Emily knew when they left - Natasha and Sam first, and Carter nearly half an hour later - because they all looked at her before walking away.

She wasn't sure if she was happy or angry that Steve hadn't come to find her.

On one hand, she wasn't sure she wanted to talk to him right then. He was at the center of all of her current problems - his being alive, having been chosen to participate in Operation: Rebirth, had maneuvered her into a position to be sent back in time or into an alternate timeline or whatever, where she'd met her Opa and experience a war where she'd nearly been attacked and nearly killed. He and his new team had put her family at risk by releasing classified files detailing their history and their connection to Abraham Erskine. The fact that he was now a known Avenger put her career in jeopardy.

On the other hand, she wanted the constant reassurance that he was alive and well. For a month, she'd mourned his loss even with the knowledge that they'd see each other again. Emily had felt like her heart had been torn out when they'd come to tell her that Steve was missing in action. She'd tried not to think about him in pain and scared as the Valkyrie sank, as the cold water pulled him down. As the serum slowed his heart and protected his vital organs, allowing him to sleep the decades away undisturbed and forgotten.

For nearly two years, she'd missed the broken and confused man who had pushed everyone away when he opened his eyes to a new century. Who had slowly come to accept his new reality and all that came with it. She'd missed the man who had faced down his demons and challenged her to do the same. Who had slowly chipped away at the walls she'd built around herself for protection and made her realize that there was life after loss.

Who apparently had given up in a fight for his life.

Emily hated and missed her husband at that moment.

Her eyes grew heavy as she stared unseeing out the window. At some point it started to rain, so she moved closer, propping her chin in her hand as she curled in one of the chairs, her eyes tracing the path water droplets took as they slid across the glass.

OOO

A heavy weight lay across Em's waist and a hand cupped her breast, holding her against the solid warmth at her back. Her right ankle was pinned between the mattress and another weight, and she could feel soft breathing against her neck.

Emily made herself stay still, keep her body loose and languid as she fought against waking up. Just a few more minutes to hold onto Steve being with her. To soak in the comfort and security of him wrapped around her. He shifted, his hips pushing against hers and she felt his erection firmly pressed against her ass. A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth - she'd missed that too.

She focused on his breathing, her own slowing to match his stuttering rhythm. Which was why, when he took a deeper, grunting breath and shifted, she knew that her time was running out - he would wake up and disappear. Her heart started to beat faster and she pushed back into him, wanting to feel him for as long as possible.

"Donne start somethin' we can't finish," he mumbled, pressing his groin against her and lightly squeezing her breast. She chuckled and shimmied her hips, drawing a groan that rumbled against her back.

"You started it." There was shifting behind her and then her hair was pulled away from her neck. She felt the rasp of his stubble against her shoulder as he leaned forward to press a kiss to her throat.

"God, I missed you," Steve whispered against the hinge of her jaw, his teeth gently scraping against the soft skin. Em reached back to touch him and he caught her hand, pressing it to his cheek so he could kiss her palm and gently tugged her so she lay on her back. He chuckled when he saw her eyes were closed. "Still sleeping?"

"Still dreaming." She felt the bed shifted again. His fingers lightly drifted across her forehead then cupped her cheek, gently turned her face towards his. His thumb traced her lower lip before his hand shifted to rest below her ear and his lips brushed hers. She tilted her chin up and parted her lips. She heard his huffed laugh before he kissed her again, soft and comforting.

Em rolled onto her side and curled her leg over his as the lazy kisses deepened. Steve's hand drifted down her body and rested on her ass for a moment before wrapping around her thigh and bringing it up to rest on his waist. His hips rocked against hers and she gripped his arm, letting out a shaky breath. "Still not gonna open your eyes, Sweetheart?" he said, his breath ghosting across her face.

After a moment's hesitation, Emily took a deep breath and slowly opening her eyes to see Steve's blue eyes boring into hers. The beginnings of a beard covered his cheek, and his shorter hair was sticking up from sleep with a slightly greasy shean. Black stitches still marred his face. "Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"Is this…" she sucked in a breath and blinked away the tears gathering in her eyes. "This is real, right?" Concern flashed in his eyes as a sad smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"I hope so. 'Cause otherwise I'm dreaming about having you back too."

"How did I get in here?"

His hand flexed on her thigh as he blew out a breath. "One of the guards. Said you fell asleep in the waiting room and wouldn't wake you up so he carried you in. Scared the hell out of me, Sweetheart." He sighed and leaned forward to rest his forehead against hers while his hand moved up her leg and slipped under her shirt to rest on her lower back. "Emily… are you alright?"

After a long moment, she shook her head. She felt him tense but couldn't bring herself to regret her honesty. As the silence stretched on, she tried to pull away but Steve held her tightly. When he kissed her forehead, she had to squeeze her eyes closed against the tears that gathered in her eyes.

"What happened? When you disapp - "

"Knock knock!" the door slowly opened and a nurse peeked in. Steve hold loosened and he frowned as Emily jolted away from him and out of bed. "Just coming to see how you were feeling this morning, Captain Rogers."

"I'm okay," he sighed, watching his girl swipe at her eyes as she gave the approaching nurse a bright, fake smile. The woman smiled back as she snapped on a pair of gloves.

"Just need to check your bandages and stitches before Dr. Spires gets here. She said if everything's checking out today we might be able to get your discharged. Would you mind taking off your gown?"

"Good. It'd be nice to get home," he replied, eyes still on Em.

"I'm going to go check on Carter," she said, glancing at Steve as he slid the hospital gown off of his arms to reveal the dark bruises on his chest and sides, and a large white bandage on his stomach. He looked like he wanted to say something but refrained as the woman gently removed the tape. Em looked away and quickly stepped into the hall.

OOO

Carter were discharged at two in the afternoon while Steve's paperwork was processed at six o'clock that evening. Both men were under strict orders to rest and take it easy, though neither planned on following those.

In the whirl of people, Em had been able to avoid continuing their earlier conversation. Sharon had popped up at one point, sporting a bandage on her forearm. When she'd started to discuss the aftermath of SHIELD's fall, Em excused herself - her head was already pounding and listening to the details of how deeply entrenched Hydra had been in the organization wouldn't help that.

With the uniform in tatters, she had gone down to the gift shop to find something for Steve to wear and managed to pick up a pair of men's lounge pants, some boxer briefs, and a pack of white t-shirts. Their shoe option was rather limited so, rather than donning the fuzzy grey slippers she'd picked up, Steve had slipped on the still damp boots.

"You realize these are stolen property," she said as she knelt in front of him to help lace them up; he'd grimaced at the pull of muscles when he'd bent down to do it.

"I borrowed them. And I'm not sure your boss is going to want them back," he shrugged.

"You clearly don't understand the historical value. The boots are worth more now than when you stole them."

"Borrowed." When Em stood, he placed his hands on her hips and drew her close. "Hey - we're going to talk, alright? Somewhere quiet, just the two of us. About everything."

"Looking forward to it." The corner of Steve's mouth twitched and she knew that he didn't believe her for a second.

"As soon as the meeting's done, we'll go home."

"You don't think…" Emily paused and bit her lower lip.

"What?"

"You don't want to stay and look for him?

Steve sighed and dropped his head to Em's chest. She crossed her arms over his shoulders and ran her hands through the short hairs on the back of his neck. After a moment, he spoke again. "I don't think he'd stay here. Too many Hydra are gonna to be looking for him. He's going to be in the wind."

"Are you sure? Maybe he's hurt and hiding out here for a little while."

"He wasn't. Hurt. Last time I saw him."

"On the helicarrier." He nodded. Her eyes darted over to rest on his shield where it was propped against the wall. She had to push down a sudden flash of anger at the memory of Sam telling her what he'd heard over the comms, of hearing that Steve had stopped fighting, and struggled to school her expression. After a long moment, Em cleared her throat. "Babe… you don't think he's...he wouldn't have gone back to them, would he?"

"No." His voice was harsh as he pulled away from her. "He wouldn't go back to the people that tortured him. He knew me - I know it. Right before… he pulled me out." Em didn't say anything, just met his angry gaze until he looked away. "He wouldn't. Not willingly. Unless…" A dark smile twisted on his lips.

"Unless?"

Steve's eyes were hard when they met hers. "Unless he was going after them. And they'd deserve everything they got."

OOO

Unable to return to Steve's apartment on Dupont Circle, the FBI agents assigned to his detail drove them to Tony's penthouse and stationed themselves outside. Em managed to convince one of the agents to take her to the store where she picked up enough food for a few meals and some additional clothes and shoes for Steve.

Sharon joined them for dinner after ducking out for a few hours, only to return with a Steve's go bag. After, the three former SHIELD operatives sat around the table discussing what to do next. Emily excused herself and retreated to the bedroom.

Alone for the first time in days, Em let herself collapse onto the bed and simply stared at the ceiling. She tried to force her brain to be quiet but errant thoughts kept drifting in. What was going to happen now that SHIELD had fallen? What was Steve's meeting tomorrow about? When should she schedule her work meeting? Did she need to reach out to the Smithsonian and disclose her relationship to Steve? How was Howard handling her disappearance? How would they explain her absence to Mrs. Roosevelt and the press corp?

How could he have given up?

Groaning, she reached for her phone and headphones. One of her playlists with heavy bass and drums would hopefully drown out the noise in her head. But when she picked up the phone all she could see were the red notification bubbles across the screen. Her finger hovered over the text messages before clicking it and scrolling through the unread list. The message previews showed friends reaching out to see if they'd recognized Steve on TV. Kris, her best friend, had sent a few, asking for her to call.

Ryan had sent over twenty texts saying he'd gone to meet her for lunch and saw her office. The messages had gotten progressively more panicked before the last one, which simply stated, 'Does this have anything to do with what you told me about Steve?'. Em thought back to that day so long ago in the diner when she'd opened up about what it meant to be with Steve, and how she sometimes got put into the line of fire. Ugh. She would need to reach out to him at some point though she wasn't sure what to say. After his reaction to her injuries after the attack in Arlington, she could only imagine how he would take this.

Jessica's texts broke her heart. Her seventeen year old niece had demanded she call. She wanted to know why a man who looked like Steve was on her TV. They'd promised each other honesty since she was little - why was her aunt lying to her? Why didn't she trust her? The accusatory tone continued when she said she knew exactly who Steve was because she overheard her parents talking.

When she opened her family's group text, she nearly cried. It started with a question about how long it had been since anyone had heard from her after Caroline had gotten a call from ESU asking for her to return a call. The chain was flooded with concern for her and questions about why Steve wasn't answering before Matthew chimed in and said he'd gotten ahold of Carter and that they needed to set up a family call for that night. The next few were just asking for updates with a reply of nothing yet.

The activity picked up again a little while later. Tuck said that he and Lauren were getting a lot of questions from the kids who had seen Steve on the news and wanted to know if he was Captain America. The boys were confused - was Captain America a bad guy because he was arrested? They were wondering how much to tell them. Lauren chimed in that Jessica was pestering her for more information and frustrated that Em wasn't answering her calls or texts. Caroline had written back that it was probably best to wait until they knew what was going on - no need to confuse youngest ones more than they already were. The texts flew back and forth when the helicarriers had been in the air - was Steve there, what did it mean, why hadn't there been an update from Emily?

Her dad had sent a message saying she'd called her parents to say let them know she was safe and that she was still trying to find Steve. Later, that she was at the hospital with him and would call when she got a chance.

Tears gathered in her eyes as Em's thumbs hovered over the keyboard, debating sending a message to let them know she was alright and that they were headed home tomorrow. But she knew that Tucker would call and, as much as she loved her older brother, she wasn't quite ready to have that conversation yet. Instead, she locked the phone and dropped it on the bed beside her. She looked at the balcony and wished that she could step outside for a cigarette, but Steve had asked her to stay inside rather than risk the exposure even though they were in the penthouse suite. After all, Steve has said with a pained look, Hydra managed to get Fury in his apartment.

Anxiety choked her and her heart started to race as a thought struck - was it always going to be like this? Was this her new normal - having to look over her shoulder for a threat around every corner? It had been one thing to be known as Captain America's wife in London, where German spies dotted the populace but were limited by their technology and she was a relative nobody professionally. It was another to be known as Captain America's wife in the 21st century where people could easily track her and she'd already made a name for herself in certain parts of the population.

Emily's thumb moved to rub the empty space on her ring finger - girlfriend, not wife.

She has met Steve at SHIELD, had seen him unconscious and recovering from the crash. They'd gotten off to a bumpy start between her wanting to help and his stubborn refusal to accept it but they'd slowly developed a friendship with the aid of alcohol and a pushy therapist. She'd realized she had feelings for him in the New Mexico desert but an attack made Steve push her away until she'd done the same, first with her apartment and then going across the country without him. But when they were happy together, her past and then Loki and Steve's hero complex drove them apart again until they decided that they were happier together and damn the rest of the world.

She hadn't met Steve at the Stark Expo and again later in a Brooklyn base after her grandfather had taken what he believed to be the first step on the path to peace. She wasn't there, hadn't seen her grandfather murdered in front of her eyes, hadn't felt his blood cool on her hands as Steve chased down his killer. They hadn't grown closer over days in DC, letters exchanged as he because a film star and crisscrossed the US while she worked with Howard, and stolen moments in Chicago.

They hadn't fallen in love in London and gotten married on an October morning before stealing away to the countryside for their honeymoon, spending a few precious days together before everything fell apart.

Steve had dropped the shield and stopped fighting to get back to her.

Emily clapped a shaking hand to her mouth and jack knifed off the bed before rushing to the bathroom. As soon as the door was closed, she fell to her knees in front of the toilet and retched as quietly as possible. Her ears rang as she fought back the black spots dancing at the corner of her vision. After flushing away the mess, she crawled to the shower stall and pulled the glass door open. Em blindly slapped for the handle and gasped when the cold water rained down on her, helping her cling to consciousness. She tilted her head back and rinsed her mouth before laying on the floor and closing her eyes, the water pasting her the flannel shirt to her skin and soaking into her jeans.

There was a soft knocking on the door a few minutes later. "Emily? You alright?"

"F-fine," she said though chattering teeth. There was silence and a moment later she felt someone standing over her. She slowly opened her eyes to see Steve, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. He let out a deep breath before reaching for the back of his shirt and pulling it off. "I'm fine," she repeated, pushing herself up to lean against the marble wall. She dropped her head into her hands, covering her face as he pushed down his pants and briefs. "J-just need a m-minute."

"Jesus," he grunted when he stepped into the cold stream. He adjusted the temperature before joining her on the floor. She tried to push away his hands as he unbuttoned her shirt and pushed it off her shoulders before unsnapping her bra. After tossing those into the corner, he wrapped his hands around her elbows and pulled her to her feet, propping her against the wall before he started to work on her belt buck. After undoing the button and zipper of her jeans, he was surprised to find that she wasn't wearing any underwear as he pulled the wet material down her legs. Her hands gripped his shoulders when lifted her feet, and Steve had to fight the urge to guide one of her legs over his shoulder and press her hips back against the wall to steal a taste of her.

Instead, he threw the jeans into the corner and let his eyes roam across Emily's body for a moment, his eyes lingering on her stomach and breasts, before wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her down to sit in front of him, her knees drawn up to her chest. Steve sighed and sat beside her, his shoulder touching hers. He didn't say anything but reached across her and wrapped a hand around her knees, pulling her legs over his lap and wrapping his arms around her tightly. Em felt him press a kiss to her forehead before tucking her head under his chin. Unable to hold back her tears any longer, she rested her hand over his heart, seeking out the comfort of its steady beating.

"Sweetheart?" he said after her sobbing had dissolved into sniffles. "What happened to you?" When she didn't answer, he squeezed her shoulder. "I can't fix it if I don't know what's wrong?"

"You can't fix it," she said thickly. "I don't want to talk about it, Steve."

He was quiet for another minute before he cleared his throat. "It's been about a week since I've seen you. That's not enough time for your hair to have grown this much," he said, twirling a strand between his fingers. When she didn't say anything, he continued. "Even if you took off your ankle brace, you would still have a limp at least. And those bruises on your hips wouldn't have had time to fade, not with how big they were. And you're smaller… thinner."

Em tried to push away from him, but Steve held fast. "But this… this is what's confusing me the most," he said, taking her left hand from where it was trapped between them and holding it up. His thumb traced the top of her ring finger. "You have an indent here that you didn't have before. At least not on this finger." He paused and took a stuttering breath. "It's the same one you have on your right hand when you take off your claddagh ring." She could see the confusion and hurt in his eyes when they met hers, "But I've had your engagement ring the whole time, and this would have taken longer than a week. Whatever happened was longer than four days for you. And you were wearing someone else's ring here."

Her breath caught and she froze, unable to think of some way to explain it away.

"I wasn't," she breathed. "I wouldn't." He raised an eyebrow, trying to get her to say more but she stayed silent. Her eyes dropped to her hand in his before pulling it away and placing it on his shoulder. She tried to push herself out of his lap again but he held her tightly, unwilling to add physical space to the distance that stretched between them.

Eventually, Steve blew out a breath and reached up to turn off the shower. They sat in silence, watching as the last of the water swirl down the drain before he wiped a strand of hair out of her face and softly said, "Let's get you dried off."

She watched him as he shifted out from under her and stood, frowning down at the sodden bandage that had pulled away from his skin. He pulled it off and tossed it into the corner before turning to face her. Emily's eyes were locked on the black line of stitches that stretched from his sternum to belly button, surrounded by dark bruises that spanned his torso. She let out a shaky breath when Steve cleared his throat and reached out a hand to her. "'S temporary, Sweetheart. Few days and I'll be back to normal." Ignoring his help, she pushed up onto her knees and wrapped her hands around his legs. His cock twitched with interest when she shuffled closer and slowly moved her hands up. Her assent stopped when her fingers brushed the divot of a mostly healed bullet wound on the back of his left thigh. Her lower lip wobbled as she breathed a sigh and rested her head on his hip. "Emily?

"I'm so angry at you. You almost died. Again," she whispered. Steve swallowed against the lump in his throat. Her breath was cool against his skin when she huffed and shook her head. "A month ago I lost you to the Arctic. And then I get back to almost lost you to the Potomac because you stopped fighting...stopped trying."

Only his locked knees and a hand on the wall kept Steve on his feet. The movement jostled Em and she lifted her head to look up at him. She bit her lower lip when she saw his shocked expression; she rocked back on to her feet and stood. When she swayed, he quickly steadied her, his eyes darting across her face. "I didn't...I..."

"You did. Sam told me. He heard everything."

"Sweetheart...I...it was Buck… wha..." When she reached to push the door open, Steve caught her hand. "You can't just… a month? The Arctic… for you… it was..."

"Nearly two years."

Steve's face fell and tears shone in his eyes. "Emily…"

He watched as she stepped out of the shower and wrapped a towel around herself before retreating to the dark bedroom.

Author's Note: I don't know who to feel sorrier for in this chapter - Emily for coming back and dealing with the fallout of her being gone and knowing that Steve stopped fighting to get back to her, or Steve for struggling to handle finding out his best friend is still alive while trying to figure out what happened to his girlfriend. Ah, the joy of wrestling with the idea of what happens when a normal person dates a superhero.

Also - a few people asked if I was planning on taking this story up to Endgame. My answer? Do you really think I'd leave all that potential angst laying out there? Not going to be going through the movies as closely as I did with this, but absolutely. I mean, I'm looking forward to delving into how do you have a relationship with someone whose considered a war criminal by most of the world governments.

Anyways - thank you for reading, and let me know what you think!