Putting out two new, small chapters at once. Thanks for the reviews :)
.
Natasha had followed him without question when he left the burial service. He was striding away before Peggy's casket was lowered into the ground, unable to bear the thought of shovels entombing what remained of his past. Natasha stalked him silently, not saying a word when he glanced down in dull surprise to see her standing at his side as he waited for the sedan.
She laid a hand on his wrist and squeezed, and it was enough.
Inside, his old apartment was a ruin. The new, many-legged tenants had strung their cobwebs in corners and across doorways, catching him in the face at every turn. He could almost feel their hateful eyes glaring him as he reclaimed his territory. He hadn't been back here since he'd left with Sam ages ago. Everywhere he looked, a thick layer of dust covered what seemed to be the untidy leavings of a man in a hurry. Natasha hadn't come in with him. He hadn't wanted her to follow, he was too ravaged for any company save his own. She'd leaned over to press a soft kiss on his cheek and whispered warmly next to his ear, "I'll be around." He watched the sedan bear her on to a destination unknown. He hadn't thought to ask what she meant or where she was going. He hadn't replied or even told her goodbye. Somehow he couldn't muster up enough emotion to care about that just now.
Steve sank down into the easy chair with a sigh. This apartment wasn't his, not really. It had never belonged to him, never felt like his home. It had a cold, cramped feel it to it, like something long buried. Whose life was this, anyway? Not his, but no, he didn't really know anymore.
Buried. He sank down and tried not to think about anything.
He'd left without saying goodbye and Natasha didn't feel any sort of way about it. It was the way of men like him. Strong, silent, and lone suffering. In honesty she was the same. Never one to lash out or weep, she would find a dark corner to curl herself into a ball and quietly wait for the pain to recede.
Except for Alexi, she reminded herself. You went mad. And she had gone mad. Most of her kills from that time were blanketed in a white haze of foggy memory. She wasn't sure if she'd suffered a trauma that affected her memory or if she'd intentionally blocked access to it. She knew what the real answer was of course, but some truths are better left in the cold ground.