Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to update! It's been an interesting two weeks. Shortly after writing the last chapter, I lost a close friend from school and that jarred me. I then started school and getting used to new schedules is always difficult plus my job's responsibilities and our community mourning the loss of our friend. It's been disorienting but I finally found time to write and start putting things back into place. So this chapter does have some truth in how I reacted to the death of my friend and I distinctly remember the feeling of not wanting to get up and knowing I needed to be with people. Anyways, long story short, here's the next chapter! Hopefully I'll be able to update next sunday but no promises. Sorry I can't be more consistent but this is the life of a college student. I hope everyone is well! Thank you for all of the reviews and favorites/follows! They mean so much to me! Thanks and enjoy! :D

Steve woke up with an ache in his back and his face stuck to the table. He stayed like that, despite the twinges of pain, not wanting to move, not wanting to get up. He couldn't explain what he was feeling, there were no words to describe the emotions coursing through him. All he knew and felt was that Peggy was gone, never to smile again. A tear slipped from his eye and Steve closed them again. Images of last night played in his head and then slowly images from the war came into view as well. His first glimpse of Peggy punching the soldier after his inappropriate comments, her smirk when he brought the flag down, her cry to turn the machine off during his transformation, seeing her eyes widen as she looked at Steve after the transformation. He remembered their talk of "fondue" in Stark's plane, her shooting at his new shield, her voice cracking when he decided to put the plane down. Steve let the tears fall, knowing he shouldn't push the emotions away. A part of him wanted to forget that it had happened, that everything was normal. But that would be a lie and Steve liked being honest.

Steve lost track of time, lost in his memories until his phone buzzed. It was a message from Fury: I heard about Peggy. You have three days off. Steve scoffed and put the phone down. Thanks Fury, Steve thought sarcastically. The feelings of anger towards Fury and the helicarriers resurfaced, adding to the turmoil. I need to get up and move. I can't just sit here, Steve thought, suddenly agitated. He peeled himself off the table and slowly straightened his back. His cramped muscles cried in protest but he ignored the pain. It was nothing compared to the pain of losing Peggy. Peggy….Steve shook his head and walked to his room. He quickly changed and went straight to the gym. He didn't want to run, he needed to hit something. The sandbags lined up against the back wall were just what he needed. With every swing and jab of his fists, Steve expressed his anger, his frustration, his sadness. His anger at Fury for twisting S.H.I.E.L.D.'s vision. His frustration for being frozen so long, for missing so much. His sadness at the loss of a close friend and the eyes that he'd never see again. Steve went through seven sandbags before he realized his phone was buzzing. Steve picked it up and saw the call was from Charlie.

"Charlie?" Steve answered, slightly out of breath from hitting the sandbags.

"Steve? I've been trying to call you. Is everything alright? Are you hurt?" Charlie questioned. Steve heard noise behind her, which was odd because where she lived was pretty quiet.

"Yeah, just…working some stuff off," Steve replied vaguely.

"Oh okay, well I was wondering, where is your apartment?"

"Excuse me?"

"I guess I should say what number is your apartment because I found the building from the present you sent me but it doesn't say the apartment number so-"

"What are you talking about Charlie? Are you here in Washington D.C.?"

"Yes," Charlie answered softly, "I thought you could use a friend." Steve was stunned. Charlie was here? In Washington D.C.? For him? He felt tears prick his eyes again but he beat them back.

"I didn't think you'd want to be alone so I thought I would come visit but I mean if I'm intruding then-"

"Charlie, don't move. I'll be right there."

"Okay." Steve picked up his bag and ran out of the gym. As he rounded the corner to his apartment building, Steve stopped. His mind couldn't comprehend the sight in front of him. Charlie stood by his apartment door in jeans and a loose shirt. Her hair was tied in a high ponytail that would swing as she looked around. She held a duffel bag in her hands and a purse around her shoulder. She looked his way and saw him standing there, staring, and set her bags down. She started walking towards him and before he knew it, Charlie had wrapped her arms around his neck, embracing him. She didn't say anything, no greeting, no "I'm sorry," just hugged him.

"I-I'm all sweaty," was all Steve could say, taken aback.

"I don't care," Charlie mumbled. Steve felt her arms loosen, as if to pull away but Steve didn't want that. Suddenly, he ached to be held, to hold someone, to be touched. Steve wrapped his arms around Charlie and buried his face into her shoulder. Charlie's arms tightened around him, pulling him closer, holding him tighter. Steve couldn't believe she was here, for him. He breathed in her scent, orange and vanilla. She felt like home, like a friend and he needed someone desperately. He hadn't realized until now but he needed to be around people. Otherwise…Steve didn't want to know what would happen. He vaguely remembered how he tried to get drunk when Bucky died. He didn't think Peggy would appreciate that. Steve and Charlie eventually pulled away. Charlie's face was full of sympathy but not pity.

"Come on, I'll show you the apartment," Steve said. He picked up her bag and she followed him up the stairs. As Steve opened the door, he vaguely worried if his apartment was a mess. If it was, Charlie didn't say anything. She took her bag from Steve and pointed to his room.

"Go take a shower and I'll have tea ready for you when you come out," Charlie said. Steve didn't have the energy to argue so he did as he was told. Steve closed the door to his room, stepped out his clothes, and turned the shower on. The warm water cascaded around him, washing away the sweat and tears. Steve felt some of the tension leave his body but slowly replacing it was the hollowness of Peggy's death. Steve couldn't describe the feeling, there wasn't a word to describe what he felt. It was sorrow and pain and loneliness and unbelief and emptiness. Those were parts of what he was feeling but Steve didn't know any word that could describe all of it. He didn't want to move. He just wanted to stay under the water and think about his memories of Peggy. Not even that, his memories were painful and he didn't really want to think of the way Peggy smiled or how she looked with that red dress on or the way it felt to dance with her. Steve just didn't want to move. He didn't have the motivation, the desire to leave his position. Steve closed his eyes and focused on the way the warm water relaxed his muscles, the way it felt against his eyes.

Somehow from somewhere, Steve found the energy to finish his shower. He dried himself, found new clothes, and stepped out of his room. He frowned when he didn't see Charlie right away. Had he imagined her? No, he saw a steaming mug on the table, waiting for him. Steve stepped into his kitchen, searching for Charlie. He found her by the window, looking at the street with a mug in her hand.

"Hey," Steve greeted, hands in his pockets. Charlie turned and smiled slightly.

"Hey," she replied. Charlie walked back to the table and Steve joined her.

"So, you're in Washington D.C." Steve attempted, not quite sure what to say so he stated the obvious. Charlie nodded, sipping her tea.

"Yes. After my phone died, I went and bought a plane ticket. Nattie drove me to the airport and here I am," Charlie explained.

"Do you have somewhere to stay? You're welcome to stay here if you need," the offer rolled off of Steve's tongue without him really thinking about what he was saying. Charlie looked at Steve and held his gaze.

"Do you want me to stay?" she asked quietly. Steve exhaled and looked at his hands.

"Is it incredibly selfish for me to ask?"

"I think you deserve a little bit of selfishness now and then."

"I just-I'm not sure if I should be alone. I don't know where I would go if I was alone," Steve admitted quietly. Steve couldn't explain it but he knew, deep down, if he were alone it wouldn't be good. It wasn't like he wanted to die or thought that he would take his own life but he knew he needed people to support him. He needed people around to keep the darkness at bay. Charlie reached over the table and gripped his hand. He looked up into her kind eyes, her hand warm.

"I'm here for you," Charlie said. Four words and that's all Steve needed. Steve nodded, tears coming to his eyes and gripped Charlie's hand. They sat in silence for a while, reveling in each other's company. Steve didn't need words, he just needed someone's presence with him.

"So," Charlie broke the silence, "What happened?" Steve took a deep breath and rubbed his face. Charlie sipped her tea, reminding Steve he had some too. The mug was warm against Steve's hands as he tried to make his voice work.

"Well it started off normal, had my early morning run, met someone new. I got a mission and it didn't go as planned. Separate missions again but this time with steeper consequences. I went to the director and…he showed me something I wish I hadn't seen," Steve began. Charlie scrunched her eyebrows in confusion and worry. Steve didn't want to tell her too much, he knew Project Insight was a secret. The more knowledge she knew, the more danger he potentially put her in.

"I think S.H.I.E.L.D. has tainted the vision it began with and I'm not sure I like where they're going. But, I've made a commitment so I'll stick with it until I can no longer support their vision. Anyways, I was upset so I went to the Smithsonian, which was a bad idea, then I went to see Peggy, hoping for…I don't know, a reminder of why I was doing this. I talked to her for a while about S.H.I.E.L.D., my old team, and other things on my mind. She forgot four times which-which I guess should have been a sign because that's the most she's ever forgotten while I was there," Steve's voice began to thicken and his eyes burned with unfallen tears. Charlie didn't say anything but waited for Steve to continue. Steve cleared his throat and took a deep breath.

"I went to a little café to try and-and clear my head. Margret texted me a little while later saying that-that she, Peggy, remembered me. And I thought-I thought there was hope, that maybe-maybe-" Steve choked, tears falling down his face. Charlie gripped his hand again, rubbing her thumb against his wrist. Steve cried, unashamed to show his pain in front of Charlie. He couldn't explain it but he felt close to her, safe with her. Steve rubbed his eyes and took a shuddering breath.

"I thought-thought there was hope but then Margret called me, sobbing, and she said-" Steve couldn't find his voice. He cleared his throat. Once. Twice. Three times.

"She said that Peggy was dying and that she was asking for me. I raced over there and-and Margret was a mess, Robert and Samantha were crying. Peggy looked..peaceful. A nurse brought in a record player and…and…and we danced," Steve's voice cracked again and he had to stop. Recounting the events in his head was different than speaking them out loud. Speaking them out loud made it permanent, real. Steve wiped his face again and took deep breaths. The pain and emotion were powerful. They would have crippled Steve except for the fact that Charlie still held his hand. She grounded him, made him remember that he wasn't alone. You are not alone, Peggy's words echoed in Steve's mind.

"Peggy started dying in my arms but Margret was able to hear her last words. After that it's kind of a blur. I remember crying and pain. I drove Margret and the kids home, somehow found my way home, and called you," Steve ended, finally looking up. Charlie's eyes were brimming with tears and she squeezed his hand.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," Charlie hiccupped, her tears finally falling. Seeing Charlie cry made Steve cry, more than he already was. Steve nodded trying to fight back the onslaught of renewed tears and emotions but failing miserably. They sat together, crying, sharing the pain of loss. At some point, Charlie wrapped her arms around Steve, holding him as he sobbed. Steve didn't know how long he cried or stayed in Charlie's embrace but eventually they pulled away. Before either of them could say a word, Steve's stomach rumbled loudly. Charlie laughed, wiping her eyes.

"I think it's time we get some food for you," Charlie smiled. Steve chuckled and nodded, his voice not wanting to work. Charlie went to the kitchen and started rummaging around. Steve watched her, trying to control his emotions, his voice. He opened his mouth to say something but Charlie beat him to it.

"Don't say sorry Steve," Charlie said, turning to him, "It's okay to cry." Steve blinked, stunned that she knew what he was going to say.

"How did you know what I was going to say?"

"Because its what I would have done. I'm a hypocrite." Steve raised an eyebrow in question and Charlie fidgeted under his gaze.

"I don't like it when people see me as the broken, abused child and I convinced myself along the way that crying was a weakness. So I don't cry in front of people, not usually. Wanting to be strong for my brothers solidified my idea and yeah, it's stayed. But I know it's healthy and I want to break the habit but I usually fail," Charlie sighed.

"That makes since. But, something my mother always told me was that crying may be a physical weakness but it was a spiritual strength. It shows you care about something enough to incapacitate you for a while," Steve recalled. He had always come home sniffling with tears running down his face and a bloody lip. That was the advice his mother always gave when he cried. Steve looked up to find Charlie staring at him.

"Does that not help?" Steve asked, suddenly uncertain.

"No, it-it makes complete since," Charlie said. She gave a breathy laugh and rubbed her arm.

"You just completely changed my view on crying that's all."

"Glad to be of service, ma'am." Charlie giggled at the term and went back to the stove. The smell of eggs wafted towards him, enveloping him in a feeling of home. Charlie turned on the radio to an oldies station and for the rest of the day, they just talked. Sometimes when Peggy was brought up, Steve would cry again, unable to hold back the pain. In those moments, Charlie didn't pat his back or give him a tissue so he would stop. She sat with him, sometimes hold him as he let out his pain. She understood that pain this powerful and heartbreaking should not be contained. It needed to be expressed, not only for the person hurting but for the sake of the person that left. Pain told you that this person was important and will never be forgotten.