AN: Jessica's outfit is up top.

Trigger Warning

This chapter will mention child loss/miscarriages. If this is a trigger for you, please do not read.

✧

Jessica chuckled as she went through the file retaining information on her disappearance, shaking her head at the report.

"Nope, that's wrong," She shut the file, throwing it back on the table in Steve's living room.

The man looked to her, brows raised, "Oh?"

"Hurricane Georges was not me, I was Hurricane David- September 3rd, 1979," Jessica met his eyes, "No casualties. Got beat up for that one, two broken ribs and a bruised hipbone from being hit by a steel-toed boot. But, it was worth it if no one died."

Steve grimaced, pursing his lips a bit at the thought of Jessica being beaten as she looked back down at the manila folder. She ran her fingertips along the paper, tapping it twice before she looked back up at Steve.

"It could be worse... it was much worse at times."

"Jess, you don't have to tell me," Steve whispered, moving from the box of plates he was packing away.

Jess gave him a grim smile, resting her hand on the cushion to her side whilst saying, "Steve, I think today is the day that I tell you everything you need to know."

"Are you ready to?"

"I don't think I will ever be ready, hero," Jessica bit her lip, shaking her head rapidly, "But I need to get it out. It's eating at me that you don't know the truth."

Steve moved to sit beside her, resting his hand on her knee, "Are you sure?"

"I am," She grasped onto his hand that was on her leg, "But, Steve, you need to prepare yourself yourself for the hurt I have unknowingly put you through."

Jessica's heart was beating out of her chest as she spoke evenly, "When everyone thought you died, Howard had tried to help me find you for three days. We found the tesseract and I... I had a low point. I continuously made myself sick over losing you. I did not eat or sleep, all that I could do was cry."

"I'm so sorry," Steve whispered, voice holding every ounce of remorse, "I broke our promise to one another."

"I don't blame you, Steve," Jessica leaned forward, cupping Steve's jaw as she choked down her tears, "I never once did. You did what any one should do. You were a hero. You still are."

Steve shook his head, "But look what happened to you. I did this."

"No, you didn't, Steve. It was a collection of things. Losing Bucky and you was the most unimaginable pain, feeling what I thought was you both dying. I didn't know the half of it."

"What do you mean, Brooklyn baby?"

Tears couldn't help but form in Jessica's eyes, her jaw clenching as she looked up to the ceiling to keep her sadness away. Her fingers tightened against Steve's, letting out a long deep breath until she couldn't help but need an intake of air.

"Howard and Peggy were concerned, they decided that it was best to send me back to mourn with Lydia and Stiles. They took me in, cared for me and the kids drew me pictures. But I lost weight, didn't eat, was still the same in the dark of the ship as I was looking at the yellow wallpaper of the room."

Jessica choked on a cry as tears began streaming down her face, resting her hand on her lower abdomen while she remembered the pain of that dreadful day. A gasp of air left her mouth as the utter heartbreak she endured wracked through her body, causing Steve to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

He shushed her, kissing her temple as Jessica mourned the loss of their child alone, thoughts mixing together of all that could have been.

"Jess, what happened?"

"I didn't know," Jessica cried, chin trembling, "I promise that I didn't know. If I had..."

She trailed off, another cry leaving her shaking lips, "I wouldn't have not eaten or slept. I would have taken care of myself."

Steve inhaled sharply as his eyes widened a bit, "Jessica?"

"I woke up in so much pain," Jessica's chest moved rapidly, vision blurred by her burning tears that raced down her cheeks, "Stiles found me... god there was so much blood, Steve. He had to carry me to the car, we were both so stained in red."

Jessica shakily cupped Steve's cheeks, the man's jaw shaking, "I'm so sorry, Steve. I'm so sorry. I didn't know."

"Are you telling me what I think you are?" Steve's voice wasn't almost there, breathless words managing to leave his trembling lips.

Jessica couldn't see Steve through the tears as she let out a loud sob, shoulders shaking in sorrow when her hands fell from her husband's shoulders. Hot tears rolled down her face and neck as her head fell into her hands, the pain of her loss vibrating throughout her entire body once more.

Steve felt like he was spinning, thoughts running wind as his hands dropped into his lap.

Jessica had been pregnant when he left her.

His legs shook as he stood from the couch, the man gripping at his hair while his other hand covered his mouth in shock. Steve couldn't help the tears that streamed down his cheeks, chest rapidly moving.

The couple's cry matched one another as Steve turned back to a sobbing Jessica, black track marks running down her face from her now messed up make up. Steve shakily walked over to Jessica and fell to the ground beside her, gripping onto the woman's legs.

Jessica wrapped her arms around Steve's head that buried itself into her lap, her fingers at the nape of his neck. A quiet understanding was made, the two both apologizing to one another through their touch.

Though they knew it was neither of their faults, Steve was pained that he wasn't there for his wife, all while Jessica was wounded from the thought that this was, in fact, still all her fault. Perhaps if she had done something differently, mourned properly instead of dwelling on the sorrow she fell, their child would have been alive.

There was no happy ending to the situation, there would always be an empty void that could never be filled. But, amongst the loss the couple felt, they still were overwhelmed with their vow of unity they had made seventy-one years ago.

Through better or for worse.

"It wasn't your fault," Steve croaked after a moment, his blue eyes almost a grey from tears, "You didn't know."

Jessica pulled his face from her jeans that were stained with his tears and cupped his face, "I didn't. If I had..."

The woman trailed off, not being able to say the words through her trembling lips. She felt so small with Steve by her side, as she had once with her father.

It was as if she was physically waiting to be yelled at, cursed to damnation for her wickedness the elder man claimed her to have. But it never came.

Of course it wouldn't, it was Steve after all. Even more so, it was her Steve.

The gentle boy she had met that day on the beach, ears tinged with what she at the time thought was a sunburn, but happened to be the first blush she would ever give him. Or the boy that she held when his mother had passed, his shoulder wracking sobs enveloping the nursing station they had stumbled into when told the news.

That was the boy crying in front of her today, his eyes lachrymose as she took in the man she had fallen in love with.

"I'm just sorry," Jessica finally managed to finish, voice raspy and hoarse.

Steve placed his hands on hers, moving slightly to the side to kiss the inside of her palm.

"I am, too," He whispered through the thickness held in the back of his throat, "Jessica, baby, this wasn't your fault. Nothing we could have prevented this."

"I know, but," She trailed off, sniffing loudly, "We lost a baby."

Steve let out a small sob at that, moving to grab Jessica's face as she still held his. He placed his forehead on hers, the couple closing their eyes at the feeling while silent tears still stained their faces.

Silence overcame them beside small sniffs of grief, Steve and Jessica being unable to breathe through their noses.

"It wasn't your fault, Jessica Lynne," Steve stayed wrapped up in her, his breath hitting her lips, "Please don't blame yourself."

Jessica whimpered softly, jaw tensing as she squeezed her eyes closed tighter, "It was my body. It was my grief that did this."

"No," Steve softly whispered, thumb running up her cheekbone as he pulled back slightly to see her, "No, Jess. Sometimes things just happen. Not for a reason. They just happen. And it's not fair, it's not. And loss knows no timeline, but one day, hopefully the guilt is gone. No one could have stopped it."

The redheaded woman's eyes burned as she opened them, more tears falling, "You're not mad at me?"

"God, no," Steve shook his head, kissing the space between her brows lightly, "No, Jess, how could I be mad at my favorite girl for something out of her control?"

A weak whimper left the woman and she wrapped her arms around Steve's shoulders, burying her head in his neck. Steve's hands found her waist as their bodies pressed against one another, body heat enveloping them in a calming sullenness.

The couple was like this for what felt like minutes, simply holding one another as much as they could, afraid that the other would slip through their fingers if they didn't. Jessica's eyes were closed against Steve's skin, chest now moving steadily against his.

Steve ran his fingers through his wife's hair, body entangled with Jessica's as her legs were on either side of his waist to be as close as possible to him. He slowly swayed them back and forth on the couch, the movement calming the pair enough to be dry-eyed once they pulled back.

Jessica and Steve met eyes and though red, they held every ounce of love they had for the person staring back into them.

"I love you, hero" Jessica's voice was still rough, the woman having to clear her throat, "I hope you know that."

"I love you, Jess. I hope you know that."

Jessica's lips curled subconsciously, though not causing the usual dimples that adorned her cheeks to protrude.

"I do," She nodded, "I always have."

Steve held the same look, "I have, too."

Hours later, the couple had finished packing, a melancholy imprint seemingly hovering over for the rest of the day.

Though they were able to make small conversations, even a few laughs, the thought of their unborn child was heavy in the air making it seemingly impossible to enjoy anything that came of their day.

The couple had decided that they would move the boxes to storage and the Avengers tower the next day, Steve's mattress sitting in the now empty bedroom beside a floor lamp and laptop.

Steve and Jessica were seated atop the mattress, the woman sitting crisscrossed with her feet slightly under her while Steve's back was against the wall, feet straight out. The laptop was playing one of the shows Steve claimed to love, which was in black and white, the plug across the blanket on the bed to keep it charged in front of the pair.

Paperboard takeout boxes were strewn around the bed which was their makeshift table, the smell of Chinese food overcoming Jessica and Steve, who hadn't eaten since their journey to Washington D.C in the early morning.

They once again found themselves in a lull, numb moment, eating silently as the fake comedic laughter echoed throughout the air. Jessica felt like there was so much to say to the man, the urge to apologize mustering through her chest once more.

Though she knew he would never accept, and for some reason, she understood it to not be her fault as well, she couldn't help it; it was as if their was a constant voice nagging at her to tear her own esteem down, the guilt spilling out from the pit of her stomach onto her tongue that she had to bite.

She filled the urge by eating, chopsticks holding as much noodles as possible to fill her mouth.

Jessica was so in her own head that she only heard Steve say her name after the third time, her head whipping around to him with widened eyes.

"Yeah?" She swallowed her food, wiping her mouth of grease with the back of her hand.

Steve looked to her with concern, the woman immediately noticing the dark circles and red splotches that adored his skin.

"Are you okay?" Steve asked, placing his hand on her thigh. Jessica licked her lips, shrugging a bit, "No. I don't think I am if I'm being honest."

He sighed, nodding, "I know. All pain heals in time, Jess."

"No, it doesn't," Jessica whispered, giving Steve a grim smile making him frown, "The pain is still as bad is was when it happened, you just... somehow learn to live with the pain."

Steve grasped onto her hand, squeezing it once as he said, "Then we can do that, as long as we have one another."

Jessica pushed out a long breath, her body slumping into Steve's shoulder while her legs fell on his lap. She cradled her food against her chest, lips pursed as she held an exasperated expression.

"You always know how to say the right thing," She muttered, stabbing her food with her chopsticks, "It's annoying."

Steve lightheartedly chuckled, smile not reaching his eyes as he spoke, "You know you like it."

"I guess you're right," Jess rolled her eyes, "I just like you."

"Yeah?" Steve craned his neck to look down at her.

Jess met his eyes and their noses almost touched as she said, "Yeah, just a little though."

"Ah, well hopefully I get you to like me a bit more," Steve joked, watching as Jessica ate another mouthful of her spicy noodles.

She rolled her eyes, speaking through her food, "I think you could do that."

The two continued to eat while their show ended, another episode automatically playing after the credits scrolled through the screen. When Jessica was done with her dinner, she placed her empty takeout box in the paper bag it came in, stretching her bones after.

She reached toward her sock covered toes, Steve eyeing her bare back as her sweater rose to the tops of her ribs, showing her undergarments. He furrowed his brow and leaned forward, his warm hand on her chilled skin causing her to jump slightly.

"Jess, what is that?" He ran his thumb over a red scar on her skin, voice full of concern.

Jess turned her head, shrugging as she whispered, "It was a knife wound. Bucky patched me up."

"When did that happen?"

The woman was quiet for a moment, eyes almost glazed over in thought before she said, "Training. That's what happens when you have five assets gain up on you."

"Who were they?" Steve whispered, "What year?"

Jessica's jaw clenched as she shook her head, not wanting to think of her time being held captive by Hydra.

"Others."

She stood and walked over to her duffle bag she had packed, pulling out a fresh pair of pajamas before going to Steve's on-suite bathroom. Jess stopped as she saw Steve standing behind her in the mirror, her hand clutching onto the door handle when a sigh left her lips.

Jessica turned and met his eyes, giving him a grimace, "And it was 1991."

The woman turned and shut the door, Steve sighing as he heard the water begin to run. He couldn't even imagine what she had gone through, half of him not even wanting to know.

Steve concluded that Jessica Lynne had gone through more than he had in his entire lifetime, losing everything that was ever important to her in such a short amount of time. The man gripped onto the back of his neck before grabbing the bag of their trash, walking out of the room and throwing it away properly.

He stopped when he reached the window in the hall, looking at the a multitude of books that needed to be packed stacked into a neat pile. Steve furrowed his brows when he saw Jessica's grimoire that Peggy had given him the day Nick Fury was shot, grabbing it quickly.

His lips curled into a light smile as he remembered all the days Jessica would write in it before bed, the woman never letting him see it. Steve's face somberly fell when he remembered Peggy's words, a questionable expression painting his features as he took them in.

"Everything in the back is the most important."

Of course with everything going on, the man was unable to read it, having completely forgotten about it until he saw it under the moonlight that came through the window. He untied the leather-bound journal, a smile immediately coming to his face when he saw Jessica's cursive writing in dark ink.

Steve flipped through the pages of many different herbs and folk magic spells, crystals and moon phases that were colored and labeled in pristine writing. He couldn't help but be amazed that Jessica knew everything about being a green witch, down to which tea was helpful to stabilize each mood.

He quickly turned to the back portion where Jessica kept a small journal, telling about how she felt about the Earth and small writings of her day. Steve chuckled when he read over her words about how they got together, lips tingling as she described the feeling of being at home when he kissed her back for the first time.

The man continued through, skipping pages until he was in the last five pages, brows furrowing as he noticed her handwriting changing. The words were crude and in deep red, though they had been in black beforehand, Steve running a finger over it to see it come off a bit on his finger.

Steve brought his thumb to his nose, cringing a bit.

"Crayon?" He whispered to himself, knowing Jessica only used pen or colored pencils for the herb sketches.

He began reading, squinting to be able to make out some words that were not fully comprehendible.

The pain was excruciating, almost indescribable. Mentally I feel as though someone stuck their hand through my chest, I even wish someone had compared to this. I feel like a failure. I couldn't help Bucky and Steve, or my child. The one thing I am supposed to do as a mother, I failed at.

I wasn't able to protect them and it's all my fault. I was selfish and only cared about my emotional pain. I was punished with the physical pain, I think. Feeling the agonizing tightening and spasming of my muscles was enough to make me lose my breath. The pain in my spine made my entire body numb, as though I was paralyzed and on fire at the same time. The cramps and stabbing even went to my thighs, spreading throughout me entirely.

God the blood. I ruined the sheets and mattress. Lydia and Steve immediately went out and bought another one but that didn't help. I still remember what happened.

Steve pulled back from the grimoire for a moment, chin quivering from the force of his clenched jaw tightening. He couldn't imagine the amount of pain his wife was in and it killed him to not be able to take it from her.

Steve Rogers let out a long breath, swallowing the emotion that began to build up in the back of his throat before beginning to read once more.

I feel alone. It's not fair, I have Lydia, Stiles and the kids, but it's not the same. I need Steve but he's gone. And now our child is gone, too. All because of me. I suppose the punishment of all of this is being what I am. A damn banshee. To lose everything is one thing, but the fear and overwhelming dread when those whispers come... to feel their soul?

Steve noticed the dry tear stains throughout the page.

It's beyond any word created. The dire agony is heartbreaking. I couldn't stop it. I couldn't stop anything. It feels like my entire world is crashing down on me and I'm being held underwater, unable to breath. My lungs burn from crying, each breath feels as though my body is crying. My eyes are blurry even writing this. All I feel is loss. The whispers are endless and this time they're saying my name. I don't know why, maybe it's because I feel dead.

Steve let out a loud sob as he took in the final sentence, slamming the book shut as he began to cry. He threw the grimoire on the floor, leaning against the wall while the words fully engraved into his head.

I wish I was dead.

Steve kicked himself off the wall and almost ran to the bathroom, not bothering to knock. He pulled the shower curtain back to see Jessica sitting on the bottom of the tub, green eyes on him as she held herself under the water.

"Steve?"

The man didn't answer as he stepped in the shower fully clothed, kneeling down beside her as he took her in his arms. Jessica immediately wrapped her arms around his neck, the couple not caring that Steve was being immersed in the water and Jessica was indecent.

The redheaded woman held Steve as his shoulders shook in heartache, the man practically holding her in his lap while his head found itself in her neck. Jessica's eyes were closed tightly, tears mixing with the hot water from the showerhead that poured atop of them.

"I'm so sorry," She whispered over again, somehow knowing exactly what the man was upset about.

He only continued to hold her, hands gripping at her waist tight enough to leave imprints of this thumbs. Steve pulled back after a moment and wiped away her wet hair to see her eyes, placing his forehead on hers.

"I'm so sorry," He sobbed, voice shaking with raw emotion, "I'm so sorry I wasn't there. I was supposed to protect you both. I failed as a husband and father."

"No," Jessica cried, tears falling down her face, "No, Steve. This is not your fault. You didn't know."

Steve hiccupped, spitting out the water that was hitting his face from above, "It wasn't yours either. I don't blame you. You didn't know."

Jessica let out a whine of pain, chest shaking in grief as she took in his words. Somehow hearing it made Jessica believe that it wasn't her fault, the heaviness leaving for a moment.

"I didn't know," She reiterated, "I promise I would have done anything to change what happened."

"I would, too."

Jessica almost melted through her tears, the woman softening at the sight of the man before her that almost looked small.

She couldn't help but warm at the feeling of love for him, knowing that this, in fact, would be one of their most intimate moments together; sharing one another's pain and being completely vulnerable with all their walls down.

She wiped the mixture of water and tears under his eyes, a cold shiver running up her back as a brush of air hit her bare back against the warmth of his skin on it. Jessica gulped her emotions, suppressing them down once more as she stared into the blue eyes of the man she couldn't help but be completely in love with.

"I love you, Steve Rogers," She almost cried once more, "Please don't leave me again."

"No. I'm never leaving you again. Ever."

Jessica couldn't help the melancholy smile that overcame her lips, a combination of a laugh and cry leaving her mouth. The woman closed her eyes and held his jaw, leaning forward before pressing her lips against his in a soft, supple kiss.

There was no lust when Steve moved his mouth against hers, holding her tighter against his clothed chest that was dripping wet.

The kiss was gentle and promising, a commitment being made to one another though their tender movements and soft cries that still managed to escape.

The pair was in love and they would do anything to protect one another.

And they weren't going anywhere.

✧

AN: This chapter was so hard to write. I hope I was able to convey their feelings properly for the situation. I wanted to signify that they were mourning and in pain, that their feeling of loss was valid without pushing blame onto the other person.

It was in no way either of their faults and I hope that was shown.