Disclaimers: All rights to Marvel. Characters, lines and movies context from Marvel movies Captain America: The First Avenger and The Avengers. Joanna Splendore is my original character.

Author's Note 10: Thank you for your patience and support. I hope you can forgive me too...

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Chapter 10 - Reminiscences... of heartbreak

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Steve entered the house calling for Joanna and she came running, but when she saw him, she he stopped with her hand clutched to her heart.

"Joanna, it's me, can you believe it?" He went to meet her with a big smile in his face, "It's really me," but he was so taller that her head was on his chest. He reached out for her, but he noticed that her eyes were of pure panic. Still smiling, he bent down, "Bella."

Joanna didn't see the strong, handsome man he had become - she saw a giant-non-Steve. She waited for him ten days, praying for his safe return. Now she was looking at his eyes and hearing his voice calling her the way only he did - but this wasn't Steve. It was a nightmare, and she fainted.

Steve acted quickly, and grabbed her before she felt, carrying her close to his chest. All he wanted was to have her in his arms, but what he felt was completely different and strange. She was so small that he was afraid of hurt her, so he placed her carefully on the couch. "I missed you so much," he whispered kissing her forehead.

Since the procedure, he had superior senses and reflexes, but he didn't expect Joanna's reaction, and it baffled him. He went to get a glass of water, but bumped into the shelf and almost knocked the vase; nothing seemed to go right.

He came back slowly, and sat on the couch that creaked with his weight - Joanna woke up in a jolt. "Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you." He offered the glass of water and she blinked slowly with the sad realization that it wasn't a bad dream.

"I'm still not used to my new size." It was a shame not to feel at ease in your own home but at least she sipped the water. "Are you feeling better? Sorry, I'm doing everything wrong."

He wanted to hug her and kiss her, but she was painfully uncomfortable. Her watery eyes were frightened and confused so Steve started to explain what happened. "Let me tell you everything, ok?" He tried to simplify the process, speaking of injections and the ray-chamber, but she was getting more terrified until she put her hands on her face and began to cry. He reached out to calm her, but she flinched. His touch was completely different - the temperature and texture of his skin, the size and strength of his hand.

He was living the nightmare then - see her crying unable to do anything. "Bella, please, don't cry. I am ok, no more asthma, no more diseases. I'm stronger, faster; they turned me into a super soldier." And he showed her the paper, "Look, it all happened yesterday."

'The New York Examiner – Wednesday, June 23, 1943 – Nazis in New York – Mystery man saves child'

She read the paper just looking at the picture for a few moments when she finally found words, "You got shot?!" All she could see were bullets holes, she put her hand on her mouth and froze entirely. Steve continued to talk trying to reassure her that he wasn't hurt, but she kept still, voiceless, in utterly shock.

'Dr. Erskine said that the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. Create a protective system of regeneration and healing.'

"I'll show you, ok?" He picked a knife at the kitchen and sat next to her again, this time the couch creaked louder. He moved carefully and said as calm as he could, "I'll make a little cut in my hand here, and it'll heal. You'll see. Trust me."

Joanna desperately wanted that something made sense in all this madness. His eyes were the same deep blue ones that she always trusted. His voice was the same earnest one that always told her the absolute truth. He asked, "Ready?" She simply nodded. Steve did exactly what he told her and it all happened the way he did it would - the cut in his hand healed in front of her eyes.

Then she moved - she got up and picked a napkin, sitting again and gently cleaning the blood in his hand, but when she touched his hand, she pulled back quickly. No cut, no scar. Joanna was relieved but still shocked; that was too fantastic to be true. She was a simple cook that liked romance novels. This was science fiction, far beyond her imagination.

Steve had never seen her so lost. It was too much for her. It was too much for anyone, even for him. But the last thing in the world Steve wanted was to hurt her. So he did what he knew that would always make her feel better - he said he was hungry.

'Your metabolism burns four times faster than the average person.'

Joanna instantly became herself, and ran to the kitchen to make him dinner.

Steve was relieved to see her back to life again. He went to the bathroom to clean himself; he had to bend down to look in the mirror, and ended up breaking the towel holder. He had to be extra careful; he couldn't do anything automatic anymore. He needed to get used to his house with his new size. He was experiencing what he hadn't the chance before; feeling like a teenage boy who grew up too fast.

Moments later there was lots of food on the table. He grabbed the old chair to sit down, but tested its weight first in order not to crack it. He sat carefully, "We'll need some new furniture."

He ate everything she cooked - she was astonished, but proud. Steve apologized, saying that he would eat a lot more, and that made Joanna smile shyly. "I missed your smile," he said but quickly looking down when her eyes filled with tears again.

Feeding him was one of the things she loved to do, and he was there, eating as never before. The way he moved, smiled, and talked about things during the dinner showed her that he was still Steve. But she didn't recognize or understand all that had changed – giant Steve was unfamiliar, he wasn't her Steve, not anymore. Her head hurt and she started to cry again.

He couldn't help himself and touched her face. She didn't flinch this time; she wanted to lean into his hand and to surrender to his touch as she ever did. But closing her eyes the feeling of his now huge hand was unknown, unwanted – something she didn't feel for a long time, and for the first time in years, she remembered her late husband. She shuddered in a repulse more of the past memory, than from the present touch, but Steve removed his hand devastated. Then her words echoed at his mind and he understood. You won't come back. The Steve she knew was gone; he was a stranger for her.

"Joanna, I am back. They just fixed me."

The puzzled look she gave to him meant everything. There was nothing wrong with him before, he was always perfect for her.

That realization hurt him badly. He didn't think about her feelings; he didn't think about how his change would affect her. He followed his dream and left her behind, now he couldn't go back. He didn't want go back - he couldn't be that little guy anymore. But little Steve was the love of Joanna's life.

"Please, forgive me," he knelt in front of her. "I never meant to hurt you." He was feeling miserable, but he couldn't cry. "I only wanted to be better." He felt dry… empty. Getting up he went to his studio and carefully laid down on his old bed that didn't fit him. Everything on the house was screaming that he didn't belonged there anymore.

His whole life was passing through his mind in a flash – he wasn't the skinny kid anymore, but at what costs?

When he went back to the living room, hours later, he found her asleep on the couch. She was so drained that she didn't wake up when he called. Like handling a child, Steve carried her to the bed, and tucked her in gently. She was so beautiful; he sat on the floor and stayed there looking at her peaceful face.

Steve still couldn't cry. The guilt was consuming him. How could I be so blind?

All his life he felt he was a failure. She was the most important person for him, and he didn't realize he was always perfect for her. He always had been.

Would he be happy with her, if he stayed small? Would he get a decent job, to provide for her? Or he would have to end up accepting her money? In any of these options, the financial gap could have destroyed him or their relationship.

Could he be happy with himself? If he had the chance, would he go back? Would he do it, if only for her? Well, he'll do anything for her, but in doing so, he would be killing a large part of himself. Because, unfortunately, although little Steve was everything for Joanna, he wasn't enough for himself.

Now it was too late, he couldn't find the answers to those questions. He fell asleep with his head resting on her bed.

In the morning, Joanna woke up and found giant Steve asleep by her bedside. She couldn't hold back tears. Closing her eyes, she was overwhelmed by all the memories of the life they shared together - 7 years - a lifetime.

When he left, she was afraid that he would die. The truth was that a part of him was dead - the part that she loved most. She missed him desperately - his touch, his arms around her - she could never forget little Steve. Joanna didn't know if she could breathe without him, and she knew she would never love anyone else.

But he wasn't dead, and she still loved him, but could she love giant Steve? Even if she could, he wasn't her Steve anymore. He was a true hero; he was in the papers, in the Army. Would she be worth of him?

"Steve?" she called softly, and slowly, carefully, she caressed his head. His hair felt the same and she was relieved. He leaned into her touch and opened his eyes smiling. She was truly concerned, "You shouldn't be on the floor, you're gonna be sore." But before he was fully awake, she got up quickly, inviting, "Breakfast?" She didn't want him to see the tears still falling from her eyes again.

At the table, eating and talking, they found a relative normality in their lives. But she was never tired of admiring him eat; that was a change that she enjoyed. He was definitely more confident, talkative, and proud of himself.

He gave her his last drawings. "For your cookbook. You know, we have to publish it," Steve said with sincere admiration and she blushed astonished. "I'm serious. The book is beautiful and you recipes are the best. You are the best." Joanna had written each recipe with her classic calligraphy and Steve had sketched each one of them. Through all these years it had been their project together. "You're my petite Italian chef," he said fondly and she smiled ashamed.

Then he told her about the rejection from the Army and the job with the Senator. "It's not what I wanted, but it's a step, and I got promoted," he said a little embarrassed. "He's calling me Captain America."

When she saw him so disappointed, she reacted instantly. That petite woman was his rock. She still knew, even as giant Steve, what he needed to hear. She looked at him, her eyes filled with tears of pride. "You'll find a way. The world needs a hero like you," that was the truth that she always held in her heart.

Steve met her gaze with lost eyes. "I'm not a hero." I'm still not enough.

Even through the tears, she smiled widely, "You always have been." She looked so fragile and yet she was giving him her unconditional support, "Il mio eroe." Then she reached for him and touched his face.

He pulled her into an awkward embrace - it was like he was holding a crystal - but there was one thing on his mind, he needed to know. He gently caught her chin in his hand and he looked at her tearing eyes asking her permission. She nodded, closing her eyes; she needed to know too. He bent down and pressed his lips to hers. The heartbroken realization took hold of them both – something was missing. Someone. Joanna was everything his mind remembered and his heart needed, but their bodies didn't fit together, not anymore.

The simple truth was that she belonged to little Steve, and no one ever would take his place, not even giant handsome Steve. And he now belonged to the world. Crying silently, she took the ring off her finger, but he held her hand in despair. "Please," he begged, "It's yours." She rested her head on his chest, his arms still cradling her.

The thought of not marrying her was devastating, but he would never do anything to make her uncomfortable. She couldn't see them as a couple - there was no way back. It was a pain he had never felt before, only surpassed by losing his mother. But what mostly shattered his heart was the guilt - to know that he had hurt her this way. "Please, forgive me." He didn't know if he couldn't ever forgive himself. He was holding everything inside him - he was unworthy of her and as such he didn't have the right of tears.

Joanna knew him; she couldn't let him blaming himself, so she spoke with all her love, "It is your destiny, what you were born for." Her voice was a murmur, "I know you didn't mean to hurt me. I will always love you."

It was the last straw, he broke, and tears erupted in full force, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry..." It was all he could say, ashamed, lost. She sat on the couch, and he dropped on his knees, resting his head on her lap, wrapping his now strong arms around her. "I love you," he whispered through tears, "I can't live without you."

She held him, "I love you too. You will never lose me." Their tears were mingling together.

Senator Brant had opened a credit for Steve to pay for new clothes, and other personal effects. Between the rehearsals for the War Bond shows and preparation to travel, Steve spent the next couple days fixing everything around in the house. With the payment advance he received, he bought a new heater, changed the lockers, reinforced doors and windows. He was adamant to leave her as safe and comfortable as possible during his absence. No matter what, she was his home.

Before leaving, he gave her all the money he got - she didn't want it. Then he said he'd eat more; she'd have to be ready when he came back. He knew her, and Joanna couldn't argue with him about this, she never could. He gave her the Senator's office address and number, also his assistant's contact information. "Call if you need anything, they will find me. You're listed as my only family."

He took her into a last embrace, asking her to take care of herself until he got back, "I'll write you every day." Through tears, she told him to be safe. He didn't want to let go of her, he sighed deeply and kissed her forehead. He left, turning his back on the only life he knew; while inside both Steve and Joanna were hollow.

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End Note 10: Thanks for reading.

I hope you understand why it took me so long to write this chapter, and forgive my English mistakes. But it's done. I'm heartbroken with them; no more tears left. Now we need to find a way to heal. I promise the next chapter they will start it.

My dearest faithful friend Winterbeauti held my hand here; I'd be dead without her. Many thanks to Thiveril/Elwyn, who helped me to get this chapter ready.

Feedback is the best way to improve. So, please, review it.

xxoo Mari