist warned everyone that they needed to talk to Clara in soft voices. She blinked, her chest rising and falling. "You can't do this...you just can't shut us out. We just got you back and we need you to be okay."

His eyes studied her. She had white silk pajamas that blended into the white sheets and blankets that covered her bed. The silk reminded him of the dream he had of her minutes before. Her growing blonde hair was nearly braided into a single plait, not loose like in the dream. Her finger nails were painted a striking blood red that contrasted against her pale skin and white clothing. It was as if she was laying in a bed made entire of snow.

"She's not going to talk, Cap." Tony speaks, leaning against the door frame. Steve kept his eyes on Clara, not wanting to meet his almost brother in law's gaze. This hadn't been the first time that Tony has caught Steve late at night talking to Clara. "You can't keep doing this."

"Am I supposed to just wait?" Steve asks, tearing his eyes away from Clara, looking at the other Stark in the room.

"Yes you are. When she is ready, she'll talk. You can't force her to do it." Tony's eyes were on his sister's white covered form. "She needs time to heal. We all do."

Steve stood up and looked at Clara. He wanted to kiss her softly and tell her how much he loved her, but instead he walked away and out the door. Tony sighed and shut the door behind him.