Author's note: So yeah, you are reading right. Another Steve/Beth story, tho I would say is more of a glimpse to (my) Beth's past life and actual life So, now with this stated let's proceed as usual. Read, Complain, Review or Favorite. Do as you please.

Disclaimer: Nothing here is mine, so, yeah, we all now this was created by our master, Stan Lee (God bless him) and I would say this new pairing could count as OTP since he gave us his blessing to ship Beth and Steve the moment he said "Ask her number, you moron" so, now I'll just shut up and let you proceed.


"A pill to make you numb"

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She touched her cheeks, narrowing her eyes at the mirror and pouting her lips only to laugh bitterly, a doll, that's what they called her. All of those disgusting men used to call her like that and that made her feel dirty and disgusted with herself.

She patted her cheeks, shaking those memories from her mind, she was in a new place, she came to New York to start fresh. No brother to sell her to his friends, no father to steal her pay and tips and spend it all in beers, no mother to judge her. Nothing of that, here in New York she had a little but warm apartment and a modest but satisfying job as a waitress where all customers treated her with respect.

She looked at her hands, they were shaking. No matter how perfect her life was here, she was too damn broken to function in a correct way, too fucked up but no one seemed to notice it, perhaps it was her blonde hair and her angelic blue eyes, her easy smile and her rosy cheeks but she knew it. She was too fucked up, it was only matter of time before her mask started to crack into pieces but for now the makeup could cover the tiny cracks and the mascara could hide they hurt and desperation in her eyes.

She was screaming for help, screaming in .needing someone to hold her between two warm arms but no one was coming, she would wait and wait and wait but it was growing tiring and she no longer had the strength to lie to herself and to keep hiding her sadness under layers and layers of mascara and dry her tears on the napkins of her kitchen. Forgetting everything seemed like a more tempting like in those days when she was younger and forgetting was like a little hide and seek and her brother would give her those strange candies to make her stop crying.

She looked around and cleared her throat, her shift had finished a while ago and today was her turn to close, no one would notice, she nodded to herself and looked in her purse, fastly taking out a little bag and taking out the only credit card she had. She smiled while making the fine white lines, inhaling deeply and smiling, soon she would start to feel like in a cloud, floating and feeling happier than she had in a while.

She laughed softly at her reflection, when she was little she always feared the night, never wanting to go to sleep because of the scary monster and now almost 15 years later she knew that there were no monsters in her closet or under the bed, the monster was her.

Suddenly she started to laugh harder. - Look at you, the perfect doll. So angelical and pretty, so innocent yet as dirty as the mud. Why couldn't it be better? Why could you never be good enough? You stupid dreamer, always thinking that things would get better but they never did.

Why couldn't you be braver? Why couldn't you stop them from breaking you? -she looked at herself in the mirror with hate and disdain in her eyes- You are nothing but a stupid, broken little scared girl who wants to live like an adult.

Beth? -a soft and too well-known voice called her name- Betty?

She turned around and gasped - Steve? What are you doing here? Weren't you on a mission? -she blinked trying to sober up but Steve was too intuitive, also he had seen her like this.

Beth, what happened? -he said as he approached her as if she was a wounded animal and in lots of ways she was. - Betty?

For the first time in days she let the desperation in her voice come out, she took off her mask and clung to Steve, he was the only real thing in her world. The only person who would look under the layers of mascara and makeup, behind the smiles and the bitter laugh. But even he knew better than to chose her as his soul mate, even he could sense the broken little girl that laid under the facade of a young, happy woman.

No, he would only hug her and listen to her, promising her that he would protect her but never promising that he would stay and that was good because she couldn't promise him that she wouldn't want him to stay with her tho the question always lingered when in the middle of the night he would get up quietly and dress himself, she already knew his routine, he would fidget for a while and then he would whisper her name in her ear, waiting for an answer and never finding it (or ignoring it); next he would get off of bed and start to pick up his clothes and in the end he would kiss her temple murmuring sweet nothings in her ear and she would let out a deep breath only to turn the other way and keep faking her non-existent sleep.

Always in silence, because it didn't matter their feelings, the would never win this war, it was lost from the moment she started to need those candies. The only thing he could do was love her in silence, giving her what she needed the most.

A pair of warm arms to keep her from drowning but never strong enough to take her out of the water.

And he would leave because even he knew when he could save the damsel and when he was too late to save her.