Disclaimer: The Avengers, its characters and The Marvel Cinematic Universe belong to Marvel Studios and The Walt Disney Company, among many others. I'm only a fan, writing this for love of this film franchise and personal pleasure.

A.N.: I'm still here, and I am still writing ─ 2020 was a strange year and I was fortunate enough to have been so occupied throughout most of it, with work, family and friends. These are painful chapters coming up now and it was hard for me to properly get into it for so long (all the loss and pain from the Snap resembling so closely our current world), but I do want to keep on writing this. We're now properly moving into Avengers: Endgame. Things are about to get messy…

To Build a Home

21. Shattered Hope

The world was a blur.

How had they come to this?

Steve had no idea how he'd managed to find himself back at the Avengers compound, back on Earth. One moment they were standing before Thanos and interrogating him about the Infinity Stones, the next he was looking without really seeing as Thor despondently trudged out of the hut, his cape swishing slowly in the still air, just moments after the titan's head had rolled on the floor. He had vague recollections of his companions slowly filtering out after the Asgardian king and a notion of strong yet gentle hands pulling him along and making sure he'd followed them.

Time suddenly had no meaning. They'd lost and they'd failed. Again. Thanos was gone and the Infinity Stones were gone. Their last plan, their Hail Mary, the last hope they had of turning things back to the way they were before was just… gone. And now he really didn't know what to do.

Suddenly Tony's words came back to haunt him, crashing down on him with all the magnificent weight they'd had as Steve lost his focus and didn't have anything else holding him up.

"And I needed you, as in past tense. That trumps what you need, it's too late, buddy."

It's too late. Nothing else was keeping him grounded now, all the defenses he'd kept up since that outburst and that had kept him moving forward even though the urge to just cave in before his friend's pain had been monumental.

"I got nothing for you, Cap. No trust, liar."

It turned out Steve also had nothing now. No arguments, no justifications, no way around it. He'd always thought he'd been doing the things he'd done, chosen the path he'd been on with the idea that it was all working out for the greater good ─ that he was standing up for his morals, that it'd all meant something and that he was working to protect everyone. He'd died before, he'd been dead for a long time and he'd come back for a reason ─ he'd had to believe that, to believe in something (always the optimist). But now the road he'd traveled and dragged others onto had brought them right here, with half the world simply gone and there was nothing he could do to fix this.

And he did not know what to do.

Everything was grey. All was smoke, ash and dust. Snow falling on a precipice as a train sped on a mountainside, tears stinging his eyes and streaming down his face as the wind and the snow and the endless falling drowned out everything else. A voice screaming in the distance until an eerie silence suddenly descended on him, oppressive and suffocating in the sudden stillness amid the heat of the jungle.

"Steve?" He heard that voice, Bucky's voice over and over again, that note of question in his name, creeping inside into his very bones like a foreboding warning, echoing around him, ringing in until it made him want to scratch his ears out. Looking without seeing as his best friend's form dissolved and disappeared right in front of him, getting lost on the forest floor in infinite dust particles.

An unnatural fog covered his vision, grey and thick swirling in and out, suddenly turning into an infinite blanket of clouds. He heard the roar of an aeroplane speeding through the air at an impossible speed, the cold lapping at his fingertips as he gripped the wheel and plunged down. Down, down, downwards into icy cold water, his skin on fire and his lungs screaming as Peggy's voice faded away.

"Steve?"

He could see it all, almost as if he'd lived through it. Somehow coming home, meeting Peggy and taking her out dancing ─ flashing lights and falling confetti, red and blue and white balloons all around them. But out of the corner of his eye he'd keep seeing images of battles and wars waging all around him, falling comrades with bursts of dark red on their chests and exploding lights like bombs in the air. Yet it wasn't real, none of it was real.

"None of us can go back."

None of it had been real and he'd never come back. But why were those images burned in his mind? He'd never celebrated the end of war, of any war, really. He'd always just kept moving forward from one battle to another, with no time for celebrations or any real form of respite. That was how he operated; he needed to keep moving. There was always the next step, to prepare for whatever was coming next ─ because there was always a next battle.

"Steve…?"

He knew what had been about to happen. Did he really want to punch his way out of yet another mess? But there was no other way, he'd only ever been able to depend on himself, his own fists and his head and his heart and his belief that fighting was the way to make this world a better place (better for whom?). And instead of finding a place of happiness and peace, he'd been living in (living through) a neverending world of conflict and war.

There was always a war, he felt bound to the war. He'd been born during a war, lost his parents to the Great World Wars, come of age during one, sacrificed his meagre body and been reborn for a war. Lost his life for a war. Became alive again for the next one, and had given up everything he'd had (really, he'd never had anything), all for the war, always for the war. The war was a part of him, almost like it was encrusted in his DNA with the super soldier serum, it followed him everywhere and led him nowhere, to barren wastelands and luscious gardens with wooden huts and rolling titan heads.

"Steve?"

A voice kept calling him and through the haziness of his mind he couldn't tell anymore who it was. Tony? Bucky? Peggy? Natasha? His memories and hallucinations were mingling together and muddling everything up so much that he'd lost touch of reality and for a moment he was afraid his mind was gone forever ─ until there seemed like a metaphorical light was shining brightly directly into his eyes, flickering in and out of his eyesight. Was it the end of the tunnel? Was this the end?

"Steve?" He heard the voice again and this time it was much more tangible, much more real somehow. He blinked up and suddenly everything seemed to come into focus at once and he realized someone was shining a light in his eyes. He recognized at last the figure standing before him and that was calling his name.

"Banner…?" He mumbled out, his voice strangely hoarse and his mouth feeling as if it were filled with cement, cotton balls and lead all at once. He tried to lift his head and get a sense of where he was, but his movements were sluggish, as if he still weren't completely in control of his body. He cleared his throat and tried once more. "Wh-What the hell happened?"

"Hey. I'm glad you're back, buddy." Bruce tried for a reassuring smile, bringing out a cup of water and helping him up a little, but Steve still had a hard time understanding him.

"Back? What do you mean?" He asked and the cold water soothed his throat and helped somewhat, as at last he seemed able to focus on his surroundings, recognizing he was lying on a bed in one of the medical rooms of the hospital wing of the compound.

"Yeah, sorry about that. We sort of had to sedate you." The doctor said with an apologetic grimace as he relayed what had transpired in his soft voice. "We came back and you were in this catatonic state. You were up for almost a whole week with no sleep and you weren't making any sense."

For a moment, Steve could only stare back at him and blink his eyes as he took this information in. "You sedated me?" He questioned then in a deadpan voice, feeling as if it had happened to someone else and not actually him ─ and, really, given that he had no memory of going in or out of this catatonic state it might as well have happened to a different person.

"It took about four times the normal dose, but yeah." Bruce explained with a somewhat helpless shrug. "You were out for a whole day, though, honestly, I thought you'd be out for longer than that, but I guess that's the super serum at work, huh. How are you feeling?"

Honestly, he still had no idea how he was feeling (about anything, at this point), but Steve just replied that he was fine now and that he'd like to get out of that hospital room already. Bruce argued that it was the middle of the night and he might as well just rest up until the morning and wait until they ran more tests to thoroughly check his condition, but the blonde man was adamant about it and after checking his vitals the doctor had no choice but to comply with his wishes. Bruce would never be able to hold Steve back from anything by himself, maybe not even by turning into the Hulk (not that that was a possibility at the moment, anyway).

Steve felt an immense sense of relief as he removed the IV from his arm and his bare feet touched the cold linoleum floor. He'd always detested hospital rooms and the helpless feeling they'd generally bring in him whenever he had to stay in one as a patient. Thankfully, since taking the super soldier serum the occasions this had happened had been very sparse and short-lived. He was glad he'd been out of it for most of his latest stay in the hospital, too, even if he still felt a little conflicted at having been put under sedation. But he decided not to think too much about it.

He made his way automatically through familiar halls towards his private quarters in the dead of night, with only the occasional soft lamp guiding his way. He wasn't paying much attention to his surroundings, instead thinking of all the visions he'd experienced during his sedation. It was the strangest thing having no memory of what had happened after they'd come back from Titan II, as his memory was something he'd always been able to rely on, even before Erskine's serum. Photographic, eidetic, whatever it was called, his memory and his quick analytical mind were the few assets he could honestly say had always been a part of him, despite his many other medical ailments from his youth. It was very troubling to realize his own mind had seemingly shut down and turned on him.

He wondered what exactly had happened that he wasn't making any sense and they'd decided to put him under sedation. God, how much of an ass had he made himself this time? He supposed he'd have to talk to someone in the morning and apologize for losing his mind so completely.

A quick, hot shower (really, scalding was the more appropriate word, the only way he'd take showers now since spending decades encased in ice) proved as a helpful start to feeling like himself again and putting some order in his thoughts once more. Steve put on a fresh t-shirt and an old pair of comfortable sweatpants, and was towel-drying his hair and realizing just how famished he was when he turned around and noticed Natasha had slipped into his room, quietly shutting the door behind her.

"You're awake." She simply stated, openly staring at him from across the room, yet her expression seemed strangely blank and he couldn't read her as he'd grown to do in the past few years.

"Yeah, sorry about that," he said sheepishly, throwing the towel on a side chair and instead running a hand through his still wet hair haphazardly. He had no doubt in his mind that when Bruce had said 'they' had had to sedate him Natasha had been involved and she was probably pissed at him now for whatever spectacle he'd caused.

Steve had been about to suggest that they go to the kitchen so he could fix himself something to eat while they talked and hopefully she'd explain what exactly had happened so that he could properly apologize when he noticed that she seemed to be stumbling (yes, stumbling) lightly on her feet towards him. "Nat? What are you…?" The words got lost somehow, as he frowned in concern, noticing how her eyes seemed glazed over as she stood in front of him.

"Shh. Don't think." She whispered and before he could realize what was happening she was pushing herself up on her tiptoes, her arms languidly snaking up his chest as her hands weaved gently through his hair at the nape of his neck, her lips coming up to kiss him.

He just froze. For a moment, he wondered if this was another dream or hallucination and if maybe he was still under the influence of sedatives lying somewhere in the hospital wing when his brain caught up to what was happening and he actually felt her breath on his lips. "Nat! You're drunk." He exclaimed, realization coming at once as he took a step back and used his hands to keep her away by the shoulders.

Her response to this was to let out a peal of laughter, using the momentum from his motion and twirling around once, still surprisingly nimble on her feet despite her earlier stumbling, turning back to him with a cheeky and somewhat dazzling grin. "Very observant, Captain Obvious."

Steve could only stare back at her, his mind utterly baffled at the scene unfolding right in front of him. He was realizing just how way out of his depth he was here, as he'd never had to deal with a drunk Natasha before. He wasn't even sure how that was possible. "How much did you have to drink?" He narrowed his eyes at her then, once he'd regained control of his voice.

"Not much, but Okoye sent this special wine from Wakanda." She said carelessly, crossing the room and picking up a bottle from his dresser, something she must've brought in with her. "It was T'Challa's special reserve and something fit for only the two of us now, apparently." Natasha explained, her voice taking on a sardonic note that was more reminiscent of her normal self. "She said it was a thank-you gift for all we've done to help them." She stopped abruptly and let out a short, humourless bark of laughter at this, swaying slightly on the spot before she focused back on him and proffered him the bottle. "You're welcome to drink some and catch up to me."

He refused, shaking his head a little and still frowning perplexedly back at her. "I don't think this is a good idea."

"Why not? I feel at the same time numb and inebriated for the first time since the Red Room and I plan on enjoying it to the fullest." She argued back lightheartedly, taking a swig directly from the bottle then holding it carelessly in one hand as she once more stepped into his personal space and smiled mischievously up at him, her free hand sliding teasingly along the waistband of his pants. "Come on. Join me, soldier."

"Nat, stop." Steve frowned rather angrily down at her, one hand taking the bottle from her and putting it away while the other blocked her advances on him by grabbing her wrist. "You don't wanna do this."

Her smile and apparently carefree attitude were instantly wiped away from her face, as she twisted her arm away from his grip, her whole body suddenly coiling as if poised for a fight. "Don't tell me what I want or not to do," Natasha hissed up at him, her eyes daring him into an argument.

His jaw tightened and twitched for a moment, wondering the best way to de-escalate this before they got in way over their heads. "Fine. Then I don't want this." He countered calmly but firmly.

For a moment it looked like she was about to maintain her aggressive stance, but just as suddenly as before her mood changed and she seemed to mellow out as a languid smile took over her lips once more. "You sure? Want me to change your mind?" She asked, coyly raising up an eyebrow as she looked up at him through her eyelashes, her eyes daring him now in an entirely different manner as her hands roamed enticingly over the thin t-shirt covering his chest. "I can be very persuasive. It's one of my many talents."

"Natasha." He hissed through gritted teeth, struggling to maintain his composure, but knowing he couldn't give in to her advances right now. Not like this, not when she was drunk out of her mind and this was just a desperate reaction as they were going through something so unbearably painful and traumatic. "Stop this." He once more held her away by the shoulders, shaking her slightly as if he could just snap her out of it somehow.

Suddenly all the fight just seemed to deflate out of her, the air coming out past her lips in a shuddering breath as her arms slackened and she just stared at the floor. "Please, Steve? Please?" The words came out in a mere whisper, then she turned up to look at him, tears pooling in her red-rimmed green eyes, gathering in her eyelashes and spilling over, tracing patterns down her face. "I don't want to feel like this anymore. I want to feel good again. I want to feel something else. I just… Please?"

Her voice broke at her pleading words and Steve could only stare back at her, feeling as if a part of him, his heart or his soul, something was breaking down with her, as before his very eyes something just seemed to shatter in her. Whatever resolve or strength had been holding her up and moving her along until now just collapsed and he felt helpless as he watched the tears falling down to the point where she was almost compulsively crying, all manner of self-control just completely lost in this moment.

Her legs quivered and seemed no longer able to hold up under the weight of her breakdown, and Steve moved in to support her, his arms enveloping her in a hug and kneeling down with her on the floor so that he was almost holding her up in his lap. "It's okay, Nat. I'm here." Holding her in his arms, almost as if he would try comforting a heartbroken child, Steve felt that was just about what he was able to do for now. He could only hold her, whispering soothing nothings by her ear, repeating it over and over until maybe at some point it would become true. "It's okay. It's okay."

A.N.: Please don't hate me. This is all building up to my headcanon of why Steve stopped fighting and how Nat stayed alone at the compound all those years. Really, it's all Endgame's fault, I'm just filling in the blanks here.

Also, a word of warning: I have NOT watched WandaVision or The Falcon and the Winter Soldier yet, so please no spoilers!