To say that Steve was pissed was an understatement. This was the first meetinng they had since the Chitauri incident two weeks back and nothing had changed. Tony was still self serving and arrogent. Bruce was quiet and un involved. Natasia's cold and uncareing demenore still solidly in place. Fury, oh how he loathed Fury, in charge and in your face. Clint somehow vigilint and aloof at the same time. Thor in asgard away from what was quickly becomming a nightmare for Steve. Steve...'Steve'... he rolled the word around in his mind for a few moments, unused to the sound of his own name. he was Captain America now. He was strong and fast and unstoppable, he is a perfect soldier. 'Steve' was a quiet, frail, weak boy from Brooklyn, 'Steve' didn't exist anymore. But Captain America often missed Steve. Steve had friends, a home, a life. Steve had a name and Captain America was envyous. sometimes he still pretended to be Steve when no one was around, he would draw and sketch or play piano, but it never lasted. Captain Amerca, Cap, Capsicle, Man out of time, Old man. He bore many names now, but none of them were human names. he was an object and a toy. He hated it so much that it hurt. The captain was brought out of his musings when he reaized that everyone was stairing at him. they were waiting for an answer. Tony and Fury had been talking and they want everyone to move into 'the avengers' tower. it was utterly rediculous. However, it surprisedd him that he was the only one to disagree with the idea. Bruce had already been living there since the incident. Natasia didn't have a reason not to and felt that the tower would be a decent safe house. with Natasia comes Clint obviously. and then there was him. he didn't want to live in the rediculous tower.

"no" he used his best ' this is not a debate' voice

"what? why not?" if he didn't know better, he would say Tonys feelings were hurt.

"I don't want to. i'm perfecly fine were i am"

"in that little appartment? come on ,Capsicle, just come and live in the tower with everyone else, it'll be fun"

"Tony, i said that i don't want to. the answer is 'no'"

"that's a bullshit excuse!"

Steve glared at him. his reasoning was perfecly sound and he had no reason to expaine himself to Tony.

"welp. too bad Cap. i already had all of your things moved into the tower"

ok-wait...he must have heard thi pompus basterd wrong

"care to repeat that, stark?"

"your. stuff. is. in. the. tower. man has your age finally affected your hearing?"

Steve was quiet for a long time and when he finally spoke, his voice was hard, sharp and full of malice, but he was queit and painfully clear

"Stark, you have 2 hours to replace every single item that was taken to the tower.''

"oh come o-"

"2 hours Stark. i wont give you another warning"

He exited the meeting rigght after that and asked to be dropped off at the park where he frequently ran. He was still seething from his chat with stark and the invasion of his privacy. he wanted to run. he though about going to change into more apporpriate cloths for running but dammit everything was at the tower still. He took off his button down shirt and tied it around his waist where his faded jeans met his plain white t-shirt. Looking down at his black and white converse he decided that they would do. He ran, and again his musings of his name returned. who was the last person to say his name? when did his name last represent him as a person? Peggy. She said his name on the plain, through the tears. she had love in her voice and his name had meant something. he missed her. He missed Bucky. He missed Howard and the Howling camantose. He missed his neighbors and the kind young woman that sold him sweets. He missed Steve too...

The intusive thoughts took a long time to clear from his mind. He ran until it was well past sundown and his lungs ached. Only stopping because he could no longer see the path, he began hi walk home.

Irritation was the first thing he felt when he walked into his empty apartment. Irritation formed into annoyence then to anger and finally to cold rage. Damn him. The apartment was his last sanctuary, all of the old ones were gone and he didn't like the atmosphere of most places. he couldn't put his finger on why he didn't like the new designs of buildings or furnature, but it just didn't sit right with him. And now his sanctuary was gone. Even the pictures he had so carefully drawn to preserve special memories had been taken from the walls. His home was empty of life. An intruder in his own home...He took a drink from the tap and slept on the floor sitting upright in the corner.

(avengers pov)

Tony had come back to the tower just before sundown with a radiating smile.

"Tony, did you put Caps stuff back?" Clint asked not really careing

"even better, i put cameras in his apartment so we can see his reaction when he goes home, JARVIS tell us when our Captain returns home, would you?

"of course sir" the AI responded with its soft accent

A few hours later JARVIS turned on the t.v and called everyones attention to the captain opening his door. And then the look of anger that filled his every feature.

they watched silenty as their Captain stared at the empty living space and how he changed from angrey to sad and somber. Tony began to feel bad as they watched him sit in the far corner of the room and fall into a fitfull sleep.

"damn it Tony, what did you do?" bruce asked as if he was scolding a child

"what? he'll get over it"

the next morning the avengers in the tower woke up to find Tony staring at the t.v and became slightly worried

"what is it Stark?" Natasia asked briskly

he sighed before he answered "JARVIS informed me that Cap was freeking out so i came to see if he was in trouble...he was having a nightmaere. a really fuckin bad one to. i think he was drowning."

Everyone was in shock. The Captain? surley not? he was strong and brave and in charge. Captain America didn't have nightmares...but as JARVIS played the footage they all got sick to their stomach. this was their Captain, the perfect soldier pressing himself into a corner, struggling to breath. he clawed at his own skin to the point where he bled but, even in sleep, he suffered in silence. then he began to shiver and murmered quiet apologies to men and women long dead. Their heart broke for the young man