When DJ explained it all to Steve she was gentle and patient. Mostly out of kindness, but also because she really didn't know what to expect. Steve's a polite, mature adult, but he's also stubborn and reluctant to let what little he has go.
Steve has been through a war, and pushed around by time, and watched her nearly die. So of course he's not a blubbering mess.
He's also sacrificed everything for the greater good and spent night after endless night regretting the chances that he let slip through his fingers. So of course he's not angry, either.
But he'd also spent countless hours discovering new ways to make her laugh, and learning to kiss her stupid, and fighting to breathe around her, and watching her die when there was nothing he could do. So of course he's not really okay with it at all.
Mostly he's just tired. There's an ache in his bones that no super serum can heal, and no matter how much he sleeps he always seems to be dragging. But he can't make her stay if she doesn't want to.
He's not around when she packs her things and promises everyone she'll still drop in to see them. When she makes plans with Natasha to go out drinking that weekend and gives Bruce a brand new African violet from that little shop around the corner. When she refuses to accept the keys to the brand new sports car Tony bought for her, and she tells Pepper to make sure her wayward boyfriend eats, sleeps, and doesn't try to buy DJ any more ridiculously lavish gifts. When Thor wraps her up in a bone crushing hug and she punches Clint in the arm and says "Tag, you're it."
DJ doesn't hold that against Steve, and it's not like they won't see each other again. Neither of them like goodbyes, anyway, no matter how temporary.
Steve's room is too empty now, though. He misses the dresses in his closet- lace, or cotton, or silk and often too short. He misses tripping over her shoes. Misses watching movies with her where the dialogue is too vulgar, and the gore looks too real, and the people show too much as they make love on screen. Misses the endless tubes of makeup all over his bathroom that always, without fail, ended up staining his shirts when she curled up close.
The sheets stop smelling of lavender after the sixth time he washes them, and he doesn't know if that's better or worse.
Life at home isn't all that great for DJ, either. She loves her parents and she still looks up to them, but there are the same impossible expectations from them that have been there since she was a child. They want her to go back to school and go after a real degree this time. They want her to start dating the new surgical intern at her father's hospital. They want her to wear more clothes and less makeup and stand straighter and be less mouthy.
She wants to tear her hair out because, God damn it, she's risked her life several times to save the world and she was in a relationship with Captain America and that's still not good enough.
There are paparazzi that hide in the bushes outside of her house and make sure she's in the tabloids nearly as much as Tony. They catch her drunk off her ass after a night out with Natasha, and then they take heart-melting pictures of her volunteering at an animal shelter. They find it fit to take a million pictures of the one real date she went on with Johnny Storm, and a billion more pictures of the one walk of shame she took the next morning, because even though they figured out they're not really compatible long-term, the sex is still fantastic.
She doesn't try to date after that, because every time someone asks all she can see is bright blue eyes and pouty lips curling up in a bashful smile. It's hard to find a nice, normal man that can compete with the peak of human perfection, and mutants are more drama than she can handle at the moment.
There are a few photo spreads in magazines that even her sister disapproves of. Tony leaves a copy of each one in the living room for Steve, and it's out of kindness instead of hostility. If anyone knows that Steve keeps the magazines in his nightstand drawer no one comments on it.
DJ keeps her promise and shows up at the tower often. Her and Steve are worse at the whole friendship thing than they were before. Except now they're not exchanging longing touches and inappropriate kisses, but awkward small talk and obvious fake excuses to escape.
She's eating Thai in the workshop with Tony one day and he won't shut up about Steve. It's all Cap did this and Cap did that and did you know that Cap blah blah blah. She slams the noodle container onto the table and narrows her eyes. "What are you doing?"
"What do you mean? I'm having a conversation." Tony doesn't even look like he's faking innocence this time, and when he's faking it's blatantly obvious because he knows the least about being innocent ever.
"About Steve."
He looks at her like it's a serious possibility that she has brain damage. "Yes. About Steve."
"Tony, you only ever talk this much about two people- yourself and Pepper. And you only talk about Pepper because you're in love with her and having lots of hot sex with her and is there something you need to tell me? Are you fucking Steve now? Because that would be an unexpected plot twist."
He rolls his eyes, like she's the one being weird. "Steve and I get along better now, that's all."
"I'm fairly certain I just misheard you, because last time I noticed you and Steve bicker like over-competitive siblings."
"Oh, we still do that," he grins. "But it's more good-natured now."
She doesn't have a response to that, so she lets silence settle in over them. She half-expects Tony to get all uncomfortable and serious and say something like he's a wreck without you, but he doesn't. It's possible that he's finally learned his lesson and has stopped trying to do those relationship talks. But Tony never learns, so…
It's not that she wants Steve to be a wreck- she doesn't. She's not that self-absorbed and cruel. It's just she was kind of starting to really desperately miss him and it'd be nice if he felt the same way. The fact that he clearly doesn't kind of puts her in a bad mood, so she takes that as her cue to leave.
The bad mood carries over to the next time she visits.
She looks all around the tower but all she finds is Steve. His smile is friendlier this time, less uncomfortable. He puts aside the book he's been reading and politely stands to greet her. "Hey. Nice to see you again."
"Sure," she answers a little shortly, nervous like a caged animal. "Where is everybody?"
"Uh, Tony and Pepper are out for dinner, I think. Thor's in New Mexico visiting Ms. Foster, Natasha and Clint are on a mission, and Bruce just got called in to HQ by Fury to discuss 'sciencey stuff.'"
She bites her cheek to stifle a groan. "I see… Well, I… I should go then."
"You don't have to," and if she didn't know any better she'd say Steve looked hurt. "You and I can hang out."
"Why would we do that?" DJ doesn't mean to snap. She doesn't even mean to say it, really, but her brain-to-mouth filter must have shorted out and she didn't come prepared for alone time with Steve.
Steve's face scrunches up in annoyance. "Look, I don't know what your problem is, but-"
"I don't have a problem," she cuts him off, and God, it's like her and Tony switched bodies. All the sudden Steve and Tony are buddy-buddy, but DJ and Steve can't stand to be in the same room together? Not something she would've predicted a few months ago. "But it's not like you're easy to talk to anymore, so why bother?"
"That's the most childish thing I've ever heard," he counters. "Something's difficult, so you leave? If that's how you're going to behave then you're right. Go back to your parents. Go back to pouting and posing for a camera. Go back to having meaningless sex with any man that gives you any amount of attention."
Boy did Steve know exactly what to say to hurt. He is a brilliant tactician.
"Maybe I will! Why don't you go back to pining over your past like any mature adult would do." Steve's good, but DJ has run around with the meanest. If anyone can sling words, it's her. "Go cry over a woman who moved on with her life and probably never thought twice about you after you disappeared. Go back to your stale excuses for running away from the future, because the serum did wonders for your body, Sweetheart, but inside you're still just a weak, meaningless little ant."
He doesn't even flinch, which isn't all that surprising considering him and Tony must have had it out like this a million times before. But it surprising when he gives DJ a small smile. "I'm not meaningless. I mean something to you."
"No you don't," DJ bites back too quickly and too defensively. "You don't."
"Yes I do." Soft, matter-of-fact. A hand reaching out to play in her curls. "I'll always mean something to you."
It hurts because it's true, and she doesn't know if she could say the same. "Shut up!" She knocks his hands away and slams her palms against his chest for good measure. He looks wholly unimpressed. "I hate you! I hate you!"
Steve grabs her roughly around the waist, hauling her up against his body to crash his lips down on hers. DJ growls into the kiss and digs her nails into his shoulders, trying to pull him impossibly closer. They shuffle blindly in a random direction, probably in search of a bedroom, but neither are entirely cognizant at the moment. The back of Steve's calves catch on Tony's ridiculously expensive coffee table, and the two of them topple over onto it, the wood splintering into a dozen pieces under their combined weight.
They're too wrapped up in each other to care about the table, never separating as they roll across the floor in a practiced move. DJ fumbles with the button on Steve's slacks as Steve hitches DJ's dress up around her hips. Her underwear is tossed somewhere among the shards of the coffee table, but she's far too busy to take notice precisely.
Steve slides into her fast, making her breath catch and nails scrape pink lines down his back. They crash against each other rough, and angry, and desperate. Steve bites down on DJ's neck to stifle a moan, making her give a breathy gasp and arch her back, bringing them closer still. DJ's legs clench around Steve's waist, urging him on, as her hands move to tug painfully at his hair.
It's over quick- too quick- with a shudder and a groan as he collapses on top of her. There's a brief lull of silence, filled only with their labored breathing. And then it's just awkward.
Steve rolls off to the side, looking everywhere but at DJ as he hurriedly refastens his pants. "I… Sorry."
"About the sex? Or about implying that I'm a needy slut?" She pulls her skirt back down around her thighs and stares at Steve until he has no choice but to meet the gaze.
There's a concentrated crease between his brows, like the one he gets when he's giving out orders during battle or finishing up a sketch. "I feel like this is a trick question."
"Still a moron, I see," DJ huffs, standing up to make a hasty retreat. "You'd think you'd learn a thing or two after all this time. You pick up everything else fast. I guess women are just your blind spot."
Steve sits up, helplessly watching her go. "It's- I- You forgot your underwear!"
"Keep 'em," she throws over her shoulder just before the elevator doors snick shut behind her.
It takes her two weeks to miss Steve again in that horribly miserable way. It's a new record. She usually only lasts a few hours between bouts of Captain America induced depression.
She figures she can do this. The whole behaving like an adult thing and apologizing for her part in all this. After all, she participated in the unhealthy angry sex, too. And she did say some really terrible things to him (even if he started it). And her sudden guilt has nothing to do with her needing an excuse to see him.
On the way over she rehearses a sincerely contrite speech in her head. It's great, really. Heart warming. It maybe makes her fantasize about Steve swooning and running into her arms. And then sex. Happy sex. But that's irrelevant.
The elevator doors open and she's met with an antsy Tony practically squirming on top of her. "What the hell are you doing?" She asks half-skeptical, half-amused.
"Not much. Just greeting you. Been awhile. We should catch up, you know? Just us. One on one. Not here. Out. Lunch? Let's do lunch."
"Tony, it's past eight. We're so far past lunch that you missed dinner." DJ brushes by him into the living room. "You're being weird. Where's Steve?"
Tony scrambles to get back in her path, encroaching way too much in her personal space. "He's busy. You know he is. Always doing something. Can never relax. Can never-"
"You need to relax," she laughs. "What's he doing? Sparring? Paper work? It's important. I'm sure he won't mind if I pop in."
She dodges Tony and starts down the hall. He grabs for her shoulder, but she shrugs him off, confused by his determination. And that's when the door to Steve's bedroom opens, and out comes Steve. Shirt unbuttoned, hair disheveled, lips kiss-swollen.
And then out from behind him comes Maria Hill.
Time shudders to a halt in that moment. DJ's sanity falls away in little pieces, much like her heart quivers and bursts. She really has no room to be hurt, because really, Johnny Storm, but could it not have been anyone else?
She hates that woman. Really, truly. And she hates Fury and SHIELD and all the stupid brainless drones that work there. She hates being on a leash when she's just trying to help and she hates how it complicates her personal life and ruins everything.
And she hates the way that Steve's smiling at Hill like she's just the greatest. Like she's swell. And how he looks shocked that DJ's there and not embarrassed or ashamed. And how she loves him but it's too much sometimes. All the time.
She was right. It's better this way.
She doesn't need Steve or the Avengers.