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Chapter Text

Steve Rogers stood at the window of his room at the compound and watched as Thor took flight. It was an overcast day, and as the despondent thunder god tore through the sky, the heavens opened up and wept. Wind swept across the land and sent heavy raindrops clattering against the window, turning the world outside into a sad watercolor painting. Thunder and lightning crashed with such fury that Steve felt it deep within his soul.

"Thor just left," Natasha announced from the doorway.

Steve sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "Yeah. I saw."

When the team had boarded the ship for the ride home from the empty mission, morale had been so low that no one had words. They spoke in slow, sad body language and somber expressions. Steve could still see the look on Thor's face when they'd returned home and delivered the news to the others. That their family was going to stay broken. That no one was coming back. The agonized guilt on Thor's face was heartbreaking. He'd stormed out of the room and Steve chased after him, hoping to slow him down so they could talk.

"What is there to talk about?!" Thor had demanded before storming away and leaving Steve at a loss for words. What was there to talk about? They'd truly lost. And there was no coming back.

Natasha crossed the room and hugged him from behind. "We're going to get through this, Steve."

Steve tried to fire up some kind of hope within him and failed. "I don't know how, Nat." He turned around to face her. "How do we get through this? How can we?"

"Because we don't have a choice. Because if we lay down and give up on life then Thanos didn't just take half of us away; he'll have taken all of us."

Steve digested what she said and forced a smile. "I can always count on you to give me a kick in the ass, can't I?"

Natasha smiled up at him, but it was a hollow one. Through it, Steve could see the fatigue in her face; he could see that she's recently cried.

"How is everyone?" Steve asked.

"Well. Tony and Pepper have left. Rocket and Nebula left with Carol. Bruce is in his lab, drowning his sorrows in a riveting edition of the scientific journal. Sue is finally sleeping. And Thor, as you know, is currently flooding all of New York."

Steve nodded.

"You know, there was a time when I thought the Avengers could handle anything." Natasha sat down on Steve's bed and hugged her legs to her chest. "Even knowing that Thanos had five of the Stones, I believed in us. And I still do."

"Even after we dropped the ball so hard?"

"Even after we dropped the ball so hard," Natasha said.

Steve sat down next to her and shook his head. "You know, I think I get why we lost. Why Thanos was able to pull it off."

Natasha tilted her head and waited for him to go on.

"He came into this prepared to sacrifice whatever he had to if it meant winning. He killed his own daughter. We weren't willing to do the same." He took a deep breath. "Vision told us to kill him."

Natasha shook her head. "No. Don't go down that road, Steve."

"I'm just saying. The Avengers are a family. He used that against us." He shook his head and his eyes burned as fresh tears came. "I never thought, in all my life, that being a family would be our downfall."

Natasha reached for his hand and squeezed it. "Yeah. But being a family might just be what gets us through all of this."

In the weeks that followed what humanity had started to call the Blip, the compound had been like a tomb. It was haunted by the few occupants who remained. Nat stayed at Sue's side. Bruce remained in his lab for the majority of each day but would come out for meals. Thor came and went, mostly staying in his room. When he showed his face, he spoke very little and avoided eye contact.

Steve took it upon himself to try to pull a brave face. The hurt was real and very deep, but he'd always been something of a symbol for people. A beacon of hope, even if he didn't always feel it. And he certainly didn't now.

He was sitting in the den alone one evening after everyone else had gone to bed. As he sat in silence, his eyes fell upon the picture frames that filled the far wall. The faces of the dead smiled back at him. Standing, he walked over to the pictures and stared at each of them for what seemed like hours. He studied every face as if he feared he might forget what they looked like.

"I'm with you 'til the end of the line," Bucky's voice said from behind him.

The hair on the back of his neck stood up. Spinning around, his eyes were met with a horrific sight. The dead were standing among him. Tears assaulted his vision, but what he was seeing was unmistakable. They each stood there wearing a blank, emotionless expression as their eyes followed him.

"Your fault," Wanda angrily said as she lifted a finger and pointed. The others followed suit and pointed at him as well.

"We could be alive right now if it wasn't for you," Sam added.

Steve shook his head.

"Thor and I would be married right now if it wasn't for you," Dean said, his eyes overflowing with tears.

He squeezed his eyes shut and when he opened them he was alone.

"I need to sleep," he muttered to himself.

But sleep wouldn't fix anything. He saw them in his dreams. He saw them everywhere. He saw Wanda watching sitcoms with Vision. He saw Dean reading by the window. He saw Bucky on his bed.

"You think you're seeing their ghosts," Bruce asked him when he brought it up to the scientist.

Steve shook his head. "No. I don't think I'm seeing ghosts. I think I'm...I don't know. Going crazy?"

Bruce smiled and shook his head. "You're not going crazy. None of us is. We're just...hurting."

Adrift in his hurt, Steve struggled to sweep up the fragments of life and be the example he knew the world needed him to be. The world was irreparably broken and there wasn't anything he could do about it. Without a way to save anyone from this, the pressure of that mantle of Captain America was crushing him.

"Sometimes I just want to be Steve Rogers, the man. Not Captain America, the ideal," he confessed to Natasha one night when they sat near the lake and drank beer together.

"Maybe you should see someone," Natasha suggested.

Steve took a swig from the bottle and chuckled. "Tired of my war stories, Romanoff?"

Natasha shook her head. "No. Not tired of them. But..."

"But what?"

"When you first met Sam, he was leading group therapy for veterans," she said as she set her beer down on the dock and stared out at the stillness of the water.

"Yeah?"

"Maybe that's what you should do."

Steve smiled. "Nat, I don't think anyone wants me to lead anything these days. Last time I was a leader it didn't exactly go so well."

Natasha rolled her eyes. "Just a thought," she said before both of them retreated into their thoughts and studied the lake in silence.

But what had started out as 'just a thought' soon grew into something more. Natasha had planted a seed. The more Steve thought about the idea of group therapy, the more he realized how much he needed a sense of community. The others were in his life in varying degrees but he needed to feel a connection to more people. He needed to feel like he was of some use to others again.

"More than one way to fight," he told himself as he put his helmet on and mounted his bike. Then he let loose and the bike roared off and away from the compound.

In the nightmare Kyle Hensley was drowning in the dust of his loved ones. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing came out as the dust filled his mouth. His vision was completely obscured. He tried to climb up out of the pit but dust continued to fall upon him, covering him so completely that he couldn't move.

He cried out as he shot up in bed. The dorm room greeted him and he tried to ground himself. "You're safe," he said aloud.

Knowing that sleep wouldn't come again that night, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. Sweat coated him, causing his pajamas to stick to his skin. He turned around and stripped the damp bedding off. The dorm room was dark, with only the glow of moonlight invading the darkness in harsh slashes through the partially-closed mini blinds. As Kyle gathered the bedding up against his chest, he turned to look at the other side of the dorm.

Kurt's side of the room.

That side of the room was untouched- like some sort of shrine being kept in honor of Kurt. Kyle stood stock still and looked at all of the posters and memorabilia and stifled the urge to cry.

At eighteen years old, Kyle had shed his fair share of tears. When he came to the school, he thought those days were behind him.

"You thought," he mocked as he turned away from Kurt's side and walked to the door.

The school was completely silent, with only the distant ticking of the grandfather clock as it kept time. But then, after the Blip, the school was typically pretty quiet anyway. Quiet except for the occasional...

Crying. Who's crying?

Kyle followed the sound of distant sobs until he reach a dorm room near the end of the long hallway. He didn't bother to knock. There was no need. This was
Jean and Lorna's room. He dropped the bedding on the floor against the wall and reached for the handle.

The two girls sat on Lorna's bed. Through the dim light of the hall, Kyle could see that Jean was holding Lorna, consoling her while she cried. With Jean's vibrant red hair and Lorna's green hair, Kyle had often called them his mermaids.

Jean looked over her shoulder and locked eyes with Kyle and smiled softly at him. He shut the door behind him and sat down on Lorna's other side. Together, he and Jean held her while she cried.

"I keep...I just keep seeing their faces," Lorna said after she finally came back to herself.

Kyle nodded in understanding. Lorna had been in a study group with some of the younger students when the Blip happened. Every single one of them had vanished in a cloud of dust.

"Jaden was the last to go," Lorna said in a clearer voice. "I'll never...I'll never forget when she realized it was happening to her too. She looked at me for help. But I couldn't..."

"None of us could, Lorna," Jean spoke in a level voice. "None of us could have done anything."

"That isn't true," Kyle muttered and Jean threw him a cautionary look.

"I'll never forget how afraid I was that I would be going next," Lorna said.

In Kyle's memory, that was one of the scariest parts. Not knowing. Holding his breath and waiting to be unmade while everyone around him turned to dust.

"I'm sorry," Lorna sighed as she pulled the over-sized cardigan up over her pale shoulders. She absently twisted her loose braid of green hair and looked down. " I woke both of you."

"Don't be," Jean said. "We're roomies, remember?"

"I was already up," Kyle offered. When the girls looked at him inquisitively, he shrugged. "Nightmare."

When Lorna settled back into bed, Jean walked out of the room with Kyle.

"Early morning laundry?" Jean asked as Kyle gathered up his bedding.

"Yeah. I sweat all over everything. It was an intense nightmare. Now I can't sleep. So I'm just going to stay up."

"You want company?"

After putting his laundry in the wash, Kyle and Jean went downstairs and into the kitchen to find Jean's boyfriend, Scott, standing at the island with a mug of coffee in hand. He looked at them through the red lenses of his protective glasses and something like a smile touched his face.

"I guess insomnia's contagious," Scott said as he turned and walked to the coffee pot to fill two more mugs.

"Lorna was pretty inconsolable for a little while," Jean explained.

"Yeah," Scott muttered as he looked down into his coffee.

Though his eyes were forever concealed by his protective glasses, his face maintained a handsomeness that was pronounced by a prominent jawline and full lips. Kyle could see Jean's attraction, though he often felt that Scott's personality was cold and distant where Jean was open and personable. He supposed that was why their relationship worked.

"Hank and I were talking," Scott said in a level voice. "We were talking about having a memorial service for everyone."

Jean bowed her head and nodded. "I think that's a good idea. Maybe it would...help..."

Kyle shook his head. "Doing something before this happened would have helped."

"Kyle," Scott said in a firm voice as he looked over at him. "Can we please not do this again?"

"What?" Kyle asked defensively. "I can't be the only one thinking it. We have powers. Just like a lot of the heroes who fought Thanos."

"Yeah, and they still lost," Jean said. "Along with an entire army."

Kyle loudly set his mug down and started to pace the kitchen. "Okay. So maybe we might not have stood a chance. But now we'll never know if that's true or not."

"Professors Xavier and Lensherr founded this school as a safe place for mutants," Scott said. "They wanted to make a home for all of us. A place where we could be safe and learn how to control our powers. Not so that we could become superheroes. It's why they worked so hard to make sure we stayed a secret."

"I know the speech," Kyle snapped as he turned to walk out. He stopped on the threshold and looked over his shoulder. "Just so you know- they gave it better than you do."

After returning to his room, Kyle changed into some running shorts and a hoodie. He laced up his sneakers and left the mansion to run the trails on the grounds. As he walked out and began to joke across the lawn, he thought about the first day he'd come to the mansion.

"It's a safe place," Xavier had explained. "A school for you to learn how to control your gift."

"A home for you," Lensherr added. "And a family."

Home. He could still remember the shiver of delight that word had brought. Having abandoned at an early age, Kyle had lived on the streets for a time. Cold, vulnerable, and scared. His mutant powers had surfaced, compounding his terror tenfold. But when Xavier and Lensherr appeared and brought him to the mansion, he felt he'd finally found that place where he could lay his head without fear. He'd found a place for people like him. And meeting the others had fed that need for family he'd always felt deep within. In time, the professors became father figures to him.

"But you're both gone now," he muttered before breaking into a full run. He pumped his arms for speed, ignoring the burn of cold morning air in his lungs. He pushed himself to move as fast as he could, not caring if he wore himself out. As he ran, tears streamed down his face. Then the crying turned into furious screaming.

When he reached the tree line he came to a halt, bent forward and put his hands on his knees. He gasped for air as he continued to cry. He felt like he'd lost all control of himself.

Control. That had always been the goal. Especially where his mutant power was concerned. He'd always been afraid of the destructive power he possessed ever since it surfaced. He'd always avoided anything that might trigger his control to accidentally slip. When Xavier and Lansherr had found him, that changed. They taught him how that coveted control of the power, how to refine it, make it less destructive. But on that morning, with a head and heart too full of pain, he surrendered control and let it all out with a fury.

In one fluid motion, he stood up, focused his mind, and a rush of telekinetic energy spilled off of him. The energy looked like blue steam as it flew off of him in a sheet. It gathered in on itself and formed a spike as it moved through the air. It reached the trees and tore through the first one, bursting through the other side with a deafening snap.

Then he threw another. And another.

Soon an entire row of trees had been reduced to matchsticks. Leaves danced through the air as he fell to the ground and pulled his knees into his chest. So arrested by his pain, he didn't notice until he felt a presence near him. Opening his eyes, he saw that Jean had followed him outside and was kneeling on the ground beside him.

"Kyle. It's going to be okay."

Kyle sat up and embraced her.

"As long as we all still have each other, it's going to be okay," Jean said as she stroked Kyle's hair.

He wished he shared her optimism. But he'd seen the world's teeth before. He knew how sharp they could be. Coming to the mansion, he'd thought perhaps he might experience a softer side of the world. But that was an illusion

Later, when night fell upon the mansion once more, Kyle packed his bags and he left. He left the emptiness, memories, and hopes for a better future. He left the remains of his family. As he drove out of the garage, he thought about them and began to cry again because leaving them hurt so bad. He pictured all of them, the ones who remained. Hank was probably conducting some sort of experiment in the science lab. Lorna would be reading one of her sentimental romance novels in the library. Jean and Scott were probably holding each other close, grateful that neither of them was among the lost.

Kyle felt guilty for leaving the way he did. He knew that it would hurt them. He knew that it was important that those who remained stuck together through this. But he couldn't face another day in that tomb that used to be home. He couldn't remain there, surrounded by memories of people they hadn't even bothered to lift a finger to protect.

Jean and Scott were probably right when they said it likely wouldn't matter if they tried to help or not. But they hadn't even tried. That was what hurt Kyle so much. By remaining in the shadows, kept secret by the protective measures Nick Fury had put into place long ago, they had given up without a fight.

He thought about everyone who was lost and wanted to ask Xavier and Lensherr was it worth it? But they weren't even there to answer him. So he would go forth and find his own answers in life.

Chapter Text

Steve had been filled with apprehension when he'd first entered the large group room on Empire State University's campus. Captain America, the supposed hero, was about to enter a room where grieving people were meeting to discuss their pain. A pain that he and his team hadn't been able to keep from happening. He stood on the threshold, ball cap hiding his features, fists shoved into his jacket, and he looked at the room. A circle of chairs was arranged in the center and there was a table off to the side that was covered in plates of various snacks and beverages. Adults of differing ages and backgrounds stood around in various little groups, socializing as they waited for group to begin. Steve watched them and felt incredibly conscious of how they would perceive him once they discovered who he was. And they would. He had no illusions about that. He knew that a ball cap and civilian clothes wouldn't hide who he was from them.

What are they going to do when they see who you are, Rogers?

His nerve lost, Steve promptly turned around to leave. It was a bad idea, one he hadn't thought through. But as he turned, he collided with an older woman, causing her to drop the grocery sack she was carrying, spilling various fruits on the floor.

"Sorry, ma'am," he uttered as his good manners extinguished his sudden urge to walk away and he knelt to pick up the apples and oranges as they rebelliously rolled away.

"It's alright," the woman said as she knelt to help. When the all of fruit had been placed back in the bag, she smiled up at him and Steve read the kindness in her face. "I'm Dorothy," she said as she reached a hand out.

"I'm..."

"Steve Rogers," she said with a knowing smile. "I know. My grandson has all of your action figures." She paused and shut her eyes as emotion swept over her. "I mean...he had. He's...he's gone now."

Steve lowered his head. "I was just leaving," he said. "I'm sorry for the accident and for...interrupting. And everything else."

Dorothy scowled and reached out for his arm. "Please don't go, Steve," she said in a voice that sounded like home cooking and love.

Steve smiled. "I should. I don't...I don't need to be here."

Dorothy clicked her tongue. "But I think you do, Steve. You think just because you're a hero you don't need a little help sometimes?"

"No," Steve admitted. "I need help. A lot of help. But I don't think I should be here because..."

"Because you feel responsible for what happened?" Dorothy finished for him.

Steve hung his head, unable to think of anything to say to that.

"You listen to me, Steve," Dorothy said in a soft voice that managed to sound firm but gentle all at once. "I saw the drone footage, same as anyone else. I saw you fight tooth and nail to save the world." She paused and touched her cheek to catch the tear. "I saw you...hold that bastard's hand back. I'll never forget the look on your face as you stared up at him. So defiant. So...powerful. So selfless. But that's you, isn't it?"

"I don't know...I don't know who I am anymore."

"Sure you do. And if you don't know, honey, I'll remind you. You're Steven Grant Rogers. Captain America. The frail boy who became a super soldier. And stood up to the bullies of the world. Laid his life down for freedom. Everyone knows about the sacrifices you've made."

Steve felt emotion welling within him. He didn't even know this woman personally and her words were moving him.

"You're strong. You're fast. And you can fight. But none of that can equal what's in here," Dorothy said as she touched Steve's chest. "You have a good heart, son. Always have. But it can break like anyone else's. And I know it's broken now. So, please, join my group. We'd love to have you."

Dorothy offered her arm and Steve smiled in spite of himself and accepted it. Together they walked back into the room as the others took their seats.

"Good evening, everyone," Dorothy greeted the group. She then turned to Steve. "I want to introduce our newest member. This is Steve Rogers. And he's come to share and listen with us. So I want everyone to give him a warm welcome."

Steve had expected pitchforks and torches. But when everyone stood up and clapped he could feel the floor shifting underneath him. And older man grabbed a chair from along the wall and brought it over for him and Steve took a seat in the circle.

"Now then," Dorothy said as she set the fruit out and then took a seat next to Steve. "Group is now in session. And since we have a new member I want to go over the guidelines."

Steve learned that everything discussed in group was confidential. That dignity was honored and no member should ever feel humiliated or abused in any way. She discussed the importance of allowing everyone to speak uninterrupted. With that task out of the way, Dorothy warmly asked who would like to share first that evening.

Having opted to simply listen during his first session, Steve learned a great deal about the people around him. As he listened to each person speak their truth, he felt himself being moved by their openness with one another. He was so engrossed in everyone's stories that when a box of Kleenex was offered to him he hadn't even realized he'd started to cry. He saw their pain and their sorrow as they talked about the loved ones they'd lost. But, more than that, he saw the unity, strength and tenacity of the human spirit. Faced with tragedy, these people had come together to support one another. To be each others strength. He felt humbled in their presence.

"I'm glad I stayed," he confessed as he sat in a booth across from Dorothy at the nearby cafe. "I needed that."

"I'm glad you did too. And I hope you'll come back again," Dorothy replied.

And he did. He made it a habit to show up early each week so he could help put snacks and drinks out and set up the circle of chairs. He would carry things in for other members. He even- much to Natasha's amusement- started preparing snacks to take to group.

"You are so incredibly adorable, Rogers," she said as she sat on the kitchen counter and watched Steve arrange a fruit plate and mix up a sweet dip to sit in the center of the arrangement.

Steve grinned as he placed the plate in a container for transport. "It's...I don't know...it's been good for me. I like it."

"I'm glad."

"You could go with me, you know?" Steve offered despite knowing the answer he'd get.

Natasha shook her head. "Oh, no. I'm good living vicariously through you."

As he attended more groups, Steve found himself becoming more vocal. There were occasions when he would speak for great lengths of time while the others listened, captivated. Then he'd look up at the clock and smile as he sheepishly apologized for taking up so much time. But the others never seemed to mind. In fact, there were several occasions where people would approach him individually during breaks to thank him.

"You bring me hope," Fiona, a mother of three whose husband was taken in the Blip, told him. "The way you speak. I look forward to it every week."

As time progressed, Steve's natural affinity for leadership made him a person that the others looked to. It was in those moments that he felt he'd found himself again. He felt needed. And he felt that he was giving back to the world in some way. He wasn't throwing his shield around, but what he was doing wasn't of less importance. He rallied his group just the same as he once rallied the Avengers.

And it felt good.

Empire State University greeted Kyle with its sweeping campus and tall buildings and he couldn't help but feel a sense of pride when he compared who he was now to the person he'd been when he'd last been in the city. He'd left a street urchin and returned as a more polished and educated young man.

His education at Xavier's Institute for the Gifted was recognized by every college as being first-rate. This meant he was a candidate for practically any school of his choosing. And the college courses he'd taken at the Institute meant he was already advanced enough in his college education that he could be on a fast track to a degree. And the major he'd chosen for himself was education.

It wasn't lost on Kyle that Xavier and Lensherr were the inspiration for his choice. Despite his resentment at their inactivity during Thanos's attack in Wakanda, he couldn't deny their influence. They had shown him the transformative power of education. He had fallen in love with the alchemy of learning and how it could transform someone like him just as surely as lead could be turned to gold. Higher learning, he had decided, would be his means of coping. He couldn't change what had happened in the past; he could only shape his future now.

He took to college with ease. Hard work wasn't foreign to him, though making connections was something he met with great resistance. He opted for the solitude of his studies and quiet walks on campus rather than time with his classmates. In fact, any time the thought crossed his mind it was immediately met with a solid brick wall. People were transient, he knew that. The family that was supposed to love him had seen fit to abandon him. The majority of the family he'd found had vanished.

In this life, I only have myself to rely on.

He knew this was a sad way of looking at things, but it was true in his mind. He had to defend himself from feeling that ache again. And while he knew that Jean, Lorna, Scott and Hank were still alive and well, he told himself this was a tenuous thing. If one good thing came out of the blip it was the realization that people he cared about could be taken from him in the blink of an eye.

He lost himself in his education. He attended every class and filled his days and nights with his studies. He was ravenous in his pursuit of learning, but not just because he wanted knowledge; he needed to distract himself. He would go hours at a time with his gaze fixed on his laptop screen. He would read until his eyes burned. Sometimes he would be so consumed in studying that he wouldn't realize he'd not eaten until his stomach would loudly declare its hunger.

But there were times when restlessness would prompt him to come up for air. During these times, he would walk. He would walk around campus, taking in all of the sights and sounds, grateful for the distraction they gave him. But sometimes even this couldn't block the stream of consciousness that always took him back to that day of dust.

"Kyle," Kurt gasped as he stopped kicking the soccer ball and raised his hand. And Kyle saw it then- Kurt's hand was fading to dust.

"No," Kyle muttered under his breath. "No. Not this."

He picked up his pace and entered the nearest building. It was fairly quiet as he walked down the hall, with only the faint sound of voices in the distance. But as he progressed, he could hear the voices more clearly and recognized what it was.

A group therapy session.

He paused and listened despite the sense that he was eavesdropping.

"I haven't tried dating anyone since I lost Ashley in the Blip," a young woman's voice said. "But I finally worked up the courage and have a date with a girl named Tanya this weekend."

The sound of applause rose up and Kyle felt even more like a voyeur. He quickly turned away to walk back the way he came. As he spun around, he suddenly collided with a figure that had somehow managed to come up behind him without his noticing it. In his haste to steady himself, he lost his balance. That was when a strong pair of arms encircled him, stopping his fall.

At first he could see only the chest of his savior. It was a man- a very muscular man. He was wearing a snug, light blue sweater and smelled fresh and clean. As Kyle's eyes moved up the broad chest and looked into his face, he was met with the shocking realization that Captain America was currently cradling him on his arms. And that he was far more handsome in person.

His features were clean cut, with a strong and defined jaw. His pale skin was smooth, aside from the day-old stubble, and he had classically handsome features that instantly gave Kyle pause. He had thick blond hair that was cut short and parted, with the bangs brushed back from his smooth forehead. His nose was straight and dignified, and he had full, pillowy lips that were currently parted in an expression of concern. The man's blue eyes were equally concerned as they searched Kyle's face, clearly looking for signs of distress.

"Sorry about that," the man said in a gentle voice. "I didn't mean to startle you."

After succumbing briefly to the arresting beauty of the man, Kyle found his voice again. "It's okay. I should have been paying attention to where I was going."

It was at that moment that Kyle realized that this man was holding him as if they have been dancing. He also noticed that he had instinctively reached out when he'd been falling and was currently clutching his firm chest. Warmth radiated from the man, and Kyle suddenly felt very hot. "Sorry," he stammered as he quickly pulled out of his arms and took a step back.

"No worries," the man said with tone of voice and a smile that conveyed a kindness that made Kyle feel immediately at ease. "I'm Steve," he said as he extended a hand.

"I know," Kyle said as he slowly reached out and accepted the handshake. "I'm Kyle," he offered in a tone that sounded more clipped than he intended. Steve's hand closed around his, larger and very warm.

I wonder what those hands can do.

"It's nice to meet you, Kyle." Steve looked over Kyle's shoulder and down the hall. "Were you thinking about going to group?"

Kyle adamantly shook his head. "No. No, I was just walking around on a study break. I'm a student here."

Steve lifted an eyebrow and smiled. "Students don't need therapy?"

"I mean, I'm sure some of us do," Kyle said, stammering once again. "But I was just wandering around."

Steve studied his face and Kyle felt like he was an open book before this man. "You know, when I first came to group I had a similar situation."

Kyle waited for Steve to elaborate, watched how his blue eyes became reflective. "I changed my mind about attending. I was turning around to leave and I bumped into one of the members on her way in."

Kyle slowly nodded, unable to think of anything to say.

"Anyway, she could tell I needed to be here and that I was hesitant. Nervous. She put me at ease and invited me in." He paused and smiled and Kyle appreciated how the smile touched his eyes. "So I kind of see all of this deja vu as a sign that you're meant to come back to group with me."

Well, you wanted a distraction, Kyle thought to himself. Here he is. A very, very hot distraction.

"I'm not nervous," Kyle said despite being immediately conscious of just how incredibly nervous he sounded as Steve smiled knowingly. "And I'm not hesitant about anything. Just...wandering. That's all."

Steve nodded and jammed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. "Well, I guess not all who wander are lost, right?"

Kyle folded his arms over his chest. "Right."

Steve's smile deepened. "But, if you ever find yourself lost after all, you're always welcome. We meet every week around this time."

Kyle nodded briskly, conscious of how tempted he was to go with Steve. He felt annoyed that all it took was handsome face- a very handsome face- to tempt him to leave the very structured regimen he'd established for himself. "Thanks. I'll think about it."

Steve nodded. "Well. Enjoy the rest of your study break."

With a tight smile, Kyle quickly walked away.

Steve remained in the hallway for just a little while longer and watched as Kyle retreated. He'd felt guilty for accidentally starling the younger man and nearly causing him to fall and hurt himself. He felt even more guilty for the discomfort he'd clearly caused by inviting him to group. He'd seen something in the younger man though. Something that reminded him of his first time attending group. He read the reluctance and sadness in him. Although sadness wasn't entirely unusual these days, his gut told him that Kyle's went a little deeper than that.

Reign it in, hero. He said he didn't want to. You offered if he changed his mind. End of story.

But as Steve took a seat once more, he found himself hoping that this wasn't the end of the story. All through the rest of group and even afterward, he found his thoughts were circling Kyle. As he drank coffee with some of the group at the nearby cafe- as was a custom for their group- he kept picturing Kyle standing there in the hallway. He was of medium height and leanly built- the body of an athletic runner. He had been dressed in jeans and an ESU sweatshirt. From behind, Steve could see that his hair was light brown and cut short. But when Kyle had unexpectedly spun around and hurried back the way he'd come they'd collided and Steve was able to see his face. Momentarily captive in Steve's arms, he was given the chance to study the beauty of Kyle's features.

Deep green eyes were the first feature Steve noticed. He practically drowned in them upon first seeing them. He took in the tan of Kyle's skin and a face that possessed a striking beauty that would instantly set Kyle apart in a crowd.

Guilt hit him like a truck as soon as he realized where his head was going. Bucky was dead. And although he knew he'd eventually have to find some way to move on, the pain of losing him was still too fresh. He had loved Bucky. His former friend turned lover. The man who'd always looked out for him when he was too frail to do it himself. The man who had died before his eyes only to resurface decades later as a slave to Hydra. A man he needed to rescue. A man he needed to save.

In that moment, Steve found himself faced with something unsettling. He contemplated the caramel-colored surface of his coffee as the question suddenly struck him like an atom bomb.

Did I feel obligated or was it love that made me do those things for Bucky?

He clamped down on that thought, stifling it as soon as it surfaced. Of course he loved Bucky.

Kyle exited the building as if it were about to explode.

I just fell into Captain America's arms and he invited me to group therapy.

Group therapy wasn't exactly something new to Kyle. When he'd first arrived at the mansion, Xavier had explained to him that all of the students were encouraged to meet regularly.

"Talking is optional," Xavier had said. "But, at the very least, I think listening might help you."

Though resistant to the idea of sharing with others, he had felt he owed his benefactors for their kindness. Kyle had been a lost and confused thirteen year old homeless boy. A filthy penny that the professors had picked up and polished. He'd gone from sleeping wherever was dry and safe to having a real bed of his own. And food he didn't have to steal.

And so, sitting among the others, he listened to their stories and learned more about them. He learned that he wasn't alone in his feelings. He learned that there were others who had experienced similar traumas and fears. When he was finally ready to share with the group it had been like a drug. Kyle had never partaken in that sort of thing- though the streets were teeming with it- but he imagined that what he felt at the time was the nearest thing to addiction. He found he couldn't stop. Inspired by the openness and the sense of understanding, he became so open with the others that bonds began to form.

When he'd first arrived, he attended class and adhered to the rule of everyone eating in the dining hall. Beyond that, he stuck to his room. But after he started to speak up? He found himself immersed in friendships he'd never imagined he could have. Alongside Jean, Scott, Hank, Bobby and Warren, he'd formed what Xavier and Lensherr fondly referred to as their first class.

Soon they were joined by more students. More castoffs, frightened of their mutant powers and in need of safety. Kyle had welcomed them all with open arms. The family he'd finally found was so vital to his existence. And it had all truly started with group therapy.

That's why you won't do it, he told himself as he walked through the big green space in the center of campus. You're afraid you'll find it again and it'll be taken from you. He clenched his jaw in frustration and shoved the thought aside. He didn't need to remind himself.

A large memorial loomed ahead and he paused in front of it. In the center of a big circle of concrete there stood a large, abstract statue that had been sculpted to honor the dead. Hundreds of candles burned around and on it. The sight of letters taped to its pedestal, teddy bears and flowers brought tears to his eyes.

Scott had suggested a memorial service for the dead. Standing in front of the large memorial, Kyle understood now, more than ever, why he couldn't take part in that. He didn't want to believe that they were gone. Going to a memorial would feel like closing the book on their lives.

"You're not gone," he whispered into the night. "I refuse to believe you're gone."

But the the wind howled through the trees as if to tell him "you're a fool."

Chapter Text

Several months had passed since Steve had met Kyle. Though he'd not seen him since that evening, he hadn't forgotten his face. He thought about those green eyes at random parts of his day. He saw the tragic tinge to his face whenever he daydreamed. He told himself that he knew what was happening. It was that urge to help and the sense of defeat because he hadn't been able to. He felt it with Kyle just as surely as he felt it with Thor.

"Not everyone wants help," Natasha advised him. "And sometimes they do and they just aren't ready to ask."

Steve chewed his lip in frustration. The prior week, he'd tried to get Thor to attend a group session and it had gone terribly wrong. And now the thunder god had taken off. For good.

Nat smiled softly and laid a hand on Steve's shoulder. "You try too hard to save everyone, you know that? You ever think about saving yourself from time to time?"

Steve shook his head. "I'm not built that way, Nat. You know me."

Natasha nodded in understanding. "Yes, I know you. But I also know that people have to want help. You extended the offer to Thor. Only he can decide what he wants to do with that. That's all you can do for anyone." She sat down across from him and took his hands in hers. "Everyone has to grieve in their own way, Steve. And in their own time. Thor is locked in the depression stage."

"I think I preferred his anger stage," Steve huffed.

"Anger is something we'd expect to see on him, that's for sure. But Thor has lost so much, even before the Blip. Losing Dean? That was..." Natasha stopped and took a deep breath to steady herself and keep from crying. "Losing Dean broke him."

Steve smiled and reached for the tissues because Natasha was crying anyway.

"Dean was the heart of our team in a lot of ways, you know?" Natasha said as she dabbed at her eyes.

Steve nodded in agreement. "He had a way about him, didn't he?"

"You know, I'd do anything to bring them all back."

"I know, Nat. All of us would."

She looked out the window and then looked back at Steve, her eyes blazing with intensity. "I mean it."

"Nat..."

"Watching Thor suffer. Seeing Sue prepare to raise her son without his father. Seeing the mass memorials every single fucking day. If it meant sacrificing my own life to stop it all, I'd do it. No questions asked."

Steve went silent and the two of them sat and held each others hands for a while.

"You're going to be late for your group," Natasha finally said as she pulled away and stood up.

"You could always go with me, you know?"

Natasha grinned. "Not my style, Rogers. You know I'd rather work anyway."

Natasha had done a deep dive into the Avengers in recent days, working alongside several other heroes who had survived the Blip. It was her way of healing, Steve knew.

As he drove his bike away from the compound, he contemplated how people cope. He threw a wish out into the universe that everyone could find some measure of peace. But he knew that there would be no peace for some. Coping with what had happened was a process of rolling a boulder uphill, only for it to inevitably come crashing back down.

Please come home. We miss you. I miss you.

The text message from Jean sent a spike of hurt ripping through Kyle. He stood against the wall outside of the classroom as his classmates walked out and just stared at the screen before typing.

I can't. I'm sorry. I just need space. I need to be away from the reminders. It hurts too much.

At least tell me you're ok. I need to know that.

I'm fine. Just trying to figure things out.

Kyle slid the phone into his pocket and began to walk at a brisk pace. He needed to move. He needed air. He needed some sense of going somewhere. He didn't know what it was that propelled him to walk into that building and down that hall to that room. But suddenly he was standing in front of the door and looking in through the window at the group of people who sat in a circle in the center of the room. He could see Steve from where he was standing. His back was to him and he was listening while someone spoke.

Kyle lifted his hand to the doorknob and froze there, his palm hovering over the metal. That was when an older woman facing the door stood and walked over to it.

"Good evening," she said in a soft whisper. "I'm Dorothy."

"I'm Kyle," he replied in an equally soft voice.

"Kyle. It's nice to meet you," she said as she laid a hand on his shoulder. "Would you like to come in, Kyle?"

He nodded his head before giving it any thought.

"Don't worry, you won't have to talk if you don't want to. You can just come and in and sit with us, okay?"

Kyle nodded his head again and felt as if he wasn't in control as he allowed himself to be led into the room. It was as if some other force was guiding him in that moment. Part of him wanted to resist it, to pull away from this while another sought this chance for connection. Before either side could declare itself, the decision was made for him as he opted to do the socially acceptable thing and sit in the chair that was offered to him. As he settled in, he threw a furtive glance at Steve and found that he was looking his way. He smiled and it was soft and somewhat satisfied.

The current speaker was the girl who had been talking about dating again. Her name was Rachel, Kyle found out. He also found out that Rachel had gone on several dates with Tanya.

"She's thinking about maybe joining us for group," Rachel added.

"We'd love to have her," Dorothy said with a bright smile. "Tell her she's welcome whenever she wants.

The others nodded in approval and the conversations went on. Kyle sat in stillness and simply listened the same way he had in that first group at the school. He listened as a roomful of people bared their souls. They spoke of their fears, their sorrows, and the little victories they'd amassed in the wake of the Blip. While he listened, Kyle found himself deriving a certain comfort from merely sitting and listening. It was like being a passenger in a car with a driver you can trust completely. He felt a sense of autopilot and the restlessness that normally plagued him seemed to subside.

"We have time for one more share tonight," Dorothy said as she turned and smiled warmly at Kyle. The others looked at him, but it was Steve's gaze that he felt the most.

"My name is Kyle," he said as if he wasn't quite sure. "Kyle Hensley. I'm a student here. Majoring in education. I want to be a college professor. Teach American history."

The others watched him with encouraging smiles. He looked down at his lap for a second as he tried to think of something else to say. When he looked back up, he saw only the faces of everyone the Blip had taken and felt his nerve drain out of him.

"And I...just wanted to listen tonight. Thank you."

The others said words of encouragement but Kyle didn't even hear it. He wanted to leave. He made for the door and started to walk down the hall when he heard Steve calling his name.

Pretend you don't hear him and keep walking.

But Steve was a fast mover and quickly caught up to Kyle, then slowed down to match his pace. "Some of us are going to grab coffee if you want to come with us."

Having reached the exit, Kyle stopped walking and turned to face Steve completely. "Didn't group just end?"

Steve stuck his hands in his pockets and smiled. "Yeah, but we like to go out after and have some light conversation. Especially after the things we talk about in group."

Kyle nodded his head but didn't say anything.

"Anyway, you'd be welcome to join us," Steve offered.

Kyle rolled the idea around in his head for what felt like an eternity before finally letting out a sigh. "Sure. I haven't met my caffeine quota for the day anyway."

The second Kyle had entered the circle and taken a seat, Steve felt a pulse of excitement and a sense of victory flowing through him. He'd just about given up on the idea that Kyle would ever actually attend group. But there he was.

Steve was stricken, once again, by just how attractive he was. He also noticed how hesitant and uncomfortable he was. But as group progressed, Kyle appeared to relax into something like comfort that was only interrupted when Dorothy asked if he wanted to speak. The lost look that fell upon him ignited an urge within Steve to protect him. He didn't know Kyle at all but he was fairly certain the younger man would probably resist any attempts to protect him whatsoever. There was a fierce, closed off energy about him. Like a door slamming shut in your face. But Steve had seen glimpses of what may be behind the door. It made him want to keep it from closing, get a better look. That probably wouldn't work out. If anything, Kyle would probably just seal himself off completely.

As Steve walked to the cafe, he couldn't help but remember the time Dean had introduced him to Bruce Springsteen.

"Listen to this song," Dean urged as he selected a track. "You have to hear this one. It'll change your life."

And Secret Garden started to play and Steve was turned into a believer.

As Steve walked into the cafe and joined the others at a table in the back, he found himself wondering why he was even thinking like this. Was it because he was lonely? Mystified by the enigma of Kyle? Drawn to him to him as a person to save?

Maybe all of the above, Steve decided as he took a seat and tried not to watch the door. He settled into lighthearted conversation but his head wasn't there. And then, as a cluster of students hustled out of the door, he spotted Kyle moving against them to enter the cafe. Standing, he waved to him and tried to restrain his excitement.

Cool it, Rogers, he told himself as Kyle took a seat across from and immediately began to study the menu. Steve carried on conversation with the others but was conscious of Kyle's demeanor. There was a resilience to him that masked his fragility. There seemed to be a hesitation to engage and yet there was clearly some desire to do so.

Overall, Steve thought, he looked like a guy who had been beaten up by the world.

The evening pressed on, and Steve watched as Kyle gradually opened up. But this action only went so far. He restricted conversation to general discussions. While others may offer personal details, Kyle kept things very light. He dodged questions about his personal life so nimbly that it was almost unnoticeable, but not to Steve. When the conversation ended and everyone had decided it was time to call it a night, Steve and the others had learned next to nothing about Kyle.

"You want some company on your way back to campus?" Steve asked as he walked out of the cafe and fell in next to Kyle.

"You don't have to. It's not far," Kyle said in a distant voice.

Steve shrugged his shoulders. "Well, when I get back home there won't be anyone to talk to. Bruce will be in his lab. Nat will be avenging. Or they'll be off somewhere together."

"What about the other Avengers? The ones that aren't...". He stopped and shook his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say it like that."

Steve smiled at this tiny crack in Kyle's armor. "It's okay. I think everyone's still trying to figure all of this out."

"No manual for what to do when half of the population turns into dust, is there?" Kyle asked.

Steve's smile broadened. Humor looked good on Kyle. "Yeah. And even if there was, people are too complex."

"Yeah," Kyle agreed.

The path they were taking to Kyle's dorm took them through the memorial on campus. As they approached, the sound of crying could be heard. A woman was kneeling in front of a letter she had just taped to the side of the monument and was lighting a candle. Steve looked over at Kyle and watched as tears formed in his eyes and reflected the light of the flickering candles in them.

"It's okay..." Steve began.

"No it isn't," Kyle snapped, wiping at his tears. It was obvious he didn't appreciate his vulnerability in that moment. "It not okay. It never will be."

Steve stopped walking and turned to face him completely. "It has to be," he said, and he wasn't sure if he was trying to convince Kyle or himself. "It can't...it can't always be like this."

Kyle shook his head and hugged himself against the chill of the night. "No. And talking about it, doing circle time and going out for coffee won't fix anything. They're all still gone, okay? Wallowing in it with people won't fix it."

"But it's better than wallowing in it on your own," Steve calmly responded.

Kyle smiled bitterly. "Listen, I really appreciate what you'are doing. And I appreciate the invite and the warm welcome. But I think I'll be better off wallowing alone."

Steve scowled. "Kyle, people need each other in times like this."

Kyle shook his head. "No!" He loudly fired back. "You don't get to tell me what I need just because you're Captain America!"

"Kyle, I wasn't trying to..."

"Is that why this whole thing is so important to you? Is that why inviting me and wanting me to be part of this is so important? Because you and your team failed?! You couldn't stop Thanos so now you need someone to save and this is the best you can do!"

Steve closed his mouth and watched Kyle, knowing this was what the young man needed. Anger, he thought to himself as he watched Kyle's wrath unfurl upon him. He needs to feel this. He has every right.

"I don't need anyone to save me," Kyle concluded before stomping away into the night.

Steve watched but didn't follow. He watched until Kyle had disappeared completely and then turned and walked to the memorial. He laid a hand on the stone and stared at all of the candles. His heart raced as the slap of his failure stung deep in his soul. Fresh tears flooded his vision and turned the flames into a flickering puddle.

You try too hard to save everyone, you know that? You ever think about saving yourself from time to time?

"But saving people," Steve said in a small, tremulous voice. "That's my job."

He put his face in his hands and wept.

Chapter Text

Sleep was a miserable thing for Kyle when it finally found him. Guilt over his outburst with Steve followed his every move. Ordinarily he could lose himself in his studies, if only for a little while. But even that couldn't stop his thoughts from circling back to his heated exchange with Steve.

"You were an asshole," he sighed aloud as he rubbed his eyes and closed his laptop. Steve had been trying to help. Whether that came from some hero complex or guilt over the failure to stop Thanos didn't really matter.

You're not angry at him. You're angry at the situation. You're angry at yourself.

That, Kyle knew, was exactly what Professor Xavier would say if he were talking to him now. And that was probably all very true. Kyle knew himself well enough to know that he could be a bit of a hot head. He knew that he could sometimes let passion lead the way rather than logic. For better or for worse. But tonight it had been for the worse.

As he settled into his bed and stared up at the ceiling, he kept seeing Steve's face in it. Those blue eyes, so earnest and sorrowful, seemed to haunt him. The memory of their conversation at the memorial generated a tug of war inside of him. Part of him longing for connection and community while another part resisted this. As he fell asleep, he told himself that Steve was likely correct when he said that people need each other. No But the other side of the coin told him that he'd been burned too many times.

The day he'd arrived at the mansion, he had no suitcase in hand. No personal belongings aside from the shirt on his back. He stared up at the stately mansion, awe stricken by how large and majestic it was. Then he looked down at his shabby clothes and immediately felt self conscious.

I don't belong here.

Yes you do, a voice spoke inside his head. You are just as deserving as anyone else.

He looked up at Xavier, who stood right beside him and the Professor smiled. "Forgive me," he said with a warm smile. "I don't use my power to pry. But I couldn't help but notice you're worry."

Kyle looked down at his shoes and shrugged his shoulders.

"Listen to me." Xavier knelt in front of him so that he had to meet his gaze. "This place can be a home for you. A place for you to feel safe. Everyone deserves to feel safe and welcome."

Kyle looked back up at the mansion, saw a figure spying through the curtains on the second story, and felt like he was underneath a microscope.

"No one is going to pass judgement over you, Kyle," Lensherr said from beside him.

Then, with Xavier and Lensherr on either side, Kyle walked up the steps and through the double doors. The great hall met them with its hardwood floor, ornate carpets, and lavish furnishings. As Kyle turned in a circle to take in the scale of the room, some teenagers began to walk down the steps and into the hall.

"Kyle. I want you to meet the other students who live here," Xavier said.

One by one, each of the students introduced themselves to Kyle.

Warren Worthington was the first to greet him. The boy was tall and blond with good looks and a clean cut appearance that made Kyle think of the wealthy children he'd seen in the city. The comparison between himself and Warren made Kyle feel nervous once again. But Warren's kindness and total absence of any judgement soothed this.

Before Kyle could wrap his head around being treated as an equal in the eyes of someone like Warren, a bulky boy with dark hair and glasses approached next and introduced himself as Hank McCoy. When Kyle shook hands with him he noticed that Hank's hand was considerably larger than his. Though he lived on the streets, Kyle knew it was impolite to stare, so he kept his eyes on Hank's.

"This is our resident jokester, Bobby," Hank said as he waved a hand at the slight young brunette beside him.

"Good to meet you," Bobby said as he flashed a disarming smile before tilting his head toward the fourth boy in the group. "And on the opposite end of the spectrum from me is Scotty."

"Scott," the boy in question said as he walked up and offered his hand. Kyle noted that Scott was an attractive guy, with neatly styled dark brown hair and a smile build. But the most striking feature had to be the visor he wore over his eyes. The visor completely covered his eyes, going across the front of his face in one continual loop. A red strip served as the lens.

Kyle thought that if he had to wear such a thing he'd likely be a serious sort of person too.

"And I'm Jean," a kind-looking girl with red hair said.

"It's nice to meet all of you," Kyle said in a voice that made the statement seem more like a question.

"We're happy to have you here," Xavier said. "It's a shame we have to go now."

Kyle frowned in confusion. "What do you mean?"

Suddenly, all around him, each person in the hall began to disintegrate before his eyes. Panic strangled him as he spun around in circles, watching as each person became unmade. A vortex of swirling dust surrounded him, obscuring his field of vision as it began to close in around him. He opened his mouth to scream but nothing would come out. Then, horror of horrors, his fingertips began to unravel into dust. He held his hands up and watched helplessly as his dust gradually joined the vortex.

The scream that rose up from Kyle was so loud his ears were ringing when he finally realized where he was and what had happened. He was on his bed, in his dorm. And when he lifted his hands, he stared at them and reassured himself that he was whole.

"Dude, seriously?" His roommate grumbled as he sat up in bed and glared over at him. "Again?"

Kyle steadied his breath and wiped the sweat from his brow. "Fuck off," he fired back before getting up, grabbing his shower things, a change of clothes and leaving.

"Why don't you go and get some fucking therapy, man!?" his roommate shouted after him as he slammed the door.

It was still early enough in the morning that the sun wasn't up yet and he didn't have a class until midday, but Kyle knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep. He never could after a bad nightmare. He entered the shower stall in the communal bathroom instead and resigned himself to starting his day.

"Dennis texted me this morning," a male voice said from outside of Kyle's shower stall. "Said that Kyle dude woke up screaming again."

"He's a fucking weirdo," another voice chimed in. "Dennis should ask to switch dorms. That's what Matt had to do."

I wonder if they'd be talking so much shit if I busted their kneecaps?

Kyle put his head under the spray to drown out the voices and tried to think about something that didn't involve assaulting his classmates with telekinetic force bolts.

I don't need therapy. I just need to tighten my focus. That's all.

"Kyle," Xavier said as he looked across the table at him. "You're not focusing."

Kyle, red in the face and fists clenched, shook his head. "I am focusing," he argued as he stared at the shattered cup that littered the top of the table. "I can't do it."

Xavier's expression softened. "Kyle, sometimes anger can be an asset. It can keep you alive, be a source of strength. But sometimes it can cloud your mind and get in your way."

Kyle sat back in his seat with a huff. "Why does every power lesson have to turn into therapy? I don't need therapy. I just want to learn how to levitate a cup without blowing it up."

Xavier shook his head. "Kyle, my intention isn't to turn every power lesson into therapy. But our powers are often influenced our emotional states. Until you learn how to focus your emotions and use them properly, you'll struggle."

Kyle leaned back in his seat and folded his arms over his chest. "I don't understand how Jean can move things with her mind without even trying. It's effortless for her. It's effortless for everyone else."

Xavier chuckled and wheeled himself around the table until he was beside Kyle. "Do you really believe that, Kyle? That it's effortless for everyone else?"

Kyle shrugged. "I mean, Jean set the table with her mind last night. Hank can jump and climb like he was born doing it."

"All of them have struggled, Kyle. And they still do in their own ways. Jean has telepathic abilities that she cannot use."

Kyle scowled. "What do you mean? She's never said..."

"Because it's incredibly painful for her to talk about it. That power is connected to traumatic memories. In order to shield her mind and protect her sanity, I inserted psychic blockades within her mind. As she grows, I will begin slowly removing them so that she can gradually develop control. When I was very young, I had the same problems. Able to hear everyone's thoughts to the point that I though my mind would split in two.

"Hank has not always had such dexterity," Xavier went on. "There was a time when the only thing he was able to do was run from the bullies. As for Warren, he comes from a family that would sooner hide him away than let the world see him for what he is. Bobby used to freeze everything he touched to the point that he was afraid to interact with anything or anyone. And I don't think I need to explain Scott's circumstances to you, do I?"

Kyle looked down and shook his head.

"So, you see, you aren't the only person here who has struggled. Every one of us had to start somewhere, Kyle."

Kyle let out a deep breath and smiled up at Xavier. "I'm sorry for...yelling. Being angry."

Xavier laid a hand on Kyle's shoulder. "Never apologize for being angry. But don't let it trap you."

The memory of that lesson with Xavier shook something loose in Kyle. It made him think that perhaps Steve was right. Maybe he did need to be able to talk about it. Warning sirens sounded throughout his head, telling him it was a terrible idea to open that door.

"Okay, you idiot," he muttered quietly to himself. "It's not like you have to keep going if you go back once."

His mind made up, he decided that he would go to the group next week with as open a mind as he possibly could. And an apology.

Steve parked his motorcycle in the small parking lot just outside of the building. It was still early for group, but he'd offered to help Dorothy set up the food and drinks for the evening.

"You're a lifesaver, Steve," Dorothy sighed as she stepped out of her minivan and popped the trunk open.

Steve shook his head and picked up several containers of food. "Just as long as I get the first crack at that cheesecake," he said with a mirthful smile.

"You're going to make someone an excellent husband some day," Dorothy chuckled as she opened the door for Steve.

"I don't know about that," Steve said as he walked into the group room and began helping Dorothy arrange everything on the table.

"Can I help with anything?" a familiar voice said from behind them.

Steve, who was just stacking plates and cups, turned around to see that Kyle was standing a few feet away. He wore an Empire State University sweatshirt and some joggers and had a messenger bag slung over his shoulder. His hands were in his pockets and there was a look of uncertainty in his eyes.

"There's a plate of cookies in my passenger seat," Dorothy said. "Thank you, Kyle."

Steve locked eyes with Kyle but kept his expression neutral, then returned his attention to the task at hand. When Kyle returned with the cookies, Dorothy got a phone call and excused herself, leaving the two of them alone.

Steve watched Kyle covertly and noticed how he was fidgeting with the plastic ware. He could see that Kyle was nervous and his first instinct was to say something. But Kyle's behavior last week had set Steve on edge. The confrontation had been jarring. He'd reached out to provide comfort and had been slapped in return.

Kyle noticed the distance Steve was keeping and felt the sharp edge of guilt dragging across him. While Steve was setting out the plastic cups, Kyle moved across from Steve and started to set the cream and sugar packets out beside the coffee. "So," he said in a cautious voice. "Is there always this much food?"

"Usually," Steve said in a clipped tone.

Kyle took one of the sugar packets and gently slapped it against his hand. "Did you bring any of this?"

"The charcuterie board."

Kyle nodded. "Who doesn't love a charcuterie board? Lunchables for adults, right?"

Steve smiled briskly and kept his eyes down as he opened up a packet of paper napkins.

"You probably don't know what lunchables are, do you?"

Steve looked up at him with a weak smile. "Yep. Thor likes them."

Kyle nodded. "That's unexpected."

"Well," Steve said as he folded his arms over his chest. "Sometimes people surprise you."

Kyle took that in and was quiet for a second as the weight of Steve's stare pressed on him. "So, I...I owe you..."

Steve's eyebrows lifted as he studied Kyle's face. "Kyle?" He asked, concerned.

Kyle faltered. He felt his emotion rising up to the surface and tried to keep it at by. He clenched his jaw lost the fight. He started to cry and turned away so Steve wouldn't see. "This is really...disgraceful."

Steve moved quickly around the table and put his hands on Kyle's shoulders. "Hey. Hey, look at me."

"I'm crying in front of Captain America," Kyle muttered.

"What? You think I don't cry?" Steve asked with a light laugh.

Kyle shrugged. "I mean...you're Captain America. An Avenger."

Steve laughed. "Kyle, all of the Avengers cry. Especially these days."

Kyle nodded and tried to put himself back together as Steve grabbed a napkin and dabbed at Kyle's face. He wanted to disappear.

"I don't think I've ever seen anyone look so uncomfortable when they cry," Steve said with a lighthearted smile.

"Yeah."

"You don't like being vulnerable, do you?"

"No."

Steve squeezed his shoulder and caught another tear with the napkin.

"I feel like you're afraid to say much to me because I was such an asshole to you last week," Kyle sniffled.

"Well, you're not wrong," Steve said.

Kyle cleared his throat and met Steve's eyes. "I'm going to start over. I owe you an apology."

Steve smiled, genuine and warm. "Stay for group and go for coffee with us after and I'll forgive you."

When group began, Steve took a seat next to Kyle. The guilt he had been feeling for going off on Steve the week before was soothed by the easy comfort he witnessed around him. But the camaraderie he saw went further than just a friendship shared among people who met weekly; there was a warmth, a connection. There was a sense of home. As he watched them interact like they had known each other all their lives, Kyle couldn't help but think of the only family he'd ever known. He shut his eyes and felt tears escaping.

Steve lifted his hand to place it on Kyle's shoulder but hesitated. He could sense that it wasn't easy for Kyle to allow himself to be seen. He feared he might force him back into himself. Having to question every action he took made him feel simultaneously frustrated yet excited at the challenge in finding new ways to reach a person.

"So," Steve said as he grabbed his chair and Kyle's and took them back to their spots. "Coffee?"

Kyle appreciated how detached Steve was after having seen him cry. It made him feel like he could pretend the vulnerability he had displayed hadn't happened at all. Yet he could feel fatigue creeping up on him. The urge to retreat was immense. "I don't know," he said.

Steve tilted his head. "You don't want to."

Kyle hung his head. "I think I'm going to have to take a rain check."

Steve smiled despite his displeasure. Why do I want him to go to the cafe with me so bad? He looked into Kyle's eyes and felt a rush of something he didn't think he should feel. He sensed an attraction burning inside him and his instinct was to smother it. It's just that you want to help him. That's all.

"I'm sorry," Kyle said, and Steve could tell he meant it.

"Don't be," Steve said. "But I'm holding you to that rain check."

Kyle felt his cheeks flush at the way Steve's voice went a few octaves lower and the way his blue eyes took on a taste of suggestiveness. Despite the desire to go back to his dorm, another desire was competing.

It's been way too long since you got fucked, he lamented. And you think Captain America is giving you bedroom eyes. He's not. Calm down. Just go back to the dorm, jack off in the shower, and go to bed.

Steve senses the message he may be giving and took a step back. Clearing his throat, he smiled and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Well. See you around."

The tonal shift in Steve was a slap of fresh reality for Kyle. You're just a horny idiot and Captain America is really hot. You're emotionally raw and mistaking his kindness for something else. Get yourself together. "Sure. Sounds good," he said aloud.

Steve nodded. "Have a good night," he said before turning and walking away.

Kyle walked the opposite way, his head in turmoil.

Steve walked to the cafe with the others and tried to lose himself in conversation. But the only thing he could think about was those sexy green eyes and just how badly he wanted to lay his hands on Kyle's naked body.

Chapter Text

Kyle could have kicked himself after turning Steve down for coffee after the group meeting. Of course he wanted to go. Steve was attractive and clearly interested in him enough to want to be around him. Even if he'd been a little standoffish at first.

A little standoffish?

He smiled at his understatement, knowing full and well that he had been far more than standoffish. But, to be truthful, it was that very reason that stopped him from accepting Steve's offer for coffee. He was shocked by the display of emotions he was showing around Steve. After keeping things contained for so long, there were cracks showing in his armor. He cried, was angry. It was uncomfortable for him to be so open after a long time of keeping everything in.

And now you want Captain America's dick.

He couldn't deny that he was attracted to Steve. The idea of this set him on edge for a number of reasons. Aside from the obvious fear of attachment and the concern about permitting any sign of vulnerability, he felt there was no way someone like Captain America would find him attractive.

"He's literally a perfect specimen and I'm reading into things," he said as he reflected on the way Steve had spoken to him after group. The intimate sort of tone his voice had taken when he asked for a rain check had undoubtedly made Kyle's body work in overdrive.

"He's not into you," Kyle sighed. "He just wants to help you. That's what he does. He helps everyone. You aren't special. And if you keep following this train of thought you're just going to end up disappointed."

Stop trying to read the future.

He smiled as these words crossed his mind.

"What's your mutant power, Kyle?" Professor Xavier asked one day during one of their power lessons.

Kyle scowled in confusion. "Telekinesis," he said. It was more of a question than a statement.

Xavier grinned at him. "Your mutant power isn't reading the future then?"

"I mean, no."

"Then you've got to stop trying to read the future, Kyle. You're going to exhaust and overwhelm yourself thinking of all the endless possibilities. All of the what if's."

Kyle smiled in spite of himself at the memory. As much as he resented Xavier for the uninvolved approach to Thanos, he certainly couldn't deny the paternal role he had filled.

And he keeps advising me beyond the grave.

He came to a halt just in front of his dorm building and let out a deep sigh. "I really hope I don't regret this decision," he muttered before turning back around.

Steve sat at a table with some of the others and stared absently at the surface of his coffee. The others had been deep in conversation, laughing and cutting up with one another. Ordinarily he would be taking part in this. He enjoyed the camaraderie of the group, especially in their more lighthearted post-therapy gatherings. But tonight he couldn't find it within him.

Couldn't possibly have anything to do with Mr. Green Eyes.

He tried to listen to someone's story about their new dog but kept drifting into his thoughts, all of which were centered around Kyle. He was a mystery and a challenge. He didn't share much and was afraid to be vulnerable to the point of anger. It reminded Steve a little of when Bucky was under Hydra's control.

I'm not sure which is worse- Hydra or grief.

Thinking about Bucky immediately brought about a wave of guilt. Bucky was gone. He knew this. He also knew that Bucky wouldn't want him to spend the rest of his life remaining devoted to him rather than live for himself. Further, he knew that Bucky would likely point out to him that he found himself attracted to a person he also felt compelled to rescue.

"You're quiet tonight," Dorothy observed. "Something on your mind?"

Steve smiled and shook his head. "I'm okay, Dorothy. I promise."

Dorothy gave him a skeptical look. "You've got that thousand yard stare." She looked at her coffee and smiled. "Couldn't have anything to do with that cute new boy that joined our group tonight, could it?"

Steve blushed and looked over at her. "It might be."

Dorothy laid a hand on his arm. "And that makes you feel conflicted."

"Bingo," Steve sighed. "You hit the nail on the head."

"I usually do," Dorothy replied with a satisfied grin before turning serious. "You know. When cancer was taking Henry from me, he made me promise him I wouldn't deny myself a chance to be happy because of him. He had this fear that I'd close myself off on his account. And he refused to die taking me with him. He told me to live."

"He was a good man," Steve said. Dorothy had spoken about Henry many times in group. Enough that everyone almost felt like they'd known him personally.

"He'd say the same about you if he'd gotten to meet and know you," Dorothy said. "Now- what would Bucky say about this?"

Steve's smile broadened. "Are you a psychic?"

"No. Just a very perceptive old gal."

"I think," Steve started to say. "I know...that Bucky would want me to be happy."

Dorothy nodded her head. "Then I guess you should honor him by doing just that. Shouldn't you?"

"Yes, ma'am," Steve agreed. He looked over at the window and watched the foot traffic. It had started to rain and people were scurrying about, frantically avoiding the sudden torrential downpour.

"That came out of nowhere," someone remarked.

No one had an umbrella, so it was decided that they would wait out the storm. Steve took the coziness of the situation in and lifted his cup to finish off his coffee. At the same time, he looked back at the window and felt his heart leap at what he saw.

Kyle was standing outside. Unprotected from the rain, he stood in front of the window and peered into the cafe. Even through the hazy, watercolor effects Steve could see the conflict on his face. He was momentarily frozen, completely transfixed by Kyle. He looked lost, afraid, and sad. Suddenly, having made up his mind about the internal struggle he was experiencing, Kyle turned to walk away.

Steve was out of his chair and moving toward the door before even thinking about it. The sound of the tinkling bell above the door was immediately swallowed up in the violent sound of the rain. Steve spied Kyle moving hurriedly down the sidewalk and took off after him.

You're an idiot, Kyle told himself as he trudged along in the rain. The second he'd made it to the cafe, he'd immediately begun to question himself and what he was doing. Fear won despite his attempts to shove it aside and he turned around and fled.

Rain smacked into him, completely soaking him. His shoes were full of rainwater and he ignored the annoying sensation. He'd be back in his dorm soon. He'd take a hot shower and get into dry clothes and all would be well. He'd go back to consuming himself with his studies and he'd never go back to group or give Steve another thought. He'd be safe.

Safe. And alone.

Alone. That word seemed to illicit a sense of comfort. It brought to mind images of a very warm and protective environment where nothing could hurt him and no one could ever be taken from him.

That's because there is no one, he bitterly thought.

He came to a stop just before an alley and seriously considered turning around again. His head was a mess and he hated his indecisiveness, his confusion. He wanted the stability of knowing what he wanted to do. He used to have that. But now his very firm ground was broken.

A pair of hands seized him from the side and yanked him off of the sidewalk and into the alley before he could produce another thought. A fist connected with his cheek and he was thrown backward and into a brick wall. His head was spinning from the surprise attack and he watched as a handful of men surrounded him.

"Your wallet- give it to me!" A man with a switchblade demanded as he waved it in Kyle's face.

Oh, you're gonna get it, Kyle thought as the pain from the blow and the danger of the scenario sank in. Telekinetic energy surged within him. It was comforting that even after not using his power for so long it still could be called to him like an old friend. Kyle looked up into the man's eyes and narrowed his own. "Don't try me," he spoke in a low, menacing voice.

"I won't ask again!" The man with the knife shouted as he moved closer.

Good. I was really hoping you'd say that, Kyle thought; he was eager to get some anger out. He lifted his hands, ready to shatter the man's nose when suddenly movement nearby signaled the arrival of another person. A reached out hand slapped over the knife man's wrist.

"Ouch!" The man cried out as his wrist was squeezed. The knife fell from his grip as all eyes moved to the new arrival.

Steve Rogers was standing there, his grip tightening on the man to the point that he was hunching over in pain, his free hand reaching for Steve's in a feeble attempt to pry his fingers off. Kyle could hear bones cracking. He stared at Steve, his eyes wide, and watched as the super soldier turned and threw the man against a nearby wall. He hit it with a painful smack and fell to the ground with an agonized cry.

The other men- Kyle counted five- immediately swarmed Steve in an attempt to overwhelm him with their numbers. Kyle briefly thought to join in but quickly saw that Steve could handle himself.

Besides, mutants are supposed to be a secret.

The men made an effort to tackle Steve but he barely budged under their force. Instead, he pivoted his body and took the closest two men by their necks and violently crashed them together before throwing each of them aside. The cracking of their skulls made Kyle wince, but it was nothing compared to what came next.

The third man moved around behind Steve and held onto his back while another tried to punch him with a set of brass knuckles. Steve spun with such force that the man attempting to restrain him cried out in surprise. The attacker's fist collided with the man on Steve's back. Steve shrugged the man off and he fell to the pavement with a pained groan.

"What the fuck are you?" The brass knuckle man roared.

He approached and attempted to strike Steve's face but came up short. Steve lifted a hand, catching the brass knuckles in it with a loud slapping sound. He stared at the man as he kept his fist restrained and gave a brief little smile."Someone who doesn't care for bullies," he said in a level voice. Then he shoved his hand forward, causing the back of the man's fist to connect with his face, throwing him several feet backward.

The last man standing stood there and watched as Steve turned and looked at him. He hesitated, his fear of the situation on clear display.

"Well?" Steve asked in a bored voice.

The man slowly shook his head and turned to run, leaving his wounded friends behind.

Kyle tracked the fleeing man as the others slowly began to rise and follow his example. He then looked at Steve and let out a deep sigh. The super soldier was standing beneath the heavy rain as it soaked his clothes- a tight white t-shirt and blue jeans. The shirt was plastered to his body, revealing each and every curve of hard muscle. Kyle stared at his pecs, noticing the nipples beneath the ineffective shirt. He followed the slope of his chest to his abs, which were expanding and contracting with each steady breath. He admired the way Steve's body created a triangular shape, the powerful and broad shoulders that tapered down to his waist. He stared longingly at his arms- so thick and defined- and longed to be in them.

You probably look like a dumbass right now, he thought.

Steve turned to Kyle and approached him. He put his hands on his shoulders and leaned in close enough that Kyle could see the heavy concern in his blue eyes. His expression in general was very worried as he searched Kyle's face. "Did they hurt you?" He demanded. He then spied the place on Kyle's cheek and his expression turned a little angrier. It made Kyle shiver.

"I'm...I'm fine," Kyle muttered, looking down to avoid Steve's gaze. "It's nothing."

"You're bleeding," Steve said.

"I am?" Kyle asked in surprise. Of course you wouldn't notice that. Captain America is soaking wet and touching you. What else is there to focus on?

Steve's expression softened into a little grin. "Yeah, tough guy. You are. But you're safe now."

Kyle looked into Steve's eyes and felt himself zoning out on everything around him. He didn't feel or hear the relentless rain or the pain from the attack. He simply stared up into Steve's concerned face, felt the solidness of his hands on his arms, and replayed his words in his head.

Did they hurt you? You're bleeding...yeah, tough guy. You are. But you're safe now.

Tears began to sting Kyle's eyes and at first he didn't have the presence of mind to understand why. But he knew. He had spent so long protecting himself from attachment, remaining invulnerable. But the dam had started to crack, with emotion slowly trickling out of its prison. And it felt good. As his tears began to stream down his face, he suddenly became aware of the cries that were escaping his mouth. Steve pulled him in for a hug and held onto him tightly. Everything else around them faded and there was only this embrace.

Steve tossed Kyle's wet clothes in the drier, then ventured into the kitchen to boil water for tea. As he gathered everything together, Natasha walked into the room.

"You're back late," she observed.

"I kind of got into a fight," Steve explained. He set mugs on a tray and made sure the sugar bowl was full.

Natasha raised her eyebrows and hopped onto the counter. "Tell me about it?"

"It was a mugging. An attempted mugging."

"Captain America to the rescue," Natasha said. She then ran a finger along the edge of the tray. "Can't help but notice that you're preparing tea for two. Is this one mine, or...?"

Steve smiled over at Natasha and shook his head. "It's for someone from group."

"Is the same someone who's wet clothes are currently in the drier?" Natasha asked with a gleam in her eyes.

"Yes."

The tea kettle began to whistle and Steve removed it from the heat and started to pour.

"Well, I won't stay in your hair," Natasha said. She hopped down and gave his shoulder a little squeeze before walking out. When she got to the doorway she turned around. "Hey, Rogers?"

"Yeah?"

"Good for you."

Kyle was trying to maintain some composure but found it difficult considering he was currently sitting in Captain America's living room. Wearing his clothes, he thought as he looked down at the t-shirt that swallowed him up. He wore some of Steve's athletic shorts with the drawstring pulled tight to ensure they wouldn't fall off.

After coming back to the compound at Steve's insistence, Steve had taken him up to his room and instructed him to take off his wet clothes and have a hot shower.

"It's fine, really," Kyle protested as he stood in Steve's bathroom.

"You're soaked and freezing," Steve countered. "Take a hot shower and get into these," he pressed while he set the shirt and shorts on the counter. "I'll put your clothes in the drier and get something hot for you to drink. Are you hungry?"

Kyle shook his head despite feeling pretty ravenous. Then his stomach rumbled and his eyes widened self-consciously.

"Yeah, I think I'll go with your stomach's answer to that one," Steve laughed. "Look. I'm going to step out to give you some privacy. Just pass the clothes to me through the door."

Kyle had complied, then stepped into Steve's large shower. As he washed up and enjoyed the warmth, he couldn't help but think about the fact that this was Steve's shower. He gets naked in here, he thought. He began to feel aroused at the idea and had to immediately shut the train of though down. He focused on studying the bathroom through the shower stall. He took in the sense of order, which didn't really surprise him given Steve's military background.

After he'd cleaned up and gotten dressed, he walked out to find that Steve's rooms were empty. He sat down on the sofa and tried to relax. He felt extremely vulnerable in that moment. He was out of his element and at the mercy of the situation. It was uncomfortable and yet he didn't want to leave.

The door opened up and Steve entered with a tray in his hands. "I brewed some tea and heated up some soup. Vegetable okay?"

Kyle nodded and watched as Steve set everything down. "This was all really nice of you," he murmured. "You really didn't have to..."

"I wanted to," Steve interrupted. He smiled down at Kyle and handed him his tea. "I like saving people, remember? It's kind of my thing."

Kyle accepted the mug with a shy smile. "I really am sorry for that. Yelling at you."

Steve shook his head and sat on the sofa with him. "It's okay. Being angry is okay. I think we're all allowed to feel like that these days."

"I haven't really let myself feel much of anything, to be honest," Kyle said before taking a grateful sip of tea.

"You want to talk about it?" Steve offered.

Kyle set the mug down and contemplated for a moment. Steve remained silent, his body language and presence nonthreatening. It was as if he was communicating to Kyle a message of no pressure. It was a comfort for him knowing the ball was in his court. He could share or not. He could share as much or as little as he wanted.

"When the blip happened everyone around me turned to dust," Kyle finally said in a voice so low Steve had to scoot closer to hear him. Kyle paused and appreciated Steve simply sitting and listening. "I was...I was at school. I went to a private school. For...uh...the gifted and talented. It was the only home I knew." Kyle looked up at Steve as if he was seeking confirmation of permission to keep talking. Seeing the openness on Steve's eyes goaded him. "I was homeless when I was a teenager. My parents were...well, I didn't know my dad. He left before I was born. I don't know who he is. Or was. And mom was...mom was...preoccupied. Drugs. So I ran away."

Steve frowned at what Kyle was telling him about his past.

"Sorry, that's a lot to share," Kyle abruptly said.

"No," Steve quickly said. He could see the spell being broken and Kyle retreating back into himself. He didn't want that. Not at all. "I was frowning because of what happened to you; not because of what you were saying."

Kyle nodded but didn't say anything else.

"I want to hear you," Steve continued. "As long as you want to be heard, I want to hear you."

Kyle took another drink of tea and stared into it as if he was trying to find courage there. "I was taken in by the school and lived there ever since. Got to know the others. Kind of...found a family. So when the blip happened I lost pretty much everyone. Only a few a of my friends are left. I...I couldn't keep looking at the rooms. The empty rooms. I couldn't do it."

Steve looked at him with sad understanding. "I almost moved out of the compound after everything. Seeing how many of us weren't here anymore. It was hard."

"I could have stayed with the people who were left. But it was just too hard. So I ran away." He shook his head in self loathing. "Like a coward."

"You're not a coward," Steve said in a comforting voice. "You were hurt. And confused by what happened. You reacted the best way you knew how."

"Yeah, by closing myself off from everyone. Not exactly a healthy way to cope, is it?"

Steve pursed his lips. "No. But I understand why now. Our experiences shape us. For better and for worse." When Kyle didn't show signs of discomfort, Steve went on. "Your upbringing taught you that you couldn't rely on people. So you learned early that you had to take care of yourself. Which isn't a bad lesson. Then you found stability at school with your chosen family and you let yourself relax. But then it was taken from you."

"And I felt like I had to shut down to make sure it never happened again," Kyle whispered.

Steve remained quiet alongside him and let the situation breathe. They ate soup and drank tea in the comfortable silence that settled in. As they did so, Kyle reflected on how Steve had approached the conversation. He felt grateful for Steve's gentleness, for the way he let Kyle be in charge. Moreover, he felt comfortable with how perceptive Steve was about him. It felt good to have someone else fill in the blanks alongside him when words failed him.

Steve took furtive glances at Kyle as they ate, admiring his features as he attempted to gather enough courage to speak his mind. But every time he started to, it felt wrong. It felt like it wasn't the right time.

Plenty of time, he told himself as he gathered up the dishes after they'd both finished eating.

"I can help," Kyle offered.

"You're my guest," Steve gently enforced. "And you've just been through a lot. Opening up the way you did. I know it wasn't easy for you. Just relax and I'll take care of all of this. I'll get your clothes while I'm downstairs too."

Kyle relented and watched Steve as he resumed the task of clearing up. Once he'd left the room, Kyle lay back on the sofa, his eyes growing heavier by the second. He felt the sensations of warmth and safety as well as the comfort of feeling understood and sleep crept up on him.

When Steve returned with Kyle's clothes, he found the younger man had fallen deep asleep on the sofa. He smiled at the scene and set the clothes down on the table. He knew Kyle intended to go back to his dorm, but Steve hated to wake him. He'd been through a lot and it was clear he was exhausted. Instead, he gently scooped him up in his arms and carried him into the adjacent bedroom. Holding Kyle in one arm, he pulled back the neatly made covers and lowered him onto the bed. After tucking him in, Steve watched him sleep for a few moments and contemplated what it must be like to share a bed with him, to hold him close. Then he retreated to the living room and made a bed for himself on the sofa. He closed his eyes, thought about the little victory with Kyle, and fell asleep with a smile.

Chapter Text

Steve had always been a light sleeper- especially after coming out of the ice. He always joked that it was because he'd slept long enough. But even if he wasn't a slight sleeper, the scream that erupted from his bedroom would have torn him from sleep. He shot up from the couch and moved to the bedroom without hesitation and found Kyle sitting straight up in bed, a loom of exhausted fear on his face.

"Kyle," he said in a soothing but firm voice. He switched on the lamp and sat down on the bed.

Kyle pulled his knees up to his chest and his his face in them. "I'm sorry," he whispered after taking several breaths.

"Don't be." Steve hesitantly laid a hand on Kyle's back, slowly rubbing up and down. "You're safe."

"How did I end up in your bed? I should be in my dorm..."

"You fell asleep," Steve gently interrupted. "I didn't have the heart to wake you."

"Oh," Kyle said.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"It's always the same nightmare," Kyle murmured. "Everyone around me disappears until I'm all alone. And then I disappear too."

"I'm sorry," Steve said after a few seconds of silence.

Kyle looked up at Steve, taking in his look of contrition with confusion in his eyes. "What do you mean?"

Steve smiled bitterly and stopped rubbing Kyle's back. He pulled back and shook his head. "I failed you. You and your loved ones should have been able to trust that the Avengers could protect you."

Kyle looked at Steve's hands as he clasped them in his lap. He wanted them back on him even if he knew Steve was only touching him as a friend. "It wasn't your fault. Thanos was the monster. It's just sometimes the bad guys win."

"Sometimes I think I'm in hell," Steve confessed.

"What do you mean?" Kyle asked.

"I mean what if we all died when Thanos snapped his fingers? What if we're all dust right now and we're just...suffering? Being punished?"

"Why would you be punished?" Kyle asked as he scooted a little closer. "You're...you're Captain America," Kyle said as if that statement said it all. "You represent...the best of what a person can be."

Steve shrugged and looked up at Kyle. "Doesn't matter what I represent anymore."

"It doesn't matter?" Kyle asked. He surprised himself and reached for Steve's arm, laying a hand on it. "Are you kidding me? Of course it matters. Especially now."

"You think so?" Steve asked as he briefly looked down at Kyle's hand.

Kyle followed Steve's gaze and felt his nerve retreating. He started to pull back but Steve reached up and closed over his hand, keeping it in place.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, his voice low.

"I mean..." Kyle paused and gathered his composure. "I mean people need hope these days. And you were right when you said people need each other."

Steve looked back at Kyle's hand trapped beneath his. Without hesitating, he slowly moved his fingers up Kyle's wrist, along his arm and up his neck until he was cupping Kyle's face. "What do you need?"

So many things, Kyle thought. He stopped breathing and felt himself drowning in Steve's sight. The hand on his face felt warm, comforting. This isn't real. There's no way it's real. I'm dreaming still. He's going to turn to dust any second.

Steve read the fear in Kyle's face and wanted to alleviate it. "What do you need, Kyle? Just tell me and I'll give it to you." He gently rubbed a circle on Kyle's cheek with his thumb, seeking to leave no room for any doubt where his intentions were concerned.

Kyle shivered. "I don't want to be alone anymore," he whispered. "I don't want to be alone."

"You don't have to be," Steve said. He licked his lips and slowly leaned in. When he was just inches away from Kyle's mouth, he stopped. "I want to kiss you, Kyle. I've wanted to since I ran into you in the hallway that night."

"I want to kiss you too," Kyle whispered after he recovered from the shock of Steve's words.

Steve moved his hand to the back of Kyle's head, his fingers rubbing through his hair. "You're beautiful," he whispered before pressing his lips against Kyle's.

This is real. Oh, fuck, this is real, Kyle thought. He leaned into the kiss, eager to get all he could before Steve realized the mistake he was making and pulled away. He reached for him, taking hold of those broad shoulders and marveling at how solid and big he was. The affect of touching Steve started a fire within him. He pulled himself close, eager to be pressed against the super soldier. Steve smiled into the kiss and laid back, pulling Kyle on top of him before rolling over and pinning him underneath.

"This is happening," Kyle moaned when Steve moved off of his lips and kissed along his cheek.

"Your heart's pounding," Steve gently observed.

"I'm scared," Kyle confessed. It felt so odd to be so open and yet he couldn't seem to help himself now. "I'm afraid that you're going to turn to dust."

Steve watched tears begin to form in Kyle's eyes and felt his heart crack at the sight. He stared at this beautiful, lost and sad young man in his arms and needed to make the pain go away. And not simply because he was a hero. "I'm not going anywhere," he promised. He started to kiss him again, this time opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. Kyle accepted his tongue and began to move against him, surrendering to the passion that had risen up between them. Passion, need, and the urge for connection surged between them.

"Want you so bad," Kyle whispered into Steve's neck as he boldly started to kiss up and down his throat.

"I'm here," Steve whispered back.

Kyle took Steve's hands and guided them under his shirt, permitting him to undress him. Steve touched the soft skin under the shirt and slowly peeled it off of Kyle. He stared at the toned, delicious view and ran his hands over him. Kyle hooked his fingers in his shorts and pulled them down. Steve moved to help, slowly undressing Kyle until he was naked beneath him. Hungrily, Kyle tugged at Steve's tank top, needing it off of him. Steve raised his arms to accommodate his need and Kyle pulled it up. As he did so, he kissed Steve's body, starting with his waist and moving up. Steve's cock strained against his sweatpants, aching to be set free. Kyle's lips on his skin were driving him wild. He looked down once his shirt had come off and watched as Kyle kissed his chest. Kyle cupped each pec, massaging them as he flicked his tongue over a nipple, then gently sucked.

"Kyle," Steve gasped, loving how easily Kyle had discovered one of his hot spots.

"Mmm?" Kyle sighed as he moved to the next nipple and continued to stroke the other with his thumb.

Steve reached for Kyle's bare ass, taking it in both hands and pulling his hips against his. His cock pressed against Kyle insistently. "I need you," he growled as he moved to capture Kyle's mouth again.

Kyle reached down for the waist of Steve's pants and tugged at them. Steve grinned and moved to help him. He gripped the pants in one hand and tore them away like they were paper. His heavy cock slapped up against his stomach, then bobbed and swayed between them. Kyle looked down and a hungry groan escaped his mouth.

It was beautiful. It was everything he wanted in a cock- thick and big like Steve himself. Knowing that this current situation was the stuff of soaking wet dreams, Kyle reached down wrapped his hand around its girth before slowly sliding up and down the shaft.

"Your hand feels so good," Steve sighed into his neck.

"You should feel my mouth," Kyle boldly declared. Who the hell am I? He asked, surprised with his forwardness. He knelt down before Steve, knowing the super soldier was tracking his every movement. He brought the tip of the cock to his lips, slowly pulling the foreskin back before taking the tip into his mouth. He started flicking the underside with strokes of his tongue before sinking the entire thing into his throat.

Steve's mouth widened but no sound escaped. His eyes briefly closed in ecstasy before snapping open again to watch Kyle. He gently reached down to run a hand through Kyle's hair.

Kyle drew back and pumped Steve's slick cock with his hand and kept his mouth bobbing up and down, continuing to focus on the places that made Steve groan the loudest. He moved his cock up to his stomach and traced his tongue down to the heavy, full balls.

"That's so good," Steve sighed, loving the way Kyle's tongue felt on them.

Kyle kept his tongue moving and continued to slide his hand up and down Steve's cock.

"Yeah, lick my balls," Steve urged. "Don't stop doing that."

Found another spot, Kyle triumphantly thought as he kept it up.

"You're going to make me cum," Steve threatened.

"I know," Kyle gasped as he let off of Steve's dick for a second.

"I come a lot," Steve warned. "Just...ohh....wanted to let you know so you don't...oh, fuck Kyle, you're mouth...so good..."

Kyle could feel Steve tensing up. He dragged his tongue up his balls and throated him again, driving him to the edge. Steve started to moan, thrusting his hips forward to meet Kyle's mouth. With a great shudder, he started to cum. His hips moved in spasmodic fashion and streaks of hot, thick cum splashing into Kyle's mouth.

I'm making Captain America cum, Kyle thought with a huge rush of triumph. How many people can say that?

Steve bucked his hips and threw his head back. "Oh, Kyle!"

He comes a lot! Kyle suddenly thought as he gagged and drew back, unable to swallow all of what Steve was unloading. Splashes of cum hit his lips, forehead and chin as he kept pumping Steve's cock.

Steve looked down at Kyle, noticing the mess he'd made on him. "I warned you," he said with a big smile.

"That was so fucking hot," Kyle said when he caught his breath. "Can I say that?" He suddenly asked, realizing he was talking to the ultimate boy-scout.

Steve laughed. "You can say whatever you want as long as you keep doing that." He reached down and grabbed Kyle's thighs, yanking him so that he was on his back.

"What are you doing?"

"It's your turn," Steve growled. "And then I'm going to fuck you."

Kyle looked at him with surprise.

"What? Captain America can't say 'fuck'?" Steve asked with a smirk before taking Kyle's cock by the base and licking up to the head.

Captain America is going to suck my dick. And then Thor he's going to fuck me. Repeat- Captain America is going to fuck me! How am I going to take all of him. He's huge! Whatever. It's worth the broken pelvis. Totally worth it.

Steve enveloped Kyle's dick in his mouth. Taking him down to the base, he hummed and bobbed up and down, sending tremors of pleasure through every inch of Kyle's body. He rose up to watch, completely spellbound by what he was witnessing. Steven Grant Rogers- Captain fucking America- was blowing him.

And doing a really great job, too.

Steve continually ran his mouth and hand up and down Kyle. He reached up and scooped some of his own cum from Kyle's cheek, maintaining eye contact with him the entire time. Reaching between Kyle's legs, he pressed a cum-slicked finger against his hole, slowly moving up and down the entrance.

"Oh my God."

"Too fast?" Steve removed the cock from his mouth but kept stroking it and touching Kyle's hole.

"Uh...no. I was kind of worried you'd think I was moving too fast."

Steve grinned. "I think we're on the same page as far as speed is concerned." He pressed his finger through the tight ring, slowly sinking it into Kyle, smiling as he observed the elation on the bottom's face. "You like that?"

"Y-yes."

"Good," Steve said. He slowly pushed his finger in and out. "I want you to feel good."

Kyle was about to tell him he didn't have to worry when Steve returned to his cock and continued to suck while he fingered him. As one finger became two, Kyle relaxed into Steve and began to feel his orgasm rising up. Steve dragged his fingers across Kyle's sweet spot and fully throated him as he began to raise his hips up and cry out. Steve kept his mouth on Kyle and swallowed his cum.

"I can't believe that just happened," Kyle gasped as he started to come back down to earth.

"We're not finished yet," Steve said. He licked some of Kyle's cum from his bottom lip, then pushed his legs back and pried his ass open before immediately giving Kyle's hole two fingers.

"Oh! Already?"

Steve moved back and laughed. "I'm the super soldier, gorgeous. I can fuck you all night if you want me to."

As if to prove his point, he rose up and tugged his cock, making it bounce up and smack his abs to display just how hard he was again.

"Yes, please," Kyle sighed. He reached for his ankles and pulled his knees back to his shoulders, making sure he was completely open and on display for Steve.

"I can't wait to get inside of you," Steve groaned. He dove back in, slipping his fingers as deep as they could go, then moving them about in wild and assertive circles.

Kyle reached back and grabbed handfuls of bedcovers. Steve's fingers were unbelievable inside of him but he wanted more. "Steve," he panted. "You've got to fuck me."

"Ready for this super soldier dick?" Steve asked with a knowing smile. Not waiting for Kyle to answer, he moved up onto his knees and pulled Kyle up onto him, wrapping his legs around his waist and sliding his cock up against him. Slowly, he pushed into him, watching the pleasure on Kyle's face the entire time. Knowing he was gifted, he moved slow and allowed Kyle to adjust to being filled.

"I've never felt this full before," Kyle groaned. He pulled Steve down so that their chests were pressed against each other.

"Just stay like this for a minute, baby," Steve whispered. "Stay like this and get used to my cock."

Kyle wrapped his arms around Steve, feeling the broadness and strength of him and taking absolute comfort from it. He was real. This was real. He was safe and secure and Steve wasn't going anywhere. Steve flexed his cock inside him, making him twitch with excitement. "I'm ready," he assured him. "I'm ready for you."

Steve kissed his forehead, then began to slowly grind his hips. His cock moved in and out of the tight heat and he had to fight the urge to really let loose. "You're so good, Kyle. Where have you been all this time?"

Kyle arched his back and his legs jerked when Steve struck deeper, making him gasp. Steve briefly stopped and he shook his head. "It was a good noise! I promise! Don't stop!"

Steve's expression of concern faded to lust and he resumed fucking him, this time increasing the speed and power of his thrusts. With Kyle having adjusted more, he let loose. He moved so that his arms were supporting Kyle's legs and took a push-up position on top of him. He bounced up and down, guided by Kyle's pleasured screams as he continued power fucking him. The wet, smacking sounds of their bodies colliding filled the room and Kyle panted and gasped each time Steve was all the way inside of him, taking his breath away.

Steve kept up his pace, making sure to move in all the ways that Kyle responded best to. He wouldn't let himself cum until he'd fucked another orgasm out of Kyle first. And from the way the bottom's eyes were rolling and his body was tensing, it wouldn't be long. He watched Kyle's hand reach down and stroke himself and the effect was instantaneous. Fresh cum erupted from Kyle, coating his stomach and chest. Satisfied that he'd thoroughly pleasured him, Steve let go and pounded into him as Kyle lay there and continued seeing stars. When his second orgasm came, he shuddered and cried out, emptying himself into Kyle.

After coming down, Kyle reached for Steve's face and slowly rubbed along his jawline. When Steve lifted an inquisitive eyebrow, he smiled sheepishly. "Just making sure you're really here."

"I am," Steve confirmed. "And so are you."

"We aren't in hell, Steve," Kyle said, recalling what Steve had said earlier. "It just feels that way sometimes."

"But sometimes it doesn't," Steve added.

Kyle rolled onto his side and looked at Steve as he remained on his back. "Maybe we can be there for each other when it feels like hell? So that maybe it won't feel that way so much?"

"I think that's a good idea," Steve agreed. "Now- there's something I need you to know about me."

"What's that?" Kyle asked.

"I'm one of the most hardcore cuddlers you've ever met." He pulled Kyle up close to him and their bodies quickly conformed to one another. Silence settled in on them and both men became drowsy.

"This is a nice way to fall asleep," Kyle finally said. "Being your little spoon."

Steve kissed his forehead and rubbed his back as he fell asleep against him.

Chapter Text

It was never supposed to happen. After leaving the school, Kyle decided that he would never allow another close bond to form. Too many disappointments had befallen him. Maybe he was being dramatic, but he told himself he preferred solitude over getting hurt again. But every effort he'd made to create a barrier had been met with failure in the face of Steve. The super soldier had chiseled away at his defenses, leaving him frighteningly open to connection with his earnest and sincere presence. What had once been something he ran from transformed into a type of addiction. The more he opened up to Steve, the more he wanted to. It became a necessity to share with him and he could see and feel the joy it brought both of them each time he shared something.

But there were things that Kyle never shared, regardless of how easy Steve was to open up to. He never shared the true nature of the school and he never shared his mutant abilities. Steve, like the vast majority of rest of the world, had no clue what mutants were.

Xavier and Lensherr had explained the necessity of secrecy many times over. Although Kyle had come to resent this because of how it kept mutants from actively using their gifts to protect mankind, he chose to continue the secret if only to protect those who remained at the school. Prior to the blip, the school was filled with young mutants who were scared and uncertain. Most of them came from situations not dissimilar to Kyle's. Others, like Jean, came from loving families that simply wanted their mutant children to get the help they needed to control their powers to the extent that they could enter society without the fear of hurting anyone. Regardless of their origins, they all needed the stability and security that the school could provide them with.

Kyle could still recall the one occasion where the school's secret was compromised. It was the day when Nick Fury of S.H.I.E.L.D. had paid the school a visit. Alongside Jean, Kyle had listened intently from the hall as Fury discussed something called the Avengers Initiative with Xavier and Lensherr.

"We're looking for people with unique abilities who can help us keep the world safe," Fury had explained.

Jean and Kyle had shared a look of excitement. Superheroes. The mere notion of this was enough to set both kid their hearts racing.

"If you'll pardon me for cutting you off," Xavier had said. "This is a school intended to help young mutants learn to control their gifts, not a training ground for superheroes."

"I realize that your students are all children. But the two of you aren't. Are you telling me you wouldn't be willing to use your powers to help mankind?"

"We are using our powers to help mankind," Lensherr pointed out. "In our own way, we're helping by teaching these children. They need stability. They need us."

"This is our place in the world, Nick," Xavier added. "And we aren't budging on it. I would greatly appreciate it if you were to keep this school under the radar."

"And if I do that? What then?"

"Then, Nick, you would be doing your part in protecting these children."

"So you're saying no, then."

"We're saying no for now," Lensherr stated. "Allow us to teach our students in peace and, perhaps, we may lend a hand one day."

Recognizing that this was as good as things were going to get, Fury had left the school with a promise- that he would keep the school out of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s database and their secret would remain hidden. He would protect them from exposure.

Kyle had been confused by Xavier and Lensherr's stance in the matter, a feeling that would follow him going forward. Especially after the blip claimed half of all life in the universe. They could have been Avengers. They could have done something.

"You're deep in thought," Steve pointed out, rousing Kyle from his memories. The two of them were laying on Steve's bed, their bodies still warm from recently having sex. Since they'd begun seeing one another, Kyle spent less and less time in his dorm. Steve's rooms had become a sort of home for Kyle. The months that followed their initial coupling had solidified this.

"Sorry. Just thinking about the finals," Kyle hastily said. It wasn't a total lie; he was worried about his final exams.

"I don't think you have much to worry about," Steve said before pulling Kyle against his chest and kissing him. "You're smart. Plus you had me helping you out with all of that World War II history."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "You love to bring that up."

Steve smirked and ruffled Kyle's hair. "Of course I do. I like to think you aced that test because of me."

The pace of their relationship had been quicker than Kyle would have normally thought he'd be comfortable with. But Steve was easy to spend time with. He was gentle, nonjudgmental, and he listened. It also didn't hurt that he was basically the hottest man Kyle had ever met.

And he's all mine.

Kyle relaxed into Steve's arms and gently traced a finger over his chest. As he did so, he contemplated that thought. Was Steve truly all his? He casually looked over at the far wall where Steve's bookshelf stood. Among the rows of highly-organized books there were the occasional framed photos. One of them was an old picture taken during World War II. And in it, standing next to Steve, was Bucky.

He's only mine because Bucky is dead.

That thought hit him and suddenly a cascade of negativity settled in like a fog over his brain. There had been times when Steve had brought Bucky up and was honest about his former relationship. Kyle appreciated the transparency but couldn't help but compare himself to the dead soldier. Through pictures and Steve stories, Bucky was so handsome and possessed a certain confidence and swagger that Kyle felt he could never compete with. The fact that he was dead made him feel that Steve wouldn't have ever even noticed him otherwise.

"Tell me what you're thinking about," Steve prompted.

Taking a deep breath, Kyle decided that maybe it was time to speak up. Crazily enough, he'd become mostly open in the recent months. "I know this is going to sound really insecure. And I know it's weird for me- the person who doesn't want to get close to anyone- to say this. But I can't help but compare myself to Bucky."

Steve took it in and was silent as he rolled the idea around in his head. It hadn't occurred to him that this could be a possibility and he suddenly felt a pang of guilt. "Have I been talking about him too much?

"No! Not at all!" Kyle exclaimed. Bucky had been such a large part of Steve's life for so long and losing him had been a massive blow. Even if he did harbor a slight bit of jealousy, he couldn't imagine restricting Steve's freedom to talk when the super soldier had been so eager to hear all of the contents of Kyle's head that he wished to share. "You and Bucky had a history. You were so close. I would never want you to feel like you couldn't talk about him."

Steve studied Kyle's face, seeking out any signs of distress. Kyle never thought he'd find himself thinking this, but he really liked the way Steve paid such close attention to him. It made him feel like there wasn't another soul on the planet.

"I don't ever want you to feel like you have to compete with the memory of Bucky," Steve finally said. "Yes, he meant a great deal to me. And I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt that he was dead. But sometimes I tell myself that there's a silver lining to his passing. I loved Bucky. But I'd be lying if I said I didn't feel responsible for him. Responsible for his happiness."

Kyle looked at him with confusion. "What do you mean?"

Steve sighed. "It's complicated. But I think you already know I have a hero complex."

"That's an understatement."

"I guess a big part of me felt like I had to rescue Bucky. From his life. The enslavement. The lost drifting. I loved him but the more distance I have from him the more I see how much needing to save him played into our relationship."

"It shouldn't be about that," Kyle said. "I hope you don't see me that way."

Steve smiled ruefully. "I did at first. And still do in a lot of ways. It's who I am."

"But you can have those feelings and still be with someone because you also care deeply. Not just because you feel obligated to them." He touched Steve's chest. "You can be someone's hero without the whole relationship being about that."

"I think maybe I'm learning that."

"What else have you learned?"

Steve gestured to a large photo of all of the Avengers together. "It's hurts having all of them gone. But if there's one thing I've had to learn through all of this it's that there are some things you just can't change. Even all the power in the world can't bring them all back. We have to accept that. And that hurts like hell. But if I let myself stay stuck in it, I'll never be able to move on and be happy." He paused and caressed Kyle's cheek. "But moving on doesn't mean we forget them or stop loving them. But it does mean making space in our hearts for someone new. Like I'm doing for you."

Kyle absorbed those words and felt his earlier insecurity fading. "I'm sorry for suddenly being so emotional."

Steve started to laugh and rolled over so that he was on top of Kyle. "Are you kidding me? I've been waiting for you to be this open with me."

Kyle reached up and pulled Steve's mouth to his. Deepening the kiss, he let his fingertips move down the man's broad back. He took two big handfuls of Steve's impeccable ass and gave it a squeeze. "Did the super soldier serum give you this ass?"

Steve chuckled into Kyle's neck and gave it a gentle nip. "Probably. But I don't think that was the primary goal." He licked slowly up Kyle's throat to his ear and rolled his hips against Kyle, his cock pressing into him, rock hard and insistent. "Just so you know- I was already hung before the serum."

Kyle found himself meditating on Steve's words for several days after he'd spoken them. Acceptance was a thing that eluded him in every way. During the time he'd spent with Steve and the group, he'd learned more about the stages of grieving than he thought he possibly could.

Shock was a given. Denial, anger, bargaining, depression and testing- he'd experienced each of those. But acceptance was a thing he couldn't attain no matter how much he wanted to. He could never accept that they were gone.

"It doesn't mean you stop loving them," Steve gently reminded him one day during a walk. "You can still love them and accept that they aren't part of your life anymore."

Kyle smiled softly and looked down at his feet as he walked. "Object permanence," he whispered.

"What?"

"It's something small children learn in development. That just because a thing isn't there...it doesn't mean it's gone." Tears threatened and his throat felt like it was closing on itself. He felt like that child, fearful that the sun wouldn't rise again just because it was gone.

Steve stopped walking and took Kyle in his arms. "Let it out," he encouraged.

"They're gone," Kyle said in a sobbing voice. "They aren't coming back. But...but I still have them. I still remember every lesson Xavier and Lensherr taught me. I still have memories of my friends. My family."

Steve waited patiently and rubbed a consoling hand up and down Kyle's back.

"As long as I remember those things then they're never really gone," Kyle concluded. Cliche? Perhaps. But it comforted him in that moment.

Steve pressed his lips to his ear. "It's not a race, Kyle. You can grieve at your own pace. I just...I don't want you to be stuck."

Kyle nodded into Steve's chest. "It's time for me to accept it. And make space in my heart for you."

Steve smiled down into his face and gently wiped the tears away. "You're so strong, you know that?"

Kyle rolled his eyes.

"I'm serious," Steve said. "All the super powers in the world can't make you strong enough to accept life and what it gives you. But you do."

Kyle smile appreciatively and tucked away the guilt he felt knowing he did have super powers.

Rain came down in horrendous sheets as Kyle was making his way to group. He pulled his raincoat around as a huge gust of wind struck, dragging a torrent of rainwater at him sideways. Unwilling to allow himself to be soaked further, he reflexively raised a hand and a burst of telekinetic energy struck the water, knocking it backward. He took a quick look around him but no one was around to see what he'd done.

Everyone's too busy staying warm and dry in their dorms, he told himself.

He approached the doorway and entered. As he was wiping his rain boots on the carpet he spotted Steve approaching him from the opposite end of the hallway.

"A sight for sore eyes," Kyle said as Steve got closer and helped him out of his raincoat. "You must have gotten here before the rain started," he observed as he took in Steve's dry and pristine state.

"Yeah, I've been here for a little while," Steve answered in a small voice.

Sensing that something must be wrong, Kyle's first reaction was to play it off. He'd been guilty of looking through the glass a little too darkly. Besides, gloomy weather had this effect on people. "I wish I'd gotten here sooner," he said.

Steve held the raincoat and stared at it like it was the biggest puzzle on earth.

"Okay, something is wrong," Kyle said, accepting the reality. Steve maintained that confused stare and Kyle reached out and touched his cheek. "Whatever it is, we'll fix it," he promised him.

Steve slowly looked up into Kyle's eyes and something in that piercing blue stare told him he was wrong. "We can bring them all back," Steve quietly spoke.

Kyle's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Wait. What are you saying?"

Steve cleared his throat and spoke up. "We found a way," he said. "A way to bring everyone back. A way to reverse the blip."

"That's...that's wonderful!" Kyle exclaimed.

"Yeah," Steve agreed.

"Then why are you so sad?" Kyle asked. He hesitated to even pose the question.
Because he knew in his heart what was happening. He could see it written in Steve's expression.

"Kyle. When everyone comes back to life, there's going to be so much for everyone to adjust to."

"Right."

Steve squeezed his eyes shut as if he were avoiding watching a car crash. "Bucky...when he comes back he'll...Kyle, it'll be like no time passed for him. For him, we'll still be together."

"And you can't tell him that you moved on," Kyle whispered. "That you...made space in your heart for me."

"Kyle, I..."

"I always knew, in my heart, that if you had the chance, you'd choose him," Kyle calmly stated as he took a step back from Steve.

"I don't know what to say," Steve said as he dropped his hands to his sides in a helpless gesture.

"You don't have to say anything else, Steve. You've already said more than enough," Kyle said as he continued to back away.

"I'm so sorry," Steve had said. And he meant it in so many ways.

"Don't be," Kyle said as he forced himself to smile through his sudden tears. "I'm...I'm happy for you."

Steve crumpled at the sight of him crying. The juxtaposition of his words and his expression. He wanted to clear the space between them and hold him again. One last time. He raised his hands up and moved to him, intent on pulling him into an embrace.

"No!" Kyle winced as he put his hands up and stepped back. "Please don't, Steve. It'll only make this harder than it has to be."

Steve nodded respectfully and maintained the distance between them. "I...I can't stay for group," he mumbled. "The Avengers...what's left of us. We're going on the mission."

Kyle turned and faced the door, his mood matching the chaotic storm outside. "Good," he said. "I hope it's a success."

"Kyle..."

"I need to go," Kyle said briskly.

Steve reached out compelled you say something, anything. "Kyle..."

"Don't tell me you love me," Kyle muttered. "Don't tell me you'll never forget about me. Just...just don't, Steve."

Steve let out a melancholy sigh and watched as Kyle pushed the door open and went into the night. "But I do," he sighed.

This is what I get, Kyle told himself as he began to run through the storm, not caring as the rainwater slashed at him. I deserve this. This is what happens when you open yourself up. It always does. Everyone leaves.

Kyle held himself together as he walked into the dorm building and got in the elevator. A group of girls was laughing and teasing one another and their boisterous, blissful interactions was grating against his nerves. He couldn't handle happy. He didn't want to see happy. Finally, the elevator stopped at his floor. He hastily grabbed spare clothes and his shower stuff and made for the showers. Once he'd locked himself up inside one of the stalls and had turned the water on, he drowned his pitiful cries in the spray's noise.

The Avengers we're going to try and bring everyone back. And he hoped they succeeded. But whether they did or not, he'd stay solitary. It was the best way. His father left too early for him to know him. His mother abandoned him for something better. The family he found was taken. And now this. Regardless of whether Steve and the other Avengers pulled this off, he knew the path his life was going to take. His was a path he'd never deviate from again.

A path he'd walk alone.