Captian America Oneshot - Tumblr Posts

The Blizzard || Steve Rogers x Reader Oneshot

Summary: Steve and Y/N are married and they deal with Steve’s PTSD. Steve, after snap of Thanos' fingers, has gotten it again but this time it hit him harder. In the winter scenery , reader does her best to calm her man down.

Warnings: none

Words: 1088

Request by: @porgswillrullgalaxymotherfucker

Authors: Rouge

In the blizzard there was no way to know which direction to go, the usual landmarks were hidden behind the white that swirled so densely.

You could feel you blood cool and your skin become icy. They shouldn't have come, not in this weather, but there was no other choice, Steve’s PTSD caught him harder than ever before.

Steve has always loved the flowers and the birds, loved the sunlight and the clouds that drift by. He has always loved the way the leaves move in a breeze and that soft whispering sound they make, like nature loves to chatter too. Yet the tiredness that begun a while ago remained like a veil over his skin, grey and cold. And as he watched the petals and the twigs that sway outside the window, there was only a creeping sorrow where there should be joy.

You, as Steve’s wife, were trying so hard to help him, yet failed. No doctor nor therapy were successful. Steve’s condition has gotten even worse in past three months.

It was when you’ve made a decision about leaving Washington. You’ve found a cozy cottage house near White Mountains,  New Hampshire. Gladly, Steve agreed on that idea, and soon you both were on your way.

And now, you were finishing a dinner, while Steve was laying on the couch, reading some book that you’ve discovered on the shelf in the little living room.

When you set everything on the table, you looked at Steve, smiling gently at him. “Darling, dinner’s ready.”

His eyes met yours, he simply nodded and closed the book, leaving it on the couch as he got up and took a seat at the opposite side of the table.

You were eating in the silence, from time to time Steve was looking up at you, remaining quiet.

Soon the dinner was finished, and you went to wash the dishes. You were surprised seeing, how Steve joined you in the kitchen and started wiping plates.

“How are you?” You asked slightly.

“It’s better. But I am not sure. Let’s just say it’s okay for now,” he responded, shrugging.

You couldn’t help but giggled loudly. “I just hope this place will help you get your strengths back, Steve,” you looked at him briefly, then focused on the dishes again. “It’s so calm and silent here, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is, doesn’t it bother you, Y/N?” His voice became softer, Steve leant his hip against the kitchen counter, still wiping plates and putting them to the nearest cabinet.

“Me? No, not at all, actually I needed this after all that urban uproar, you know?” You stated simply.

Steve smirked a bit, and the conversation was over. It was still a good sign that he eventually was talking to you instead of running away…

*****************

It was late in the evening.

Steve looked out of the window at the blizzard. He watched a driveway disappear in the sure knowledge that he'd only have to dig it out again in the morning.

“It’s snowing. Again,” Steve admitted.

You raised your glance to look at him. “Don’t bother with it. We’re in the warm house, there’s nothing bad to happen,” you smiled, but you noticed how his facial expression has changed, so you put a papers you were filling aside and got up to approach him. “Steve… What’s wrong?” You put hand on his muscular shoulder. “Are you feeling fine?”

As soon as you touched him you felt, how tensed his muscles were. He was about having another anxiety attack, you good knew this.

“Hey, handsome, come here,” you slipped your palm to his, tangling your fingers together as you pulled him to the couch.

You sat down, so did he. His steel blue eyes found yours, and the only thing you saw in them was sadness. A huge sadness.

“Steve,” your voice was nothing more but a whisper, “It wasn’t your fault. No one could have saved them. No one,” you claimed.

Steve put his face in his hands, he was sobbing slightly. And suddenly he shouted out loudly: “There are days when my head just doesn't work! I try so hard to focus and it's like trying to run through water. My brain fogs up and thoughts go nowhere at all. Sometimes I think its natures anesthesia, anything to numb the pain, to wipe out the trauma. Then there are the times of clarity, sudden moments when I can see every detail and feel every feeling. The trigger can be anything...,” Steve explained quietly, “And I see those faces over and over again. I could have saved them…,” he was breathing hard, he paled on his face.

You lowered your head. Truth was that you also were having very difficult time lately, but you wanted to stay strong, for him.

“At the start I hoped it was a process to wipe out the bad memories, to stop me reliving them to well-meaning askers. Now I know it's not so simple,” Steve added, looking at you. “I don’t know if I will survive all this, Y/N.”

He laid his back down, placing his head on your lap, and you smiled. You started playing with his bangs, gently scratching his nape with other hand.

Steve closed his eyes and purred lazily. “I don’t know what I’d do without you, Y/N,” man declared openly. “I’d be already gone…”

“Shush, Mr Rogers,” you leant down to place a kiss to kiss forehead.

Steve hummed softly and moved a bit, so his lips met yours as he gave the kiss back. “It’s you who makes me calm everytime,” he opened his eyes, looking up at you.

You chuckled a bit and booped his nose with your index finger. “I’ve told you a thousand times – it’s gonna get better. It just takes time to heal. Like a wound,” you tangled your fingers in his bangs, and Steve reached his hand out to caress your cheek.“You know, I like this cold. Cold is good if you are warm inside, just the same as we love ice in the summer time,” he laughed shortly. “Even on the coldest days of winter the sun is bright in the sky, bringing a bit of joy to my heart. Even now, when we can’t go back to the world that we knew before.”

You smiled. “That’s good, Steve. I’m happy you’re getting better,” you said, looking at the fire that was cracking in the fireplace. “We’ll make through it, I promise.”

And it was still snowing outside.

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