Welcome to Chapter Thirteen – and jeez it's been a while since I've updated this, huh? Bit angsty this one-shot, but I wanted to explore one of the darker points of Steve's life. I hope I didn't do too bad with it.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

"I'm With You till The End of The Line"

December 1936

Steve Rogers was sprawled across his sofa, arm draped over his eyes.

The apartment was cold…but Steve didn't have the means to heat it, nor did he have the energy to get up and grab a blanket either.

Didn't matter anyway…it was just him living here. His mother had died two months ago now…and despite his friends' requests and offers, Steve just didn't want any help.

He could get by on his own, he knew he could…it's just sometimes moments like this happened. He just didn't care about anyone or anything…

What do they know, anyway? Steve thought bitterly.

The Howlett family lived a comfortable lifestyle, in a three-bedroom apartment that was well insulated and had a reliable heater in the wintertime…not that they really needed it, although Logan always bundled up a little bit more when the temperature dropped. The three of them together – father, brother, sister…crazy uncle that always wore gloves on occasion.

The Barnes family wasn't quite as well off as the Howletts – although they managed to get by with what they had in their nice three-bedroom apartment that got a little chilly now and then but had a functioning heater…the four of them, a mother, a father, sister, brother…

What did Steve have? A cold apartment and no parents, no siblings…Steve was alone.

Eighteen years old and alone.

He didn't even have a significant other, which usually didn't bother him – most girls don't like spending time with a guy they could step on anyway – but when all your friends had a date on a Friday night and you were sitting alone in your apartment in the middle of winter, it really could get on a guy's nerves.

Steve looked over at his discarded sketchpad. It was filled with half-completed sketches of his mother and his friends; he'd been working on one of Case when he'd thought 'to hell with it' and threw everything aside.

Some friends, Steve scowled into the emptiness.

In his rational mind, Steve knew he had nobody to blame but himself. He'd told his friends to stay away, and clearly, they were giving him the space he'd said he'd needed.

However, in this depressed state of mind Steve had going all those thoughts got twisted into something else…currently Steve was feeling abandoned, alone, and unloved.

The room was slowly getting darker as the sun went down, and the temperature dropped even lower.

Steve gave a sigh and tried to relax a little more into the sofa cushions. He was exhausted and could barely keep his eyes open.

It didn't take much for him to drift off to sleep, hoping things might look better in the morning.

Steve woke to the sound of a hacking cough.

No, not just the sound – it took him a moment to realize the hacking was coming from his own feeble lungs, and he was practically cocooned in every blanket he owned.

A glass of water suddenly appeared in front of him, and Steve managed to work a hand free to take it as the coughing fit eased, and he sipped the water to soothe his parched throat.

"Thanks," He whispered.

"Uh-huh," Case said, before resuming what Steve assumed was the seat she'd been in, it was at his bedside and pointed directly at him. He noticed she was wearing a black colored sweater, a light blue scarf he remembered she'd knitted herself, and tan, wide-legged snow pants. She crossed her legs and folded her arms as she said, "Well?"

"Well what?" Steve asked, and once the glass was empty, he put it on the nightstand.

Case's jaw clenched, and she said in an eerily calm voice, "For starters…how 'bout starting with why the hell I just had to drag you into your bed…not to mention you were shaking like a leaf because you were so cold."

"I was comfortable on the couch."

"Right…that's why you've described sleeping on it in the past like sleeping on rocks."

Steve shrugged, though it wasn't very visible under the blankets, and mumbled, "Still…"

"Okay," Case's mouth turned into a thin line, "How about answering the questions as to why your apartment is like an ice-box, and you decided the best way to lounge around the apartment was in a t-shirt?"

"This place never got very warm in the wintertime, you know that," Steve said, huddling in his blanket cocoon.

"That's…that's all you can say?"

"What else do you want me to say?"

"An explanation would be nice," Case snapped. "You know…for why you're pushing the rest of us away? For why you're being a recluse in your home instead of interacting with the living? Why I found you freezing and hacking in a cold apartment alone?"

Steve's gaze dropped to the blankets, "Case, I can get by on my own."

Case blinked, "Clearly."

"Don't you have an elsewhere to be?"

"Yes…I came here because I haven't seen you in over a week and I had planned on asking you to the movies," Case snapped.

"You…were?"

"Yeah," Case nodded. "Then it started snowing."

"It's what?" Steve sat up and turned toward his bedroom window. He could see the flakes drifting down from the sky and collecting on the windowsill. "Oh…so it is."

"Which means any minute now Bucky and Ryder are going to be beating down your door making sure you're alright," Case said, folding her arms.

"They don't…" Steve began, then started coughing again.

"Sure, they don't need to," Case told him. "But they're going to anyway, because we're your friends." As the coughing fit eased, her mouth quirked up in a small smile, "And they're gonna be pissed when they see this."

"They can't see me like this!" Steve said, trying unsuccessfully to break free of the cocoon.

"They've seen worse," Case pointed out.

"Yeah…but after all this?" Steve asked. "Do you know how they'll react?"

Case's face split into a million-dollar smile, "I'm just sad I don't have any popcorn."

"You're evil, you know that?"

"I may be evil but you're an idiot," Case pointed out. Her smile faded, "In all seriousness though…she wouldn't want you doing this to yourself…she'd want you to be happy."

"Don't…" Steve began, opting to grab the edges he'd loosened and wrap them tighter around himself. "You…you don't…"

"I don't know anything?" Case asked.

Steve didn't look at her, he just focused on the blankets.

"Steve, losing her felt like losing my own—"

"But she wasn't yours!" Steve shouted at her. Case's cheeks turned red and her mouth snapped shut as Steve continued, "She wasn't your mother she was mine! She was mine and now she's…" Tears filled his eyes suddenly, and he whispered, "I need her."

Warm arms wrapped around him, and Steve buried his face in Case's chest. She rested her cheek against his head, and leaned back against the headboard, hugging him tightly as he cried.

When he started coughing again, Case started rubbing his back, "I lost my real mom when I was five."

"I know Case," Steve mumbled nasally into her shirt.

"I stayed awake at night, waiting for her to come back," Case added in a quiet tone. "She wasn't there when I needed to learn how to do pin-curls, needed to learn how to do my makeup…" he heard her sniffle, but wasn't ready to look her in the eye. "Besides Winnie, Sarah was the closest I've ever come to actually having a mother…I know she wasn't really mine but…"

"I'm sorry Case, I shouldn't have said that," Steve sniffled.

"Yeah well…considering all that's happened, I'll let it pass," Case said with a chuckle. She continued rubbing her hand up and down his back, "You doing better?"

"Yeah I guess…" Steve admitted. "I just felt so…alone."

"Sorry about that…we just didn't want to push," Case said. "Although…you had another week before we started really stepping in."

"Another week? Then why did you come tonight?"

"I was bored…and I missed you," Case said sheepishly. "Haven't seen you in a week…outside of illness that's the longest we've been apart since we met."

"Even though every time you've come by, I told you to get lost?"

"You just lost your mother Steve…what kinda friend would I be if I held that against you?"

"A truly justified friend," Steve said with a yawn.

"Nah," Case said, cocking her head at him, "You're still tired, aren't you?"

Steve just gave a slow nod, just focusing on the rise and fall of her chest, "You're really warm."

"Compared to your apartment here and the fact you usually run really cold, I'll bet I am in comparison," Case said, taking off the scarf and wrapping it around Steve's neck, "Come on, lay down and get comfortable."

Steve did as she said, wrapping his arms around her waist and nuzzling into her stomach, "Thanks…"

Case adjusted the blankets, so they covered more of Steve. She started rubbing his back again as she said, "Don't worry about it, Stevie."

"Still…" Steve yawned, closing his eyes again and just relaxing into her, "I'm sure you've got better things to do on a Friday night."

"Better things to do than make sure my friend is safe and breathing? No way," Case told him. "It's like Bucky always says…"

Steve just gave a hum as a response.

"Get some rest Stevie," Case gave a quiet chuckle, "Because we're with you to the end of the line."