A/N: I'm a slacker. I know. I don't have any excuse as to why I haven't been on in so long. I've just been lazy. To be honest, I actually forgot to check for a while. I'm so sorry. :(

It's been ages since I've watched Captain America. I'm sorry if I've gotten anything messed up. I have a habit of making stuff up when I'm writing. So if there's something that doesn't happen, or doesn't seem like it would ever happen, I'm sorry. I'm really not good at this. XD

WARNINGS: None for this chapter, actually. :)

Thanks to Ecotiger for being my awesome beta. :D

My name is Steven Rogers

My name is Steven Rogers. I've been called many things in my life. Runt. Loser. Pathetic. The list can go on forever. I've been called some good things, too. Like captain. Hero. Friend. It's nice to have titles like 'captain' and 'hero', but they don't really mean anything. You can be a captain without being nice. Anybody can call you a captain, but not everyone can call you a friend. It takes someone special to be your friend. To like you, even if you're not very likable.

I've had some good friends. Bucky was one of them. He was one of my best friends. I still miss him every day. Peggy was a good friend, as well. She was more than a friend, though. I don't feel the same kind of pain for her as I do for Bucky. Her loss is more of a dull ache. Losing Bucky was worse, in a way. I think, every day, about how he would act if he were still alive. I wonder how he would feel about the world now.

In our day, it was so much different. The world now seems infatuated with the things that people frowned upon in our time. The way people dress is much different. The way people act is different. Things we would consider horrible back when I was growing up are viewed as normal and expected now. I don't think I'll ever get used to it.

The world around me isn't the only thing that has changed since I crashed. I know that I have. I mean, I was just a skinny kid from Brooklyn before the serum. After it, I was strong. I was tall. Everything seemed smaller, in a way. I was taller than most other people. I wasn't the underdog anymore. Nothing was the same. My clothes didn't even fit. The change that has taken place in my life now is similar to that of the change after the serum.

I see the world differently after military training. I feel like I have to make sure that something isn't a threat before I'll have anything to do with it. It makes everything harder. People tell me to relax, to stop taking everything so hard. But it's natural to me.

Maybe it's so natural because of all the rough things I've gone through. Red Skull was no fun. I lost a lot because of him. I lost bits of myself. He angered me to no end. I had never hated anyone so much. I've hated people since, though. There are different kinds of hate, however. There are the kinds of hate that aren't strong. Then there are the kinds of hate that burn inside you. Sometimes, I hate myself. Those times aren't so often now, though. I've hated people on all of those different levels. I've only ever hated one person as much as I hated Johann Schmidt. That person was Loki.

I say 'was' because I don't hate him anymore. He's practically one of us, now. Yes, he attempted to take over the world, but after the truth was exposed, we accepted him into our group. I'd even call him a friend now. It's a big change from enemy, but he deserves it. He's done nothing permanently damaging, and he's actually helped us. So yes, I call him friend.

All of the Avengers are my friends. Natasha, Clint, Bruce, Tony, Thor, and I do stuff together all the time. Sometimes we watch movies, sometimes we just sit around. I can always be myself around them. I can talk to them if I need to. Clint's good at keeping my secrets. Bruce is good for helping me keep my sanity. Natasha makes me feel like a real person. Thor can make me laugh no matter what mood I'm in. Tony's a bit more complicated than the others. He's a good friend, for sure. But he's a bit harder to explain. We often pick on one another, but we know it's all in fun. He calls me an old-timer, and I'll call him a tech-head. We can get into pretty bad arguments at times. Sometimes, we don't talk to each other for days. We always make up eventually, though. I guess that's how real friends are. You may get mad at one another, but you always bounce right back.

At the moment, I'm on the sofa in the main sitting room, flipping through the channels. There's absolutely nothing good on. I think about turning on Netflix, but I don't really feel like getting up. Instead, I just turn off the television and stare out at nothing.

Most of the other Avengers are gone. Clint and Natasha are off on some mission for S.H.I.E.L.D. Bruce is at Loki's house with Thor. I'm not really sure why they're there, but they are. I'm here with Tony. All alone. And a few hours ago, we got into another fight. Neither of us has said anything since. I came in here, and he went to his computer room with the music turned up so loud that I could hear it.

I can't help but wonder if this time, things won't mend like they usually do. We both said some extremely hurtful things. I know that I didn't mean any of them. I had meant them when I said them, but I didn't really mean them. I was so angry that the words that flew out of my mouth had a singular purpose, and that was to hurt. I wish now that I hadn't said them, but in the heat of the moment, I didn't really care about the consequences of allowing such careless remarks to spill out. When I think about it now, I realize that the same thing was happening in Tony's mind. In that moment, every remark was carefully crafted to hit its mark, with little regard for the lasting effects and scars that may remain.

I'm almost certain that he's in his room, thinking about what has happened. He's probably been thinking about it for a while now. He says things that he doesn't mean all the time. And not just to me. He says some pretty rough things to all the Avengers. They all take it pretty easily. I'd like to say that I usually do, too. That's not the case, though. He grates on my nerves, and his words are like salt rubbed into an open wound. He's a jerk most of the time. But we all deal with himbecause, like all people, he has a good side. I try to remember his good side now. I can see it. I know it's there, but the memory of his words comes floating back.

I find myself chewing the inside of my cheek, holding my breath and expelling it in infrequent bursts through my nose. I'm still angry at him. But I know I shouldn't be. I know he didn't mean those words. He uses them as protection. Same as Loki. They both use their cruel words to hide their feelings inside. Their angry words come out to play when they get hurt.

That thought halts everything. When they get hurt, they lash out. I must have hurt Tony in some way. In a real way. This time, something was really bad about something I said. It must have really hurt him. Usually our little spats aren't this bad. We just avoid each other for a while, normally. He will go into his computer room. I'll go to my bedroom. But we almost never try to forget what happened by doing something else. I know for a fact that he can't focus when he's angry. He probably just sits in there and stares at nothing, most likely thinking about what happened. It's the same thing I do. I usually sit down after we argue, and I think about what I said. I think about how much I wish I could take it away. But this time I turned on the television. I tried to distract myself. I didn't want to think about it. I knew I really hurt him this time. And I know that he really hurt me, too.

I look over at the door as Tony comes in. He looks terrible. He holds himself more stiffly than he usually does. He walks past the sofa and into the kitchen. I hear the coffee maker come on and the smell of my favorite coffee drifts into the room. Caramel. He doesn't even like caramel coffee.

I can hear him opening the refrigerator. A moment later, it opens again and I hear the sound of a mostly full milk jug going back in. He doesn't like milk in his coffee, either. He takes it black. So what is he doing?

The clink of a spoon against the inside of a mug reaches my ears and I guess that he's stirring in sugar. After a minute, I smell another cup of coffee brewing in the Keurig. This time it smells like Foglifter, Tony's favorite.

This must be his way of apologizing. Getting coffee. I have to admit, it's not a bad way to do it. It most certainly isn't the best, but it isn't the worst. Either way, it's a start. A good start considering what he said.

A few minutes pass and he comes in to sit beside me. He slides over what I assume is my cup and takes a sip of his own. Neither of us look at the other. I stare down at my coffee for a moment before lifting it up and taking a long drink. He's made it just how I like it. Amazing. No one else has ever been able to make it how I like it best.

I look over at him after that and find him staring at me over his own mug. I can see the grin crawl across his face in the crinkles by his nose and eyes. I can't help but smile myself. I know he's forgiven me, and I'm pretty sure that he knows that I've forgiven him. Because that's what friends do. We have arguments, but we always spring right back up.

I laugh slightly at Tony's next words, and I understand immediately what he means. He doesn't mean it romantically. He means it like a friend.

"I love you."

My name is Steven Rogers, and even after what I said, I am loved.

A/N: So, there's Steve's! I hope it doesn't disappoint you all too much.

As always, I appreciate reviews!