A/N okay, just returned from seeing Captain America Civil War in the cinema for the second time, and realised that I had to write something. I'm still certain that a Stony fanfic must be written about it, and a fic with his Royal Highness and Serkovian dude (if anyone can remember his name, please tell me!) but I'll get to that later.
Firstly, the entire scene with Peggy. Damn, but they did that right. Is anyone else here thinking that maybe the writers read fanfiction, or that some fanfic writers are physic? Because this is the second time now that the canon is the same as a fic I've read before (the first time was a Dr Who thing where River and the Doctor go to the towers of Darillium and then the canon episode was almost identical, I swear- right down to the lines) and now I know I've read a fanfic where Steve gets a text saying Peggy's dead, and then there's this awesome scene where he goes to his room, but the rest of the Avengers follow him up there and comfort him…saying that, I've just realised that it's a comic as well. Huh. Bet the texting thing wasn't in that comic though.
Anyway, far too long an A/N. Enjoy Steve!whump! Oh, and some pretty big spoilers for Civil War…you have been warned
The first time Steve reads the line, it makes sense in his brain as a sentence, and all the words check out as proper English grammar, but somehow he can't quite grasp the meaning of it.
He reads it through again, just to make out what he's been sent, but his brain refuses to kick into gear and the text is left as an aimless jumble of words that somehow or other make less sense put together than they did the first time (and they didn't make much sense at that point, if he's being honest).
The third time he reads it, his brain finally computes the message only to freeze and shut down seconds later.
'She's gone in her sleep'.
The 'she' can only be Peggy, and loathe though he is to admit it, the unnamed number that texts him is one that he's memorised months ago as being from the nursing home where Peggy had been living out the final years of her life.
The key word there is live and that realisation makes Steve's breath hitch and mind stop in some sort o crazy self defence mechanism.
They're in the middle of an argument (Tony's arguing with him; he doesn't know who's winning) and his partner's finished talking, it falls to him to say something, anything, just to argue his point of view and try to win this damn thing.
But what's the point? All he could do now is utter a meaningless collection of words, delivering a speech to the others to convince them that he is right would be impossible (he knows Tony, intimately knows his body and how his mind works and there's no doubt in Steve's mind that he can change his lover's decision now). Captain America may be a leader, he may be able to persuade an army with words that work because he believes whole-heartedly in them, change the tide of a war, but Captain America is just a façade (and at the end of the day it all will go tumbling down).
Steve Rogers is left in his place, and he is all too aware of how inadequate he is in comparison.
The familiar sensation of red hot tears starts to prick at his eyes and he blinks once, trying to subtly destroy all traces of them but it's a futile struggle. Steve stands up and rushes out of the room, muttering a jagged excuse to the others, and the silence swells as it swallows the room whole.
Natasha is the first to move, and she marches straight over to Tony and shoves him in the direction of the stairway, where Steve fled the room to. The red head may not know exactly what's happening, but it's clear that Steve's upset and so right now Tony is the best person to send.
Tony hovers at the top of the stairs, wondering where to go, but it's easy to decide what to do as he spies the taller man on the stairwell below him, head in hands as he pinches the bridge of his nose tightly and breathes calmly. The dark haired man walks carefully down the metal stairs, hands up in front of him like he's approaching a wounded animal (and it seems like he is, even though he's got no idea what's going on- are the Accords really this upsetting? Is he angry, sad at arguing against Tony?) and bringing them to rest gently on Steve's shoulders.
They tense up at the touch and Steve bristles, honest to God bristles as Tony stares hard at him, attempting for firm and comforting at the same time.
However, it doesn't seem to be coming across too well as Steve barely glances up, only mumbling quietly "What do you want Stark," (and doesn't that hurt; Tony was sure they'd gotten over the whole last name thing months ago, right at the beginning of their relationship) and so he snaps back in kind, opening his mouth before he thinks, like normal.
"Oh you know, you to sign the Accords," Tony ends up throwing out, but the words aren't light and mocking like most of his comments are ("genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist"), it's somehow bitter and hangs heavy on Steve's bowed shoulders (and damn if they don't sink down a smidgen further at that).
"Go away Stark," the captain mutters, the words sounding tired and hurt and sad, and Tony immediately backtracks.
"No can do, Cap. You're stuck with me; we can get you to sign the Accords later," he cheerfully throws in, but Steve doesn't seem amused.
"Go away," comes the reply, short and clipped and so very unlike Steve that Tony frowns at it.
"No, really Cap-" Tony tries to ask but his words are cut off as the blonde finally looks up and roars at him
"GO AWAY TONY," and he's backing up, obeying Steve from habit, the force of his words and the force of the feeling that wells up within him at the sight of Steve's blue eyes bloodshot and lashes damp with water droplets, and suddenly Natasha's there and pushing him further away.
Tony grumbles at her, annoyed that someone else has taken his place next to Steve and that he still doesn't know what's wrong, and stomps off down the stairs to his bed room (the living room's been taken over by super humans), leaving Steve and Natasha alone.
The red head rubs Steve's cheek gently, fondly raising his head and focusing his baby blue eyes on her fiery ones and she blinks softly, reaching forward to wrap her long arms around his bulky body and rests his head on her shoulder.
"What's wrong, sweetie?" she whispers delicately into his ear, and can feel the trembling of his body as he struggles with the words and the emotions that they bring with them.
"It's- It's Peggy," he finally chokes out, voice breaking lightly at the sound of her name. "She's gone," Steve whispers to Natasha, and the depth of his loss is evident in his tone as he surrenders to the tears and cries achingly into her embrace for a few minutes.
She strokes his hair calmly, muttering "it's okay, sweetheart. It's going to be okay," into his ear, over and over again, not knowing if he was hearing her or blanking her, but feeling that it was important to say so anyway.
Natasha stands there and hugs him until he's exhausted and wiped clean of emotions, waving away the occasional concerned friend from the top of the stair well, and then the two of them make their way slowly to Clint's room (it's nearest and the archer wouldn't mind), where Steve falls into a deep sleep and she watches over him like a guardian angel.
Tony doesn't appear once, despite the fact that it's his boyfriend lying there in the bed, drained from crying over the lost love of his life.
He's not around the next few days either as Steve slowly gets back on his feet (even if too much of his day is spent in Natasha's arms) nor for the packing of the flight to England.
And it's Natasha who flies with him to London and is there with him when the funeral ends and everything is said and done, Natasha who's his only support in the days of loss and grief.
Steve can't help but wonder if he's losing Tony, and somewhere in his mind, the entire situation splinters into a million different pieces and his life falls apart.
Just like them.