Work Text:
Steve unlocked your apartment, using the key you gave him for emergencies. As far as he was concerned, five unanswered texts over two days was enough of an emergency to justify the use of the key. Steve had noticed you were acting strangely for the past few weeks, he chalked it up to a lack of sleep or stress; he knew you were under a ton of stress at work lately. He told you to slow down on more than one occasion, but you would always brush him off, saying you were okay, things would calm down once you finished your project. But there was always another project right around the corner. He knew your boyfriend had broken up with you a few months ago, but Steve could’ve sworn you were over him.
“Y/N?” he called out into your apartment, his senses on high alert.
He walked back towards your bedroom and peaked his head in. Steve saw you buried under the covers and he swore he heard you sniffling, but he couldn’t be sure.
“Y/N?” he tried once again, sitting on the edge of your bed.
“Steve?” you asked, your voice hoarse from disuse. “What are you doing here?”
“I was worried. You didn’t answer my texts.”
“Sorry, I’m fine, though. You can go,” you responded shortly.
“Doll, talk to me,” he said, pressing on your shoulder to get you to face him. “Please?”
“Steve. Just drop it. Lock the door on your way out.”
“No,” he said firmly. “No, I’m not leaving until you at least look at me. I need to know your okay.”
You turned to face him, and Steve was surprised by what he saw. Your usually bright eyes were dull and wet with unshed tears, bloodshot from all the crying you had been doing. Your hair was greasy and sticking out everywhere.
“Are you happy? Please just leave now, Steve.”
“Y/N… what’s wrong? What happ-”
“You want to know what’s wrong, Steve? You wanna know what’s fucking wrong? I lost my job. They fired me. The only job I ever loved, the job I lost my boyfriend over, and it’s just gone. I’m fucking useless Steve! Can’t even keep a goddamn job! And I’m sick of it. I’m sick of feeling so bad about myself all the time. I’m sick of being worthless. I’m sick of existing Steve! I’m just fucking tired. So if you could leave and let me be alone, that would be wonderful.”
“Y/N, I need you to take a breath and calm down so we can talk about this.”
You flipped back the covers with a groan and jumped out of bed.
“Fuck you, Steve. I don’t a star-spangled pep talk. I need you to get the hell out of my apartment and leave me alone. You’re better off without me in your life. Everyone is. So just go.”
“Do you really think that?” Steve asked quietly. “That everyone is better off without you?”
You stayed silent and stared at your feet, avoiding Steve’s gaze. When you didn’t answer, he got off your bed and walked towards you.
“If you weren’t here, who would help Bucky on his mission to watch every Disney movie ever? Or teach Natasha to cook? Who would be the person I tell everything to?” he questioned, putting his hands on your hips. “Who would talk to Tony about his new suits? Or entertain Peter’s millions of questions a day? Who would give me a run for my money when it comes to pointless trivia? Or anything for that matter. Who would be my best girl?”
“Someone else Steve,” you said, tears starting to flow again. “I can’t do it anymore. I’m so goddamn tired of pretending.”
“Pretending what?” Steve asked.
“Pretending that I’m good enough. Pretending that I’m not absolutely broken.”
“You know, it kills me that you feel that way. It kills me that you don’t see yourself like I do. Because when I see you, I see someone who is more than enough in every way possible. I see someone brave. Someone funny and kind. Someone who is a fighter.”
“What if I’m tired of fighting Steve?” you asked in a whisper.
“Then you let someone help you. You let me help you. I just need you to keep holding on. We can make it through this. Together. Your my best friend, Y/N. I need you to just be strong for me, for yourself. I’m here for you. Without fail, I will always be here for you. But I need you to let me help you.”
You sniffled loudly before nodding slightly.
“C’mere,” Steve said, pulling you into his arms. “You’re gonna be okay. Just keep holding on.”