I changed the ending to be more sad.

Steve felt the tears pooled around her eyes as he sank down on to his knees.

His baby blue eyes met the soft sadden e/c eyes that he loved.

"You have 15 min." Thor said, nodding at Y/N.

The soft click of the door closed behind as Thor left the room.

Steve stared at Y/N in wonder as he cried silently.

"Don't cry, Steve." She mumbled, cradling him in her arms. "You'll make me cry too."

"I-I thought you where gone!" He said, wrapping his muscular arms around her frail body.

"I am." She answered, pressing her palm into his chest through his thin shirt.

"Y-You mean—" He stopped, didn't say the word that haunted him.

"I'm dead." She bluntly stated. "Thor just convinced... some people for me to visit you."

"It's been a month." He whispered into her head, savoring everything he could. "I've been a wreck."

She smiled softly and cupped his face. "That's why Thor brought me here." She said. "To, uh, reassure you."

"That what?" He demanded, "That I didn't fail? That I didn't save you?" He could feel the lump start to form in his chest.

She pressed her cold finger against his warm lips. "Shhh, don't say that."

He gently pushed her finger aside, "You and I both know it's true."

"You didn't fail." She said. "You just..."

"I didn't save you in time-" He stopped, "Like Bucky. But this time, I don't have any redemption."

"You couldn't save me." She said. "There was now way that—"

The door opened, Thor came in.

"Time's up." He said, looking at them.

Steve clenched his fist. "Okay."

"Wait," Y/N said. "Can't we just have another minute?" She plead.

"You and I both know that isn't possible." Thor said.

Steve kissed her forehead, gingerly. "It's okay, Y/N."

And she left, leaving Steve to drown in his sorrow.

Steve watched the last of her h/c hair got whisked behind the doors as the click woke up up,

His misty blue eyes shot up and met his apartment ceiling.

Steve frowned, confused but then was haunted back by the shrill screams and pounding footsteps.

And he went back, sinking into his bed.

What used to be his shared bed.

Back to the cold and lonely world.

Haunted by his imagination of him reassuring himself that he saved her.

That he didn't fail the second time.

That he made it.

That he wasn't back where he started, alone, tiny, and unable to do anything.