The entire flight home was silent.  You were grateful that Tony didn't push you for any information, though you really could have used someone to sort out the flurry of thoughts going through your head. You had spanned the full gamut of emotions, from sadness that Steve couldn't come to you with the PTSD he was struggling with and your broken heart at what that must mean for him to acknowledge it, to the shamefulness towards yourself for your own words and actions directed at him.  Ultimately, you were so immensely proud of him that it paled everything else, and you only wished that you could tell him so. 

But this wasn't for you to bring up, it was for him to do.  And you would wait. 

"Hey, snap out of it, we're home."

"Hmm?" you mumbled absentmindedly, looking at Tony for a second before his words registered in your mind.  "Oh, yeah, right."

"Mind telling me where you went there?" Tony asked quietly, still in the pilot seat and watching you gather your things.  "Because you sure as hell weren't here."

You gave him a polite smile, then moved next to him for a hug, "thank you so much, Tony.  I know that you want Steve and I to work things out," you paused when he opened his mouth, raising your hand to stop him, "shhh. I can't promise you that we will, and I can't say that we won't.  But please, let us do this, okay?  No matter which way it goes."

"Okay," he sighed, "but I'm not about to stand by and watch you get hurt.  Those days are over."

"Deal," you nodded and grabbed one of your bags with your cane in your other hand, carefully making your way back to your room.  A movement in the infirmary caught your peripheral vision, and when you turned to look, your bag dropped to the floor to hurry inside. 

"Rogers, what happened?"

Steve sat up straighter in the bed at the sight of you, now visibly uncomfortable in your presence. He fidgeted with the blanket and looked around as if he were hoping that someone would come along to rescue him. "Um...hey, (Y/N)...yeah, I...Thor hit me a few times...in training.  I have a little bit of a concussion."

"And no one thought to tell me..." you faded, realizing that of course no one told you.  Why would they?  You no longer had any responsibility to each other.  "Okay, so, how are you?  When did that happen?"

"I've been a prisoner here for three days, being force-fed all colors of jello by Romanoff because she's mean."  He chuckled quietly and uncomfortably, looking in your eyes a little longer than was comfortable for either of you; he was mesmerized by your smile at the sound of his laughter.  "So, where were you off to?  Business trip?"

"Yeah, I took a quick flight over to England to visit your ex-girlfriend."

"Pfft, I get it, okay? That's what Nat said too," he scoffed, shaking his head.  "If you don't want to tell me where you went, just say so."

Wow, he must have really hit his head pretty hard, you thought with a small smile that didn't escape him.  You found yourself again holding each others' gaze a little longer, saying a million things in the silence between you.  For just a moment, he was your Steve again, and you were his. Nothing was insurmountable if you were together, as it had always been.  "Right," you gasped, pulling yourself back into the moment, "I have to go unpack, but if you need anything, you can call me, okay?"  You reached up and gave his hand a small squeeze before you turned away, but you were halted when he held it tightly to stop you.

"Dinner."

You turned and looked at him with surprise, not quite sure that you had heard what you thought you heard. "I'm sorry?"

"It gets kinda lonely in here," he sighed, "and I can't get out until Banner clears me or I get babysitters.  So, would you maybe join me here for dinner?  I'd really like the company."

"Sure," you replied without a second of hesitation, "I'll order something in.  It sounds nice."

"It's a date," he whispered to himself, watching you walk towards the door before he stopped you again. "Hey, (Y/N), make sure you dress appropriately.  We have a very strict dress code here," he chuckled, rolling over to show you the open back of his hospital gown, along with the lack of anything underneath.

"Steven!"  you hollered, slapping your hands over your eyes as you pushed your way out of the room and out of his sight.  You rounded the corner to the next hallway and stopped abruptly, leaning back against the wall with a laugh that felt like it echoed through the entire building, filling a void in your soul that you didn't realize you had until that moment.

~~~

"Red or black?" Natasha asked, holding out two pair of shoes for you to choose from.  "Or should I do the gold ones?  No, red or black?  Wait, what about that silver pair?"

"Hey, how about this," you chuckled, "what happened to my friend Nat?  Do you know where she might be?  Because I don't know who this is," you said as you waved your hand up and down towards her, checking her choice in clothes at the same time.  "The black ones."

With a nod she pitched the other pair into her closet without a care to where they landed, dropping herself onto her bed to put on the tall heels you had chosen.  "God, I'm so uncomfortable.  Why do we feel like we have to get so dressed up anyway?  A man should like us for who we are, not what we look like.  And right now, I feel like I look ridiculous."

"Shut up, Romanoff, you're gorgeous and you know it."

"So, enough about me," she smirked, standing and moving to the mirror for a quick check of her makeup, "I hear you have a big date tonight too.  Are you excited?"

"Who told you that?!"

"I never reveal my sources."

"Banner," you hissed, remembering that he was in the room and not too far away when Steve had invited you.  "You know, it really pisses me off that no one's afraid of me anymore. As soon as I can ditch the old walking stick here, things are getting back to normal and fast."

Natasha scanned the top of her dresser, searching for something but coming up empty.  "Hey, can I borrow some perfume?"  You nodded in approval and stood steady, waiting for her to go to your room and back.  "So, how did the visit with the ex go?  I haven't had a chance to ask you." 

"She's really lovely. I feel like an ass for ever thinking a single bad thing about her, honestly."  Grabbing a clip from the dresser, you moved behind her to secure a few stray waves of her vibrant red hair that had wiggled loose, and gave the zipper of her dress one final tug to be sure it was set.  "Talking to her changed how I see things.  She opened my eyes to a lot that I would've never known if I hadn't gone.  All I know is that when I walked out of her room, I saw Steve completely differently, and I've never been more proud of him."   

She spun around to face you, her expression now eager to know the details, quickly dropping when you refused.  "You won't tell me even a little bit?"

"It's not my place. If he wants you to know, he'll tell you. Hell, he hasn't even told me this stuff himself yet."

"Miss," FRIDAY announced, "your escort has arrived and is waiting at the main entry."

"Okay," she sighed, "walk me out on your way to your date."  You linked your arm through hers and made your way to the front of the building, talking quietly until her date approached the two of you, taking her from your arm.  He leaned in and gave you a small hello kiss on your cheek, smiling at the shocked expression he had caused in you at the sight of him.

"Hey, (Y/N).  You look great."

"Thanks, Clint," you gasped quietly, "so do you."

~~~

You stood outside of the infirmary doors, two bags of take-out Italian in your shaking hands, watching him as he waited for you.  He looked as nervous as you felt, running his hands through his already messy blonde hair several times and wringing his hands together.  "Go," you whispered to yourself, your eyes still locked on him. "It's just Steve."  It was a lie that you were telling yourself to force your feet to move, but you knew it wasn't 'just Steve'.  It was everything you had been through in the past months; words that had been left unsaid, words that needed apology, and actions that you had no excuse for and from which you needed forgiveness.  It was secrets that were about to come to light, in order to expunge the past and make way for a chance at the future.

With a nod of resolution, you opened the doors and smiled as he saw you, his demeanor immediately changing to match yours; he was relieved that you were there after hours of worrying that you wouldn't show.  "Right on time, (Y/N).  I'm starving."

"Nice to see you too, Rogers," you scoffed, setting the bags on a nearby table.  "I wasn't sure what to wear, and I was worried I would be late." Untying the belt of the coat you had used to walk Nat outside, you smiled to yourself and removed it, waiting for the inevitable reaction that you were hoping for.

"Holy shit, you didn't," Steve laughed out loud, covering his mouth as to not draw too much attention while he watched you adjust the hospital gown to cover your exposed back side. He crossed his legs to sit on one end of the cot so that you could sit on the other, setting up the meal between you. "I didn't think you were gonna take me seriously, but I like it."

"Hey, a girl wants to impress the guy on the first date."   

"Is that what you're trying to do?" he said quietly in sharp contrast to the boisterous laugh only seconds ago.  "Because you do that without having to try, (Y/N)."

You finished serving his plate and handed it to him, shaking your head with uncertainty as you moved on to your own.  "I don't know what I'm doing, Steve.  I'm just taking this minute by minute."  Putting your thumb in your mouth casually to lick some of the sauce from it, you heard him take a quick deep breath that caught in his throat.  "I heard that."

"I told you I was starving."