STEVE'S POV

Exhaustion clouds my mind as I scroll through maps and scans of the universe. I can barely focus, but Thanos could be anywhere. We need to find him as soon as possible.

"Still nothing. I don't know where we missed, but we had to have missed something," I lament, passing the tablet to Bruce so he can take a closer look himself. Instead of diving into the information, he lowers the tablet and frowns.

"How long has it been since you've slept?"

"I'm fine."

"No, you're not. I'm serious, when was the last time you slept?" I struggle through my hazy thoughts to pinpoint a day. I've been living off of black coffee.

"I don't know. A few days ago? That sounds about right. I dozed off accidentally a few times, too. Not long."

"You're worse than she was about getting sleep. Steve, that's not really healthy," he says. "You look terrible. I can handle this search stuff for a few hours. Everyone else is asleep, anyway. It's past two. Go get some rest and come back later."

"I can't." I avoid his eyes and take the tablet back just as something to do.

"Don't make up excuses. You'll work better with sleep in your system, trust me. I know it's rough for you, but it's rough for everyone right now."

I shake my head, ashamed of myself. "No, I actually can't. I can't sleep. I've tried a few times. I wish I could escape it all for a while. Each time I fall asleep, I get a nightmare and I wake up, only there's no one lying in bed next to me."

That's the scariest feeling of all. Waking up and reaching over to find a cold, empty spot on the bed.

This last week has taken a toll on everyone. Bruce, like me, has become driven by work. If Natasha's not helping us, she's constantly training. Thor and Rhodes have been much quieter than usual, and Pietro has been completely avoiding any human interaction. I've barely seen him at all. He gets up early to go on runs and doesn't come back until nighttime.

"I'm really sorry, Steve."

"I know. Thank you." I sigh and rub a hand tiredly over my eyes.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"No. I don't think there's a way to fix this. Only time will do that. It's just hard. I keep seeing her everywhere. Everything has memories. It's like a piece of me is gone now. I don't know how to handle it."

"Still. The last thing we need is another teammate down, and we need you, Steve," Bruce says, his voice firm. "We're not giving up. We're going to find a way to reverse it, but we need to be smart about it. I yelled at Natasha about this, too. You've got to take care of yourself."

"Fine," I say, finally relenting. There's no use arguing. Every word he says is completely true. "I'll go get some sleep. At least I'll try to."

"Good. I'll see you in a few hours."

FRIDAY takes me up the elevator to my old room. When was the last time I was here? The day the UN took us from our honeymoon. Two whole years. Now, though, it's hollow.

My throat closes as I take in the room. It's clearly mine, but there are touches of things that remind me of her. A DVD for Phantom of the Opera on the dresser. A physics book. My leather jacket that she always stole. And a picture of us in New York on our first date.

It hurts. Every single second lived without Mer hurts unlike anything I've ever endured before. I just feel so empty inside. And more than that, I feel like there's no one for me to turn to. My best friends and sister are dead, too. This is why I need to reverse Thanos's snap.

Because I'm all alone.

Everyone expects me to be the strong one, but I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending. She was the strong one, not me.

I quickly change into a T-shirt and a pair of sweatpants before laying down and pulling a blanket over myself, knowing that my body will eventually give into the pure exhaustion. It's only a matter of time. In the dark, I seem more lonely yet comforted, shielded by illusions. I can't see the place in bed where my wife should lay. I can't see the phantom smile she'd give me. In the dark, it's easier to pretend. But it's cold without her in my arms. I haven't had a bed to myself in a long time.

After at least an hour of staring at the ceiling, I pick up my phone and scroll through playlists before finding one. America's Favorite Songs. Somehow, listening to songs that meant a lot to her always brought us closer. I click on shuffle and close my eyes. The music plays softly in the background, but I still hear every word.

"Alone in this house again tonight. Got the TV on, sound turned down and a bottle of wine."

Why? Why did she have to die? She was a good person. She didn't deserve it. I lay still as these thoughts plague me. She had a terrible life with a terrible ending.

"There's pictures of you and I on the walls around me. The way that it was and could have been surrounds me. I'll never get over you walking away."

No. Her life wasn't terrible. The beginning was dark, but she turned things around. And she loved me. We shared the best years of our lives, no matter how short they were.

"I've never been the kind to ever let my feelings show and I thought that being strong meant never losing your self-control."

Why does she like sad songs so much? A tear escapes my eye as I try to blink it back, but once the first one falls, more take its place. The tears silently stream down my face, and I bury my face in the pillow so no one will hear me.

"But I'm just drunk enough to let go of my pain. To hell with my pride, let it fall like rain from my eyes."

I miss her.

"Tonight I wanna cry."

If you want this chapter to be even sadder, listen to the song (above).

Sorry I haven't been too active lately, but I've been busy with school! Vote and comment xo