AN: I only play in the MCU. I sadly own nothing. And this chapter has some sensitive topics, just as a warning.

Chapter 14

Over the next few days, Steve and I fell into an easy routine. We would meet at the canteen every morning, get breakfast to go, and then, eating as we went, cover in depth the years he'd missed. When our brains couldn't take any more, we'd have lunch, then I would introduce him to some new form of technology. We'd usually stop when his eyes glazed over from my over-enthusiasm. What can I say? I've always been a bit of a techno-geek.

After his tech class, Steve and I would head to the training room. It took me a while, but I finally got him on to something other than the punching bag. Especially after I realized he'd gone through twenty in the first week. He made a lot of use of the weights and nearly wore the treadmill out, running for miles. While he did his thing, I would do my own, a little yoga, a little running, a little target practice. But we always ended sparring. It was the highlight of my day, knowing I could (sort of) hold my own against Captain America.

Once we were both too sore to move, or rather, I was, we would have dinner, back in my office. Evenings were spent watching movies, listening to music, and covering sports. We started in 1945, since he'd been there for anything before. We watched a lot of musicals, and I even taught him how to dance. I could tell it was a bittersweet thing for him, but I didn't push.

While we were settling in to our routine, I noticed little things that told me he wasn't doing as well as he wanted me to think. He was working out aggressively, like if he stopped, the past would catch up to him. I would find a new punching bag hanging in the gym, not the one that had been there the night before. And even his super serum couldn't take care of the bags that were starting to form under his eyes. And then, it all came to a head early one morning.

That day started out like any other. The radio woke Achilles and me (this time it was Michael Buble; always a better option), and Achilles danced around my ankles as I got my things ready for my shower. He even sang to me while I was in the bathroom. Then, he helped me pick out my outfit for the day, growling at the things I shouldn't wear, and yipping at the good choices.

Once I got to the canteen at work, I looked around before realizing that Steve was not there waiting for me as usual. I waited for a few more minutes, worrying more and more as the clock ticked on, since Steve was nothing if not punctual. I asked if anyone had seen him, thinking maybe he'd already gotten our food and was waiting for me in my office, but to no avail. No one had seen him since dinner the night before. Finally, I decided to go look for him, heeding the growing unsettling feeling that was disturbing my peace.

I checked my office first, just in case, but, not surprisingly, there was no sign of him. Next place was the training room, but he wasn't there, either. It looked like he'd had a pretty rough night and hadn't had a chance to clean up yet, looking at the five punching bags on the floor. After leaving there, I took off toward the barracks and his room, running nearly flat out to get to him. I couldn't explain it, but somehow I knew he needed me.

Rather winded, I banged on his door as soon as I slid to a stop. "Steve?" I called, imagining all sorts of scenarios in my mind when he didn't answer. Evil henchmen kidnapping him turned into General Ross trying to force him into endless experiments. But even my imagination couldn't come up with what faced me once I forced my way into his room.

Steve was lying on his bed, completely drenched in sweat. His hands were gripping the mattress so hard, springs were poking through. And his eyes were screwed shut, keeping him locked in the world of his nightmare.

"Bucky, grab my hand! Bucky, no!" The scream that ripped itself from his throat was barely human. It tore at my heart.

Without thinking, I rushed to Steve's side, shaking him to bring him back from that horrible memory. "Steve, wake up! It's just a dream!"

The words were barely out of my mouth when a hand was wrapping itself around my throat. Steve flipped his body, landing us both on the ground, with me underneath. His eyes were open, but unseeing. And the hand that wasn't around my neck was forming into a fist as I pushed back, trying to break his grip.

Suddenly, he went slack. "Emily?" he asked, completely in shock. "What are you doing in here? What happened?" He was utterly disoriented.

"You were dreaming," I replied, now pushing his hand aside easily. "I tried to wake you, but I think you thought I was attacking you."

"I thought you were HYDRA," he confessed softly, looking at me in horror.

"Well, I'm not," I answered, in a really bad joke.

"I could have killed you," he shot back, jumping to his feet. "What were you thinking?!"

I was a bit slower to my feet, but not to my answer. "I was thinking that my friend was hurting, and I needed to do something to stop it! I was not about to sit there and watch while you were hurting!"

"But I hurt you! I could have killed you!" Steve was so insistent that I understand that fact. But here's the kicker: I did understand it, but there was no way I was going to let that stop me.

"You didn't hurt me anymore than I've been hurt in the ring," I told him, getting very testy now. "And the moment you realized it was me, you stopped. You didn't punch me like you were going to. You stopped, Steve. You didn't hurt me, not really."

"Then I must be imagining the bruises that are already forming on your neck that just happen to be the exact shape and size of my hand," he snarked back at me.

At any other time, I would have been proud of him showing this much attitude. Instead, I just got pissed. "I am fine, Steve Rogers! I've survived much worse, and you've thrown this whole conversation out of whack! This is not about me. It's about you."

"I'm fine." The angry look on his face only intensified. As did the one on mine.

"You are not fine! Your best friend died what seems like only a few weeks ago for you. Your entire world is gone. You are not fine! You are bottling it all up, pretending to be fine for me so I don't see how upset you are. But then, when I'm not around, you beat the crap out of punching bags to avoid sleep! And when you do actually sleep, you dream about the worst moments of your life. So don't even pretend like you are fine!" I shouted.

"You're right!" Steve yelled, turning on me like I was the enemy. And right then, I was. "You're right! I'm not fine! I watched my best friend fall to his death, because of me! I watched countless men die, because they were following me. I wake up, in this strange world, completely different from everything I know, and everything familiar is gone. Nothing is the same. I have lost everything I know. And then, you come in to my life, with your cheerfulness, and your stubborn feistiness, and you make me like you. Against my will, you make me forget, for just a little bit. So when you're around, I cling to that, to be able to push all that away for as long as I can. 'Cause when you're not around, it all comes rushing back, clawing, tearing at my mind. I see Bucky falling, over and over and over. I hear Peggy crying over the radio. I imagine Howard dying in an awful wreck. I see Morita and Falsworth, both dying in horrible ways. I see my mom, wasting away from a terrible sickness, and she's still trying to keep me away so I don't get it, too. I see men in uniforms, telling me that my dad is never coming back. And then, I see you, being taken away from me, in different ways, by different people. Everything I've ever cared about has always been taken away from me, so why not this girl with the personality like sunshine? She's the only thing that's keeping me sane, so maybe she's not even real. That's what my mind keeps telling me in the dark, whispering to me that all this can't possibly be real. Maybe I never woke up, maybe I'm still trapped in that ice. Maybe you're really HYDRA, and you're just keeping me here for some diabolical plan. I can't sleep for all the thoughts that are running through my mind, and the rare times I actually can, those thoughts turn into nightmares. And then, to top it all off, while I'm dreaming, you try to wake me up, and I nearly kill you. So, no, Emily, I'm not fine. But I don't know what to do about it."

Steve stood there in front of me, his previously defiant posture now slumped. He looked positively broken. His head hanged down, shoulders drooping more than I'd ever seen, hands clenched at his side. But his eyes were what broke my heart. His eyes looked so haunted, almost dead.

"Have you ever thought," I started, going to stand in front of him and taking his face in my hands, "that maybe you're not meant to do this alone? I'm here to help you."

Steve looked me in the eye for a long moment, before suddenly crumpling. He fell to his knees as great, gasping sobs tore through him. He'd brought me with him, so I simply wrapped my arms around him, running my hand over his back like I would a small child, while he let go of everything he'd been holding inside for the past weeks.

His sobs eventually calmed to occasional shudders against my shoulder. My feet were long past feeling, but I was long past caring. I didn't know how long he would be like this, but I knew I would be there for him for as long as he needed me.

After a while, I could feel him relaxing against me, and I knew I physically couldn't support his entire weight for much longer. So I slowly maneuvered myself so that my back was against the wall, with my legs out in front of me. Steve shifted enough that his head was in my lap, with his body curled up against me. He was asleep, and it looked peaceful.

Looking up, I realized that his door was still wide open from when I'd picked the lock to get in. There were a few curious agents looking in, but they scurried when I glared at them. Sometimes, it paid to have a reputation around the place. Of course, most only knew not to make me mad because of those I called family. They didn't know that I could cause nearly as much damage as those who'd trained me if they dared try to gossip about this.

A few minutes later, Grant Ward happened by and did a double take when he saw me. Close the door, I mouthed to him, and thankfully, he did. Bless that man, I thought, before turning my attention back to the one sleeping on my lap.

Steve looked so peaceful, more so than I'd ever seen him. The faint, ever-present furrow in his brow completely disappeared. He didn't even twitch. He simply breathed in and out, in and out.

After watching him for five minutes, I gave in to the temptation that I'd somehow resisted the entire time he'd been unconscious: I ran my fingers through his gorgeous hair. It was thick, possibly even thicker than mine, and incredibly soft. And apparently, addictive. Once I did it once, it was impossible to stop. I found it oddly soothing, just the repetitive motion of pulling my fingers through his hair.

Once I came to the conclusion that he wasn't going to wake up any time soon, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my electronic library. I stopped on one, looked at Steve, then back to my phone. "Well, you are probably the last person on earth who hasn't heard of Harry Potter. I desperately need to remedy that." So I pulled up the first book and started reading out loud.

Somewhere in the middle of Harry's excursion to the North Tower with Hermione and Norbert the baby dragon, Steve started stirring. He didn't open his eyes, so I simply kept reading. Once I got to the end of the chapter, I took a sip of the water bottle I'd found in the mini fridge I'd been sitting by. "You'd be surprised at the weird dreams I was having," Steve said, still not opening his eyes.

"Please tell me they involved flying broomsticks and pet owls," I teased.

"In fact, they did. And missing toads and talking paintings," he answered, finally looking at me.

"Those are the best kind of dreams. I've been having them since 1999," I told him. "And they just keep getting better, just like the books."

Steve smiled, and it was a happier one than I'd ever seen on his face. He seemed a bit more at peace, even though I knew it would be a long process before he was completely over this. "Thank you, Emily," he said softly.

"For reading Harry Potter? Anytime," I joked, never one to feel at ease with sincere gratitude.

He simply looked at me with one eyebrow raised. "You know that's not what I meant," he scolded gently.

"Oh, you meant for being a pillow? Well, you now owe me some serious chocolate for that," I continued. Then, just as he realized his head was still in my lap, I realized I was still playing with his hair. We both jumped apart, blushing furiously.

To add to my embarrassment, my stomach took that time to growl loudly. "I think it's time to take care of that chocolate I owe you," Steve said with a grin.

He helped me up from the floor, waiting while I stretched the kinks out of my back and neck. Then, just before he opened the door for me, he turned back and said, "Thank you, for helping me, for being there when I needed you. Even after I almost killed you."

"It would take more than that to even almost kill me, big fella," I joked. Then, at his mildly scolding eyebrow raise, I relented. "What else are friends for?"

AN: I know this is a short one, but it just seemed like the right place to end it. And I'm sorry it's almost late. It was hard to write, trying to get it at least somewhat realistic. Steve is actually a hard character to write! Anyway, I just wanted to thank those that reviewed/followed/favorited since the last chapter. Ans , even though I didn't say it, that last chapter was for you and your plot bunnies. Thanks for reading, everyone, and please review! I adore hearing back from you, and would love to hear what you think, favorite parts, even grammar corrections that I missed. Reviews make me happy, and when I'm happy, I write more. Hint, hint. :) Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter!

P.S. I made a few small changes to the earlier chapters. I was subconsciously stealing the name of Coulson's team from another author. I totally thought it was their actual name, until I Googled it. So now their name is Omega Team, and they will explain why later. Thanks again for reading!