Steve had made himself busy unpacking his suitcase, sorting through the mess of clothes he had packed in a rush before leaving for Boston. Tony was sitting at Steve's desk ranting on and on about the pair still in the living room. He had tried to explain to him that their friendship was more complicated than Tony understood. That bringing (Y/n) back wasn't going to immediately solve the issues between them, even if his heart had been in the right place by surprising them with an unexpected reunion.

They had been alone for awhile now, Steve had thought (Y/n) might come get him when they were done but now he was growing a little restless. He stayed put in his room, figuring that they were probably just catching up, not wanting to cut in on any of her time with her best friend. That's when the sound of raised voices caught his attention. He hesitated for a moment, listening for any indication of what happened, only what sounded like a door-closing followed by an eerie quiet had taken its place. Telling Tony that he would be right back he left his room, turning the corner and walking down the hallway towards the living room.

When he arrived his apprehension only grew. Peter was alone, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. (Y/n) was nowhere to be found.

"Where is she?"

Peter didn't respond. He didn't even look at Steve, as he kept his head down, staring at the ground.

"Peter, what happened? Where's (Y/n)?" He tried again.

"What happened?" Peter's head shot up, his eyes bloodshot, narrowing in Steve's direction. "You forced me to lie to my best friend and then she fucking abandoned me, that's what happened!"

Steve wasn't sure if he had ever been on the receiving end of such a scathing glare. If looks could kill, he was sure he would have died on the spot. A rush of guilt ran through him as Peter reminded him of the fact that he himself was at least partially responsible for causing the rift between (Y/n) and her best friend. This feeling was quickly pushed to back of his mind as he began to put the pieces together. (Y/n) had been ready and willing to make things right so if she wasn't sitting with him now it was because Peter hadn't been.

"What did you say to her?"

Peter stood up from his spot on the couch, moving around the coffee table to head for the elevator. He hadn't made it more than one step before Steve moved in front of him, still a few yards away but still blocking his exit. He saw Peter tense in response, was sure that the hair on the back of his neck stood rigid and alert. Steve was equally stiff, matching Peter's stance, even though his stomach squirmed uncomfortably. It was the feeling he always got whenever he felt things were about to go south.

"I know (Y/n) wouldn't have left on her own. She felt terrible, she was ready to fix things between you, so the only reason she wouldn't be here is if you forced her not to be."

"Jesus she's in her room, okay? Can I leave now?" Peter took a few steps to the left, trying to get around him but Steve followed his movements. He knew he needed to go find (Y/n) but a surge of fierce protectiveness overcame him, the need to defend her monopolizing every thought.

"If you did something to hurt her I swear to God Peter I'll-"

"You'll what?" Peter shouted. "Do you honestly think there's anything I could do to make her feel a fraction of the pain that you caused her? Where do you get off acting so superior?"

Steve's fist clenched as he forced himself to keep his arms at his sides. His heart was beating in overdrive, going sixty-five in a forty. He could have sworn it was about to leap out of his chest and onto the boy across from him, beating him to a pulp with its tiny and ineffectual fists.

"How damn self-absorbed do you have to be to not realize that? I'm not the one that fucked everything up, you are! None of this would have happened if you hadn't made that goddamn contract!" Peter continued, his voice filled with rage and blame.

"Fuck!" Peter shouted again, louder than ever before, as if all of his suffering and all of his agony could be expelled from his body with that single word. One word would never be enough, Steve knew that more than most. In a blur of rapid motion, he watched as Peter reached for the half-empty glass of water on the table, picking it up, and slamming it against the adjacent wall. Water trickled down the painted surface, shedding tears for the glass that was scattered in irreparable pieces along the floor.

Peter looked at the mess, for a moment he seemed completely shocked by what he had just done. There was no remorse on his face, instead he looked defeated, like a boy who had gotten lost in a sea of self-serving people, screaming and shouting for someone to come rescue him until he realized that no one wanted to. Then the expression vanished, his eyes hardening as he turned and went straight for the elevators, bumping into Steve's shoulder along the way.

He almost stopped him. For more reasons then one he wasn't prepared to let Peter walk away from the mess he had just made but Peter's elbow landing in his stomach on his way out of the tower seemed to give him clarity, reminding him of what was actually important. He needed to find (Y/n). He needed to find her now.

Turning quickly on the spot, he walked back in the direction of (Y/n)'s room. He paused for a moment outside the door, putting his ear up against it. The unmistakable sound of sniffling was all it took for him to open the door. Only the door didn't open like normal. It wasn't locked since the handle could turn but there was some resistance from the other side preventing it from opening. Steve used his strength to push harder on the door but stopped immediately when he heard what sounded like a thud and muffled "ouch".

Steve froze, his heart beating quickly until the door swung open all the way. What he saw made his breath cut short. (Y/n) stood in the doorway, one hand was rubbing the back of her head, the other clutching the door handle, as if she wouldn't have been able to stand up without it. Tears lined her face and her cheeks were a bright red from rubbing the wetness from her eyes. Steve raced forward, taking two steps before bringing her into his arms. Her feet left the floor as he rushed to bring her closer, hugging her tightly. She wrapped her legs around his waist to balance herself as she hid her head face in his shoulder, the leftover tears creating damp splotches on his shirt.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart." He whispered in her ear. "Are you okay? What happened?"

It was hard to tell since her voice was muffled by his shirt but he thought he heard something that sounded like "my head mfasfmk" and "mseshgrh door". He carried her further into the room bending down so that (Y/n) was sitting on the bed. Leaning away slightly, he tilted her head up so he could see her fully. He was met with doleful eyes, a couple tears still trickling down her cheeks. She didn't ask anything of him. She didn't complain about the pain he was sure she was feeling on the back of her head or explain what had happened with Peter, she just watched as he used his thumbs to dry her face.

"I'm going to come right back, I just want to get an ice pack for your head, okay?" He said, his voice still a quiet whisper. He knew better than to think it was possible but he was worried anything louder might break her. She wasn't fragile, (Y/n) was one of the strongest most independent people he knew. Seeing her like this was so jarring, he wasn't sure what he was supposed to do to keep the pieces of her together.

He saw her nod lightly in response. Moving so he was even closer to her, he pressed his lips gently to both her cheeks, her nose, and her forehead. Each kiss a reassurance, a promise that he was going to be there for her to stitch up her and heal every wound. Standing up, he hastily made his way to the kitchen, pausing for a moment when he saw the remnants of Peter's glass still scattered on the floor. He grabbed a dust pan from under the sink, quickly scooping up the jagged edges and dumped them in the trash. Then he found an ice pack, wrapping it up in a paper towel before heading back to (Y/n)'s room.

She hadn't moved an inch, still propped up on the edge of the bed. He was relieved to see that she was no longer crying but the subdued look on her face and the weak smile she tried to give told him she was still very much not okay.

He had her lay down with her head on one of the pillows while he sat next to her, one hand holding the ice pack where the door had bumped into her head, the other brushing her hair out of her eyes. Then he listened. He listened as (Y/n) told her the things Peter had said. He concentrated on every word, memorizing every piece of the conversation so that she would never have to repeat the story again. He couldn't stop his fist from clenching around the ice pack, and he would have been worried that it might have popped if he hadn't been completely preoccupied, her words sinking in and calibrating in his system.

He should never have let Peter walk away. Any sympathy he had for him had all but vanished, knowing nothing (Y/n) had done could ever have warranted these actions. What the hell had he been thinking? He had gotten off too easy. If it wasn't for the girl next to him he would have been half way out the door, ready to give Peter a piece of his mind. If her apology hadn't been enough to make him see sense then maybe Steve's fist in his face would wake him up. He wished he could make good on the images running through his head but he knew that it would hurt (Y/n) ten times more than it would ever hurt Peter.

"I don't think I can live here anymore." Her quiet voice broke the silence that had fallen.

"What?" He stilled, the hesitant and delicately cautious statement sending chills down his spine. (Y/n) tensed slightly and he could tell how nervous she was, how the stress of all of this was wearing her down. He moved his hand to her back, rubbing it circles gently in circles.

"I know how important it is to you that I came back here. The last thing I want to do is disappoint you and I know I'm probably letting you down even now." Her voice was cracking slightly, the very sound feeling like a sucker punch straight to his gut. Steve moved his hand to wrap around her waist, pulling her into him so her back was tucked into his chest. (Y/n) gave a shaky breath before continuing to speak.

"Peter needs to be here. He's apart of your team but I'm not. I don't have to be here. And now that I know what he thinks of me, how little our friendship meant to him... I can't stay here and run into him all the time and pretend to be fine. I want to be able to for you but I- I just can't."

She rolled over, turning in her spot so that they were facing each other and was looking up at him with pleading eyes. He could tell she was trying to make sure he understand something so he stayed quiet, listening closely.

"I want to find my own apartment, you can come stay with me whenever you want, for however long you want. You know I'd do anything for you and if you asked me to stay I would, so please don't ask me to. I'll do anything else, anything to make this work, just please don't ask me to stay here."

Steve processed this for a moment. He had just gotten her back and he wasn't ready to let her leave so quickly. His arms tightened around her, scared that if he let her go now that she might vanish into thin air. Then he pulled himself together, seeing the sub-context of her words. She was trying to tell him that she wasn't leaving him, she was trying to show growth, to prove that she wasn't running this time but Peter was making that impossible for her. The conflicted sadness in her eyes and the waver in her voice were proof of that. He couldn't force her to stay somewhere she'd always feel uncomfortable and unwanted. She deserved so much more than that and for once, he knew how to give it to her.

"No."

"No?" She asked, startled by the firm resolution of his voice.

"No, don't find your own apartment." He replied, her eyebrows arching in confusion. "We'll find one together."

"Like you'll help me find one?"

"No, I mean we'll find an apartment together. For the both of us."

He watched as she connected the dots in her head, waiting for the look of panic, or flecks of doubt to grow in her eyes. Instead she wrapped her arms around him, nuzzling into his neck and whispering a murmured thank you. He pulled her tighter against him, knowing that this was her way of telling him she wanted to move in with him just as much as he wanted to move in with her. Despite the sadness of the situation, he couldn't help but smile at the conclusion of it all. They were going to make their own home, not a tower with a rented room, but a real home. One that was just theirs.

Steve sighed in contentment, reveling in the fact that they were finally on the same page. For so long they had been on different chapters of the same book, struggling to work through the plot with their story lines out of sync. There would be more twists, more bumps in the road but now they read together, each new page a new beginning to the same happy ending. In that moment he knew this would be his forever. Three people, two soulmates, one family.