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Setting: TFA

It had been a few hours since you'd last seen your best friend, Steve Rogers. The day was full of anticipation and you were quite worried about Steve undergoing the procedure that was supposedly going to make him the world's first ever "super-soldier."

He'd went inside of the lab with the beautiful Peggy Carter, a woman you'd grown to envy in the short amount of time since Steve had told you about her. He seemed pretty smitten with her, and it only hurt you more than the thought of only ever being known as "Steve's best friend" for the rest of your life did.

You cared for Steve. . .far more than a common friend would. You never admitted it to yourself, but you were in love with the little guy. He'd drawn you in with his cute, awkward personality at first; he could not speak to women at all before meeting you. After you grew to know him more and more, the way he talked about peace and sacrifice for his country only made you fall harder.

Steve Rogers was much more than the little guy everyone pegged him to be. His body was small, but his heart was bigger than any you'd ever known. That was what you fell in love with—the righteous man who desperately wanted to do what was right.

Now, you stood outside of the building that housed the secret lab, your heart racing. Not knowing whether Steve was alright or not was tearing you apart inside, and it was hard to stay put and wait as he had told you to do.

"I promise, (y/n), I'll be a new man." He'd said before turning to follow Peggy inside.

But that wasn't what you wanted; "a new man" was not at all what you hoped to exit the building. You just wanted Steve, no matter how tall or fit he was; you just wanted him safe.

Next thing you knew, you could hear an explosion from within the building, jerking you out of your thoughts. You took a step towards the building, your breath baited as you felt yourself glued to the pavement. Steve was in there. Had the experiment gone wrong? Was he dead?

You then heard gunshots, sending chill bumps up your spine. Within minutes, a man was busting out of the building, a pistol in hand. The startled look on your face must have been enough to give away that you had heard everything, and he shot at you without thought.

You managed to dodge the first bullet; however, the second soared through the air and next thing you knew, you were on the ground looking up at Steve's face.

You became aware of a pressure on your abdomen—Steve's hand— and then glanced up and down at him, noticing how muscular he was now.

"It worked." You mumbled, feeling lightheaded as ever.

You could see the vibrancy of your blood staining his hands as he tried to stop you from bleeding out. His blue eyes were solely on you, a terrified expression on his face.

"Stay with me, (y/n)." Steve whispered, brushing stray hairs away from your face.

The rapid rise and fall of his chest also gave away his worries, and it was then that for the first time. . .you thought Steve might just have loved you back.

"It worked. You're a new man, huh?" You breathed out, slightly chuckling as you did so, though it hurt to.

"No, I was wrong. I'm the same man. Just. . .taller." He forced a smile, though you could see the pain in his eyes.

Though you did feel lightheaded, you felt no pain in your abdomen where the bullet had embedded itself in you. It was as if you weren't even shot, only dizzy and tired.

"The little guy with the big heart. . .now you're the big guy with the big heart." You muttered out as your eyes fluttered shut, your eyelids too heavy to keep open.

"Hey, hey, (y/n), stay awake. You have to stay with me, okay?" Steve's voice was trembling at this point.

"I can't. I can't, Steve." You could literally feel yourself losing contact with the world, getting lost in the depths of your mind.

You'd always wanted to die with Steve by your side, as your husband. This wasn't much different, only you weren't married and you weren't in your nineties. You were young—too young. . .

and watching you die at his fingertips was something Steve never could have prepared himself for.