It was nine o'clock, the night before your last final. After days of constant studying, only taking breaks to refuel with food, Steve had convinced you to take the rest of the evening off. He had been going on about how important it was to not study the night before an exam, saying it was like running a five-k the day before a marathon. Besides, you figured you had studied more than enough for this test and that whatever studying you would do at this point would only further turn your brain into a soft pile of mush. That's how you found yourself in Steve's bed, his back against the headboard and you curled up in between his legs, resting against his chest.

"Do you know any nursery rhymes?" you asked, sleepily.

"Probably a couple," Steve replied, as he continued to run his fingers through your hair, an action that always made you fall asleep. "Why do you ask?"

"I was just thinking about something I read in one of the baby books my mom gave me," you began. For a moment you thought you felt Steve tense a little at your words, his hands moving from your hair and didn't understand why he was acting odd. Then you felt him wrap his arms around you, pulling you even closer to him so you brushed it off.

"Apparently, singing the same song everytime the baby cries can be a continual source of comfort for whenever it's stressed. And introducing music at a young age can help speed up the baby's cognitive development," you noted, watching Steve's hand come to rest on your stomach where your baby had temporarily made a home for itself.

"Anyway I realized I don't really know the lyrics to any child appropriate songs. I figured singing to the baby about how my milkshake brings all the boys to the yard might be frowned upon."

Steve chuckled and then went quiet for a moment, lazily drawing circles where your baby bump must have been days from showing, patting it lightly.

"Well there's this one song my mom used to sing whenever she was cooking. You Are My Sunshine?"

"How does it go?" you asked innocently.

"You don't know? I thought it was a pretty popular song back in the day," he responded, slightly confused.

You shrugged your shoulders which Steve must have taken to mean that you didn't know the song. He leaned forward so that his chin was resting on your shoulder as he began to sing the words of the song quietly.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine

You make me happy, when skies are grey

You'll never know dear, how much I love you

Please don't take my sunshine away."

When he stopped singing, he moved his head from your shoulder and back to the head board, pulling you with him.

You had lied before. When he said the song title you had recognized it instantly but you had wanted to hear him sing it for you, curious to hear what his voice would sound like. You hadn't expected this. You had never really listened to the lyrics before but hearing the words flow effortlessly from Steve's mouth had changed the song entirely. He sang like he meant every word. As if the lyrics were his own words written just for you. You felt captured by the rich tone of his voice. He might not have hit every note, but that hadn't made the moment or the song any less perfect.

"I think that's the one. That's the song," you said simply, feeling too overcome with the powerful emotions to tease him for singing to you.

Did Steve mean any of the words, or had you just imagined the whole thing? It felt as if this song had been a way of telling you that he loved you without actually saying it. But maybe you were just overthinking? Was there a chance that Steve had actually fallen in love with you? Your relationship was still so young that it felt like the l-word should remain somewhere in the far off distance. But the thought that Steve might have actually fallen in love with you didn't terrify you like you thought it would. It made you happy. Like an over the moon, you just met your celebrity crush, once in a lifetime kind of happy. Did that mean there was a chance you might love him too?

These were the questions that bothered you for the rest of the quiet night and all the way through to the next morning, halting only when you sat for your final at noon. When you exited the classroom, your last exam completed and spirits high, you found a familiar face waiting for you on a bench in the hallway just outside.

"Well if it isn't the college graduate. Here I thought you were just a dumb ass but look at you."

Peter got up from his spot on the bench, walking up next to you. He had finished another final for a different class a few minutes before yours so you had planned to meet up and make the trek from campus, which was way uptown, back to midtown where Stark Tower was.

"You're assuming I passed," you teased, starting the walk to the nearest subway. "I still have plenty of time to prove I' the dumb ass you know and love."

"I'm sure you passed," Peter chuckled, holding the door open as you exited the building. "I wish I was done, I can't believe I have to do a summer semester."

Peter was technically in the same year as you but because of his hours working for Tony he often had to take a lighter course load. As a result, he had a few more classes he needed to take this summer before he could officially graduate, even though he was walking with you at graduation at the end of the month.

At the beginning of the year, you and Amanda had been talking about celebrating the end of senior year with a huge grad party at what used to be your favorite bar. It was strange how much had changed from then. Now, months later, you had an entirely different party planned by your new boyfriend to celebrate you and your new best friend's freedom from school. Even though Peter wasn't officially done you had wanted to celebrate the way you did everything these days, together.

After everything you had been throughband all he had helped you with, the charmingly annoying boy was more than a friend, he was a brother. His kindness and persistence pushed you to be more open-minded and vulnerable, whereas your humor and empathy were able to bring him back to the light when the things he experienced as Spiderman threatened to pull him into darkness. He was permanently latched to you and you to him, and it truly felt like nothing in the world could separate the bond you shared.

The majority of Steve's teammates would be there for the party as they were also Peter's teammates, though many like Nat and Sam had started to feel like friends of your own. Peter's friend Ned, who you had heard a lot about but never gotten to meet, was now home on summer break from the university he attended in California and would also be coming. You couldn't wait to meet him, knowing that he would be full of embarrassing stories about Peter in his younger middle school years.

The long commute passed quickly and you soon found yourself walking through the elevator doors into the familiar living room. The party wasn't for another half hour so the guests weren't there yet, but you knew Steve was supposed to be around somewhere. Peter went straight for the fridge, grabbing an iced tea.

"Oh man, here we go again," you laughed as he twisted the cap off the bottle. Peter rarely had caffeine so he was always bouncing off the walls whenever he had some.

"Hell yea, it's party time!!" he joked, pretending to chug the drink.

Peering around the fridge, you saw the part of the tower where you never really went. It housed most of the offices of the people who would work at the tower so it wasn't a place you usually frequented. Steve was rarely over there but you figured you would do a quick check to see if he was before heading down the hallway to his room. You scanned around the room seeing that most of the offices, all of which had glass walls, were empty. Tucked into an office towards the back you saw the man you were looking for, looking mighty fine in jeans, a grey t-shirt and a brown leather jacket. You smiled at the sight of him, but that smile quickly faded when you realized he wasn't alone.

"What's wrong?" Peter asked, apparently sensing your sudden change in mood. He walked over to you, looking to see what had caught your attention. "Shit," he muttered under his breath, tensing immediately when he saw what you were looking at, eyes growing wide.

Across the other end of the office was a furious looking Steve who seemed to be mid-argument with Sharon Carter. Sharon looked neat and composed, wearing a blue button-down and a matching vest. Steve on the other hand, ran his hands through his hair anxiously, his face red and angry. What was going on?

You took a step forward, going to find out why she was here and what had made Steve so upset but you were stopped when Peter quickly jumped in your path.

"I don't know if you should go over there," he rambled nervously, blocking your way and trying to keep your attention off of whatever was happening at the other end of the room. "Let's just let them sort this out on their own, yea?"

You ignored him, pushing past him and making your way through the office, Peter trailing after you. The movement must have caught Steve's attention because his gaze shifted to meet your own, the hard expression on his face softening slightly and quickly being replaced with a nervous one.

Swinging the door open you walked into the large office. Sharon stood at the end of the table by the door, a thick folder clutched tightly in her hands. Steve smiled at you softly, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Hey sweetheart, how was your last final?" he asked.

"It was alright," you replied, slightly confused. Was he just going to pretend that nothing unusual was happening?

"What's going on Steve? Why is she here?" you asked hesitantly, not sure if you wanted an answer. You kept your eyes on Steve, refusing to look at Sharon, not wanting to give her the time of day though you could see Peter slinking to the back corner of the office, looking like he wished he could disappear all together.

"I'm actually glad you're here (Y/n), there's something you need to see," Sharon stated plainly, but the hairs on the back of your neck stood up all the same. Nothing good could come out of her being here, the only question was, how bad was it going to be?

"Stay out of this Sharon," Steve said menacingly. You were slightly taken aback by how aggressive his tone was, having never really seen this side of him before. He looked like a whole new person, outraged and menacing, his arms crossed firmly across his chest. Sharon appeared to remain unphased however, sliding the folder across the table to where you stood. You reached for it curiously, Steve pulling out the chair across from you and sitting dejectedly and Peter shuffling his feet nervously in the corner.

You followed suit, sitting in the closest chair, and opened the folder, scanning the document to see your name and Steve's, and what appeared to be a bunch of legal jargon.

"I don't understand... what is this?" you questioned, looking up at Steve. He looked at you sadly, opening his mouth to speak but Sharon beat him to it.

"It's a contract specifying Steve's financial involvement with your baby. Given that you take a paternity test to prove the child is actually his, he's agreed to provide you that level of specified child support, nothing more."

She leaned over, pressing her arms on the table, her hair falling forward off her shoulder as you finally returned her gaze.

"That shouldn't be a problem since you're positive that Steve's the father? The money shouldn't mean anything to you?" she asked, one of her eyebrows raised slightly, daring you to contradict her.

"That's enough," Steve interjected, the anger still evident in his voice but his eyes laced with worry. You sat there silently, struggling to process what was happening.

"(Y/n) I was never going to ask you to sign this," he explained, quickly but you stayed deadly quiet, starting to take a closer look at the contract.

"Tony insisted on making it but I only helped him to get him off my back, you have no idea how relentless he can be," he continued, waiting for you to say something. When you remained silent he started to get even more nervous.

"I swear I don't need you to sign this. I don't even want you to sign it, it means nothing to me."

You wanted to believe him. You wanted to believe him so badly, and you sure as hell knew you couldn't trust Sharon. But all the proof you really needed was right there in front of you. Wasn't it? His signature seemed to glare at you from the pages below, each word on every page a dagger to your fractured heart.

"Sweetheart, please just say something," Steve pleaded, not being able to take the tension of the silence that had fallen over the room.

"Okay," you began, steeling yourself. "How long?"

"What do you mean, how long?" he asked, confused.

"How long have you been keeping this from me? How long, Steve?"

"Tony approached me about it the day you moved in," he admitted sheepishly. "But I even told him then I would never ask you to sign it!"

"So you've been working on this for months behind my back? That's what you were doing in all of those meetings with Tony?" you asked, voice shaking with some combination of hurt and betrayal as Steve stared back at you nodding guiltily.

"I told you she wouldn't sign it, Steve," Sharon interrupted. "Getting mad about this is just her way of getting around signing the contract."

Your attention turned to her briefly, but no words felt good enough to convey how much you hated this woman. Deciding you would deal with her when you were ready you looked back to Steve. To the man who promised to be different from all the others but was really just the same.

"Why didn't you just tell me? Did you think I wouldn't understand your need to protect yourself?" you questioned.

"Of course not!" he exclaimed, "You've just been so stressed with finals and the baby and everything with your mom... I tried so hard to tell you but the time never felt right."

"And I'm just supposed to believe that you were going to tell me, when the only reason I'm finding out about it now is because of her?" you scoffed, motioning your head towards the smug blonde, at the end of the table.

"Of course I was going to tell you! I even promised Peter I would!" he defended, making the boy in the corner freeze as you turned to look at him.

"Peter, you knew about this?" you asked, voice beginning to crack slightly. What the hell was happening? How could this be happening to you again?

"I found out about it right before finals," he admitted, guilt written all over his face.

You hated lies and you couldn't believe that your people, your two rocks, had been keeping this a secret from you for so long. It was so hard for you to trust people and this was just further proof as to why you couldn't.

"(Y/n), I'm so sorry," Peter started, taking a step towards you.

"That's why you tried to stop me from coming in here?" you questioned, needing to know the truth of it all now. He nodded sadly, confirming your fear that not only had he helped Steve keep this a secret from you, but he was ready to stop you from finding out about it just minutes ago.

"This doesn't have to change anything," Steve said, bringing your attention back to him. "I don't even want you to sign it, this doesn't mean anything," he argued defiantly.

"Steve this means everything," you replied, pointing to the papers that lay a scattered mess in front of you, an apt representation of how you were currently feeling. "I can understand you not telling me about this during finals, but you had months before then to tell me the truth." The shock of finding out was starting to wear off, the full reality of what was happening finally setting in.

"You should have just told me, I would have understood," you shook your head back and forth slowly.

"I know, I... I messed up. I'm sorry," he looked so flustered. This obviously wasn't how either of you had expected the day to go, but it never would have happened in the first place if he had just been honest with you.

An unusual feeling started to come over you, and you realized that your eyes were beginning to water. It had been so long since you last cried you had almost forgotten what it felt like. You blinked rapidly, holding back the tears from falling, and inwardly cursing your stupid, baby hormones for playing on your emotions. You couldn't cry here. Not now. Not in front of everyone. You refused to give Sharon the satisfaction of seeing you so vulnerable.

"I can't do this," you said, the need to get out of the tower as quickly as possible rushing back to you.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked, warily, a broken and desperate look on his face.

"I mean I can't be here anymore," you replied, firmly.

"Don't go," he demanded, reaching his hands out to yours. "We can't fix this if you leave just because things get tough."

"Don't fool yourself," you laughed dryly, shooting him a knowing look and pulling your hands away from his. "Some part of you must believe that all of them are right. Some part of you must think that there's some small chance my baby isn't yours or that I'm just using you for your money. Otherwise you would have been honest with me."

Steve started to speak, undoubtedly to deny your claims but you were done listening. You were done with it all.

"We could have talked things through. Instead you chose to promise me that you didn't need proof and used this contract as a safety net. You don't trust me, Steve. You promised me you did, but you don't."

Steve looked at you in shock, as if he couldn't believe that's how you felt. That somehow it was Steve's lack of trust that would cause the biggest problems between you and not yours.

"(Y/n)- Sweetheart I... that couldn't be further from the truth. Of course, I trust you, I l-"

"Steve, how can you be falling for this?"

This time it was Sharon that cut him off, butting in for the second time. "You're obviously just making up excuses to get out of signing the contract. You're using him and now everyone else will see that now too."

You wanted nothing more than to give her a piece of your mind, but the instinct didn't even come to you. Sure, she was probably one of your least favorite people but Steve was the one that gave her the opportunity to come in-between you. If your relationship was as strong as it should have been, there would have been nothing she could have done to break you apart but clearly it wasn't the relationship you had thought it was.

"You're wrong," you stated.

"Then prove it," she replied, pushing a set of pens towards you from the other end of the table, challenging you to do what she was so convinced you wouldn't.