Part one of this is in Book 2

You had been with Steve for months now, in a relationship hinging on the understanding that you likely would never agree when you were working together, so you maintained a very intricate dance around that, keeping your work and private life as separate as possible. Your time alone was always sweet but passionate, and something that you valued very much, given that your work relationship was filled with aggravation, tension, and verbal spars that left him wishing that he was still iced to soothe the burns you left behind.

He couldn't help but love that side of you, even though he would vehemently deny it if he were asked about it directly. You pissed him off like no one else could, and you called him out on every little indiscretion and overstepping of his legendary ego, but he readily returned the favor when you did the same. Natasha insisted that he had never seemed happier than since the two of you had started seeing each other outside of work, but you certainly wouldn't be able to tell that once the time clock was punched.

"The level of stupidity that you've just hit is unbelievable," you snarled, throwing your gloves at him one at a time from the door of the quinjet. "How dare you interfere with my work out there, Steve? You assigned me to this mission for a reason, so back off and let me do my damn job!"

"You were being reckless!" he argued without missing a beat, throwing your gloves back with the same fervor. "If I hadn't have stopped you, you'd be dead right now!"

"You don't know that!"

"I sure as hell do!"

"Oh, wow!" you gasped, looking around at the rest of your team with wide eyes. "Did you guys know that Steve could see the future? I sure don't remember seeing precognition on your embellished resume of vaguely defined superpowers! I only recall super-throwing, super-catching, and super-jumping out of stuff!"

"Oh my god," Clint gasped, taking the response that he had become popular for with each argument he witnessed. As usual, Nat was at his side, listening along with an entertained smirk. "I need to write those down for later."

"Shhh," she warned, shaking his hand from her arm.

Steve closed his eyes and took a long, shaky breath, pressing his hands to his hips as he steadied himself and tried to calm the building rage that was leaving his muscles tight and ready to strike out. He would never get physical with you during an argument, but dammit if that wouldn't feel great to knock you on your ass just once. "(Y/N), don't make me suspend you over this."

Your expression cleared and grew dark at the threat; you took a few small steps towards him, your jaw set defiantly and your tone steady. "You wouldn't dare."

"Try me."

"Steve," Nat finally interrupted, "listen, let's just take a minute-"

Her words were cut off when a blast hit the side of the jet, still parked at the mission site. Clint grabbed his bow from where it had rested against the bulkhead, following Natasha out and back into battle. Steve gave you a fast glance that carried both his authority and his worry, almost begging you to be more careful than you had just been during your last attempt out there. Taking your gloves from the floor and with a tap on your holster to be sure your gun was in place, you nodded to him and led the way, ignoring his attempt to hold the shield in front of you both as you ran into open fire.

But as it would turn out, it wouldn't be you who needed the shield anyway; Clint and Nat were left to hold their own after a blast took Steve to the ground, and you refused to do anything other than dragging him back onto the jet. The man weighed a ton even when he could help, but now that he was unconscious it was nearly impossible to move him; thankful to your surge of adrenaline, you pulled him up the ramp and just into the cabin before you collapsed in exhaustion.

"Steve! Steve, come on, wake up!" you tried, resting your head against his chest to listen for a heartbeat and to feel him breathing. "Okay, just stay with me, alright? We're getting you home." You stood and ran back to the door, your legs stumbling and feeling like jelly as you moved, needing to grip the walls to hold yourself up. "Guys, let's go! Fall back! We need to get him outta here!"

Nat ran in first, scurrying over Steve and to the pilot seat, frantically punching in commands to get the jet in the air. Clint was close behind, barely getting the door closed before the enemy could close in, hearing strikes hitting the outside of barrier that were meant for each of you. "Is he okay?" she called out to you, barely able to look back to see for herself.

"He's out, but he's breathing," you answered with a thankful sigh. "What the hell kind of weapons were those? I haven't seen anything like that before."

"We have," Clint replied, equally out of breath, "but I thought we got the last of them in Sokovia. I guess we missed a few."

"No, these were different, Clint," Nat added. "Higher pitch, and the color was...darker, I don't know. I can't put my finger on it, but they weren't the same as Sokovia. Steve took a few hits there and it never brought him down like this."

~~~

Back at the compound, Steve was taken away and brought to the medical bay as soon as the jet landed, but you were directed to wait until they had stabilized him before you could see him again. You took your place in the hallway just outside the door, waiting as patiently as you could, but anyone who knew you at all would realize that it was a ridiculous thing to ask. Twice now, you had pushed your way into the room, only to find yourself face-to-face with the Hulk and his massive hand holding you into the chair with a growl of warning to not try him again. You felt remorse at making Bruce go to that extreme to stop you, but not so much that you weren't about to give it a third attempt.

"Hey, (Y/N)," Sam greeted cheerfully as he approached, "how's he doing?"

"I was just about to go in and check."

"I know, FRIDAY told me," he smiled. "I had to haul ass to get up here in time to stop you. You can't keep making Banner go green, honey. That's just mean. And I know," he smiled, his hand up to stop your argument, "you're a mean lady, but that's too far for even you."

"I'm not a mean lady," you huffed, crossing your arms and turning away from him.

"You ain't a nice one."

"Shut up, Sam. I can be...if I have to...I can fake it."

The retort was sure to be epic and in pure Wilson fashion, but it would have to wait; Bruce peeked his head from the door of the infirmary and summoned him over without making any eye contact with you. All it did was enrage and worry you, but you forced yourself to remain silent and hope for the best.

"Really?" you heard Sam utter as he glanced back at you. "Okay, I'll tell her." With a heavy exhalation, he returned to sit at your side, his hands up to hold you back in case his message backfired. "Steve's awake...but he doesn't want to see you."

"Well that's just too damn bad," you stood and pushed against him. He reached out and pushed back, just as you expected. "Sam, come on! Put yourself in my shoes for just a second, okay? What if that was someone you loved-" you stopped, closing your mouth and looking away, trying to avoid the inevitable spill of tears that he was certain to give you endless crap about.

"Go," Sam said instead, stepping back with a strange change in attitude, "I'll cover ya."

"You will? Why?"

"You love him," he shrugged. "I didn't know that."

"Yeah, well apparently neither does he," you mumbled under your breath, taking his offer to let you in. Bruce stepped up quickly to stop you again, as he had already done more than enough, but Sam held good on his word and pushed himself between the two of you to let you pass.

Nothing that any of them could say would prepare you for what you were about to see. He had told you stories about the Steve Rogers he used to be before the serum, and the team gave him endless ridicule about it, but to see this with your own eyes was shocking, to be honest. As you approached Steve's bedside, you barely recognized him; he had to be shorter than you now and the blanket draped over him with a drowning weight. If it weren't for the look in his eyes, and their color that could only belong to him, you might have mistaken him for someone else.

"I told them to not let you in here," he greeted coldly, turning his head away.

"They listen about as well as I do."

"Suppose I should've known as much."

"Hey," you snapped, "what happened to our rule about only fighting at work?"

"Pfft, like we'll ever be working together now, after this," Steve scoffed. "Like we'll ever..." he stopped with a shake of his head, and a quiet sniffle that didn't escape you, "like we'll ever be anything."

"Wow, I thought that after all this time, your idea of me had gotten better. I've gotta say, I never knew that you thought I was so shallow."

"I never...I didn't," he argued, finally turning his head back to see you, "I don't. But, (Y/N), come on, this isn't-"

"This isn't going to change that I love you." You waited for him to say something back, even if it weren't a return of the feelings, but instead, all you got in reply was his stunned stare. "Hey, I can be nice. Sam said that I'm a mean lady, but I have my moments, you jackass."

"Clearly. I love you too," he answered readily, "but honey, this isn't what you want. Trust me. You don't want to line up to dance with a guy you might step on."

"That's the first time we've said that. That love word," you deflected, smiling enough to get him to follow suit. Anything that you could say or do to get him to understand that you meant what you said and that you were staying at his side was worth a shot. You stepped up closer, almost shyly, your hands behind your back so that you wouldn't touch this new version of him unless he was ready.

"Yes, it is."

"It's true."

"Yes, it is," he repeated, "but what are you doing?"

"I'm planning on kissing you now, if you insist on ruining the surprise."

Instead of the usual agreement of meeting you halfway, Steve balked and leaned away; it was uncomfortable and foreign to feel the rejection, even though you knew why. That didn't matter, and it hurt nonetheless. "Steve-"

"(Y/N)," he began quietly, "I just don't want you to be disappointed. I'm not the man that I was even yesterday. If this is permanent, then I'll never be him again, and this isn't who you got into this relationship for. I don't think that I can stand to see the look on your face when that realization hits."

"Then close your eyes."

He did as he was told, closing his eyes with the full expectation that when he opened them again, you would be gone because you understood that he was right. As his lids met, he held his breath and waited, wondering how long he should hold that way before he opened them again, and unsure of how he was going to survive that first look of emptiness where you had just stood. He was unsure of how he was going to survive this life without you at his side. Your relationship was tumultuous, sure, but it was like nothing he had ever experienced before, and he would miss it like nothing else. He was just about to open his eyes again, but his breath caught in his chest at the feeling of your lips meeting his, and he responded eagerly, more desperate now than ever to keep you there.

~~~

The weeks passed by with no sign of change back to the life of Captain America that Steve had known. He didn't take part in missions, of course, but he was still instrumental in tactical planning and team operations; at first, he thought Tony was handing out charity to keep him happy, but he came around to the understanding that he really was needed and things began to make sense again. Your teammates started to see Steve as just Steve, and not as Cap, and it became the norm. The shock of his new appearance was wearing off, and each day that passed was a welcome sign that he was settling into the life as well.

"It weird, with you being taller than me now," he smiled, helping you put on your gear for another mission. He had to push up on his toes just to reach the harness connection that sat at the top of your shoulder. "I was so used to towering over everyone that I forgot what it was like down here."

"Steve, you're not that tiny."

"That's generous, doll, thanks."

"You're not," you insisted, "I think it's cute."

"Well, that is what I was going for when I took that hit. Shrink me down to pocket-sized cute." His hands danced over the last few snaps of your jacket and secured the final strap over your holster, but he stopped just before it was connected, taking a shaky breath and letting out a small groan.

"Hey, you okay?" you asked worriedly, turning to see him. He looked pale, and not the same pale that he'd been carrying for the last few weeks since his transformation. "Steve, you don't look so good."

"Nah, I'm alright," he waved you off dismissively, "just tired. I'll grab a quick nap while you're gone. Tell Barton to fly safe. I'll see you when you get back." After a quick kiss goodbye and barely another sound out of him, he left the jet and hurried to the door, disappearing towards his room and leaving you to try to focus on the job at hand when all you could think about was what was happening here. Grabbing your phone, you sent a text out to Sam, asking him to report back the second that anything changed.

~~~

Once the mission was over, you sat on the jet with your phone in hand, staring at it as if a message would vibrate through it at any second. Of course, no news was supposed to mean good news, and that Sam had nothing to report, but still, your mind raced with possibilities and worry, so you rebooted your phone several times just to be sure that it was working. You had checked that your notifications were on and that it wasn't set to silent so many times that even Clint could tell you the settings without ever laying eyes on it.

As soon as the plane was secure in the hangar, you practically sprinted up to his room, stumbling a bit in the darkness that filled the hallways since you had come home much later than planned. With a gentle hand, you pushed the door to Steve's room open and peeked inside, your nerves calming at the sound of his breaths, slow and rhythmic as he slept. You had missed him while you were gone, exacerbated by the worry that you had been carrying the entire time. You wanted nothing more than to be next to him, merely to soothe your nerves if nothing more, so you stopped by your own room to change out of your suit and into your pajamas, quickly making your way back to carefully lie down next to him only to fall into sleep before he woke to notice you there.

Even before your eyes opened the next morning, you could feel that you were being watched. You and Steve had been together for quite a while now, but it must have still come as a surprise to him to wake up and unexpectedly find you there. You opened your eyes and readied yourself to explain, but you were left with a hanging mouth and a silenced voice at the sight of your Captain in front of you once again.

"Steve?"

"Did you forget so quickly?"

"No! No, it's not that," you gasped, sitting up quickly to meet him, "it's just...how? When?"

"After you left I came up here and went to sleep, just exhausted like crazy. I was sick all night, and I must've finally gotten back to sleep just before you showed up because I don't remember you coming in. I woke up about an hour ago and here I am, back to normal."

Your hand slowly grazed over his chest, taking in the feeling that you had missed so desperately, but that you didn't have the heart to tell him about before. Of course you had mourned the loss of this version of him, but you were being honest when you said that it didn't change how you felt. You loved Steve no matter if he were this or the smaller version of himself, but you wouldn't lie and say that you didn't have a preference between the two. "How do you feel?"

He smirked, considering his answer carefully before reaching out to grab your waist and pull you into him, the muscular arms that you had missed so much holding you so tight that you could barely breathe. His voice was deep and warm, carried in the breath that caressed your skin as he spoke.

"Taller."