He couldn't take it. He already felt like a fish out of water and now with the down time, it was beginning to catch up with him. Maybe it's true what Ultron had said, that he couldn't live without a war. But without a fight, without a war, he could only wallow in self pity and sink deep into this new feeling. He had seen Sam about it and he had informed Steve that this feeling was depression. At times Steve cursed his serum, when he was so deep in this pit the scars from his wrists would just heal within a couple hours leaving him with no reminder. To a certain extent it was alright that the scars never stayed, no one saw them and would never question his well being. And then it came, the day he asked, 'Would anyone care if I left..?'. The thought made him more reckless out on the field, gladly putting his life on the line in hopes that maybe when he died it would be for a worthy cause. But whenever he was hurt he was brought to the medical wing, never given the chance.

Steve looked out the door of the bathroom before he shut it behind him, he didn't want anyone to see. With a click the door locked and he was by himself, he opened the bathroom drawer and found his razor. With deft movements he disassembled it and held the blade before him. The shower curtains closed he sat in the bottom of the tub as to not taint the rest of his bathroom. The bottom half of the tub had a faint red tint to it from the blood of past sessions. The razor cut into the thin of his wrist, he gritted his teeth tightly together to keep from crying out. Tears were streaming down his face as he continued on thinking of all of the bad and letting it release from his skin with the blood. He thought of the adjustment, slice, of all of the terribly confusing things that happened around him constantly, slice. His thoughts went to Peggy and how he lost her, sliceslice, The Commandos, slice, and then Bucky, slicesliceslice. He had almost had him so many times but he kept running away, slice, from him and the truth, slice. He truly was a ghost. Slice. The blood streamed down his arm, onto his legs and clothing and into the tub.

Steve switched hands so he held the razor blade against his right arm. The next place his thoughts went could fill an entire arm and more, Natasha. She was his closest friend, slice, but that was it…Slice, even though he loved her, slice, she was in love with Bruce, sliceslice, one of his friends, slicesliceslice. He started crying more and he couldn't control the sobs, sliceslice, he really loved her, slice, he thought they had something, slice, but out of the blue she chose Bruce, slicetyslicesliceslice. He began to get really woozy at the loss of blood, he hadn't cut this much in a while but then again, Steve had never accidentally walked into Natasha tearing up quietly in her room with a picture in her hands. A picture of which he could only assume was Bruce, slice. In the quiet room a voice startled him.

"Captain Rogers, I know you previously asked me to not interrupt Code:Grey sessions, but your blood levels are dropping significantly."

"FRIDAY, please leave me alone, don't inform the others."

"But Sir, you are causing yourself serious harm and the grey matter in your brain has only grown more since you have started these sessions. I am afraid I must contact the medical team as it is my protocol."

"FRIDAY." Steve said with finality, "Order 19FS, now please leave me alone." His head started hurting again and the bathroom swirled around him.

"Yes Sir." FRIDAY responded with a somber tone. The AI would normally call help but the order 19FS forbids her from doing so.

Steve got up slowly and reached for the small cabinet in the shower that held shampoos. His head spun and the blood was dripping down his body. He almost stumbled into the curtain but he leaned against the wall for support. In the cabinet there was an assortment of different brands and types of shampoo with the occasional conditioner and body wash bar, but in the back of the cabinet there was a small secret door. Steve pushed aside the bottles and opened it to find his demise. A cold, hard gun. It was kept in the shower only in case of a surprise attack, but it would do what Steve needed it to do. He pulled the gun out and shut the cabinet. FRIDAY's panicked voice pulled through the intercom again.

"Captain Rogers! I am aware of my protocol that you have against me speaking or calling for help but you need to understand-"

"Call them," Steve interrupted FRIDAY with a sigh.

"Right away sir." FRIDAY answered rushedly. But before the intercom could click off Steve let out a final mutter.

"It'll be too late for them anyways."

"Sir, you are not actually going to pull the trigger? Right?!"

"FRIDAY, tell Sam not to feel guilty." Steve started with a quiver in his voice. "He was one of my best friends… Tell Tony I never really hated him and that he was an important piece of my life, then tell the Maximoffs to keep strong and to keep training- I know they will be great one day. Tell Vision and Rhodey that they were some of my best students and that I appreciated them. If Bucky ever comes to himself tell him to stay strong and alive, that he deserves the life he had in the forties and tell him he should never think he is anything less than that. Tell Bruce if he comes back that I will miss his calmness and rejection of war, something I could never have done. Tell Pepper and Jane they were some of the calmest, nicest and most patient people I have ever met and I will forever be indebted to them for their stability. And to Clint and his family, I will always be so grateful for the amount of love poured into me by them. For Sharon, Darcy, and Maria, tell them they are the most badass people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. Tell Thor that was nice to have a friend who understood me as much as he did and I will always be grateful"

"Sir I have just contacted-"Steve interrupted her because he knew he had to say this and as fast as he could, before they could save him from himself. And while black-spots formed around the edges of his vision, he finished off.

"And last of all please tell Natasha that I'm sorry. I am sorry for putting this weight on you but...I really loved you, I wanted nothing more than to be with you, and I'm sorry for not being stronger through your rejection of my affection. Please don't beat yourself up about this, I just can't take it anymore…" With a deep breath Steve brought the gun the his neck and pointed it upwards. The black in his vision made it hard to see and Steve could barely stand.

"Sir just hold on, please, help is almost here stay with us." FRIDAY had a voice panicking so much that if the AI could sob or cry Steve would think she was. Steve heard his apartment door open and heard Natasha cry out into his apartment for him. He felt his knees give way and his vision blurry completely, he was about to pass out, but determined he pulled the trigger right before his head hit the wall. Then everything went black.

A/N Don't worry there is more to come!