Characters: Steve and Natasha, very little Sam
Warnings: sad, no spoilers
When: after CA2
For: everyone because I'm seriously behind with this shit
Natasha finds him in the spare room of Sam's apartment. He's curled into a ball, sitting upright in the corner that connects the two walls farthest from the door. Smart. Steve's forehead rests on his arms, and he's quiet.
Natasha walks over, making enough noise for him to know he's not alone, and sits next to Steve. She doesn't touch him - she knows better than to approach an angry snake. She doesn't want to get bitten.
Slowly, his head comes up, his eyes red. She wonders if this is the first time he's come truly undone since waking up in the new century. He's always been so composed, she would be surprised if he hadn't let go of the agony his situation put him through.
Now, she's not usually one for giving out comfort, but there's never been a more worthy person of receiving comfort. Hesitantly, her hand comes up to Steve's head, and he ducks under her arm, so that his head rests on her chest.
She strokes his hair and lightly scrapes her nails over his scalp while he finally lets go. His arms wrap around her waist and he pulls her closer to him. Steve's obviously touch depraved, but Nat's happy to give him all of the touches she possibly can.
He cries and cries and cries. It's heart wrenching, his crying, because he's the strong one and if he's crying, then something is truly wrong with the world.
"Natasha," he sobs into her chest. She clutches him tighter.
"Shhhhhh. Steve, you're okay. You're safe. You've got people that care about you; you're fine. Shhhhhh."
He only cries harder.
Sam finds them like that hours later, except Steve's asleep and Natasha is smiling.