falling together
authors note: if you're new here welcome, if not you know what's going to happen, spoilers sort of for the bolts of thunder. comfort fic, and just know that if you ever need to talk to anyone about anything even if its just to nerd out and make a friend please know my messages are always open and that i see all of you and i love all of you unconditionally. anyway, proceed with the bob fic.
If you heard one more bit of bickering, you were going to snap.
Between the phone calls between Sam and Bucky arguing with each other under the table away from their legal guidance, the girls and Walker fighting over stupid little comments he just had to make for no discernable reason, and Alexei walking around screaming instead of just talking about everything, you were practically picking at your skin to get out of the general living spaces.
It wasn't even that they were at each other's head that the tension was too much, it was actually more the noise of it all. Most annoying was the way that everyone thought they could talk to you about all of their issues all day every day and of course you cared and of course you wanted to listen. But my god it was practically useless, any and all advice you gave was just thrown away in an instant. Once that gratification of having a solution was there, it was like the issue never existed to them at all.
So there you sat on your comforter, bed still perfectly made with earbuds in as loud as you could get them with the noise cancellation on and the Do Not Disturb function on—even if no one texted you, your phone would be certain to tell you your volume was absurdly loud and ruining your ears.
You would have rather had the TV on as some mindless noise and to play on the phone, but then there was a chance one of them would happen to hear you sitting there and invade your space some more. Worse, they might try to watch TV with you and then that would lead to everyone eventually being in your room and possibly bickering.
With your phone thrown to the foot of your bed, you laid your head on your pillow. It felt odd to lay there without a blanket or source of warmth, in fact the thought gave you cold chills despite the perfect temperature being in the room. Not usually choosing to lay on your back for comfort, your arms and hands were unsure of what to do. So they laid gently in your lap and all you could hear was music, and all you could feel eventually turned into basically nothing.
Peace was overwhelming, so much so that it made you succumb to one of the most simple things peace could grant you. A fucking nap.
Headphones laid silently in your ears, your phone was somewhere not bugging you, until all of a sudden your body was made aware that it existed again. Unsure quite yet, you remained in a sleepy haze, until your body connected all of the dots: you were being very gently shaken.
Ordinarily, the correct response would be to sit up and see what was needed, maybe even smile and stretch out while listening. Instead, grabbing the hand and pushing backwards was the choice made without your eyelids even opening to see who or what was going on.
"I-I'm sorry, I just... I thought."
Fuck.
You could hear the voice past the noise cancellation, though it was muffled it made you sit up and rip the earbuds out, throwing them haphazardly around the bed and look to the space nearest your bed that was now entirely void of anyone.
Making your hands into fists, you shook them as you got out of bed and rushed down the hall to catch up.
"Wait, wait, wait," you were whispering-yelling, seeing that the day had come to be dark and you knew that the older folk did in fact prefer their sleep to start around then.
Chasing him made you think: when was the last time you saw him? You had been noticing everything else and focusing on everything at once, but when was the last time you had seen Robert?
You tried to count back the days, but it blurred together. Had it been two? Three? More?
That realization hit like a gut punch. You had been so wrapped up in managing everyone else’s meltdowns that you hadn’t noticed your own world—the one person who mattered most—slipping into the background.
Your bare feet padded against the cool floor as you turned the corner. “Robert!” you hissed, still trying not to shout.
He was already at the far end of the hallway, just about to turn the corner. His shoulders hunched like he was trying to make himself smaller, like disappearing would be easier than confronting… you.
You hated that. You hated that he thought he needed to hide from you.
“Hey,” you said, softer this time, voice catching up to your feet as you got closer. “Baby. Stop.”
And he did.
He didn’t turn around right away, but he stopped, head tilted like he was deciding if facing you would make everything worse. You reached out, your hand brushing his arm gently, and only then did he finally look at you.
His eyes were red. Not glowing with power, not burning with rage. Just… tired. So very tired.
“Oh, Rob…” you whispered, stepping in closer and wrapping your arms around his waist before he could say anything else.
He stood stiffly for a second, frozen in place like a man not used to comfort—but then he melted into you, arms coming up around your shoulders like he needed you to hold him together.
You buried your face against his chest and just held him. Not as Sentry. Not as some all-powerful being barely containing a force of destruction inside him. Just Robert. Your Robert.
“I didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbled into your hair. “You looked so peaceful. I just—I didn’t wanna be alone anymore.”
Your heart shattered in slow motion. You leaned back just enough to see his face, cupping it in your hands.
“I’m so sorry. I should’ve seen it. I should’ve felt it.”
He shook his head. “You’ve been dealing with so much. I didn’t wanna add to it.”
“You don’t add to anything, Rob,” you said fiercely. “You’re not a burden. You’re not too much. You’re mine. And I want to be here for you the way you are for me.”
The silence between you was heavy but tender, like neither of you needed to speak to be understood. You guided him gently back toward the bedroom, fingers entwined with his, thumb brushing against his knuckles with each step.
Once there, you sat him down and climbed onto the bed beside him, pulling a blanket off the top of the bed frame over both of you. Your hands never left him—one stroking up and down his arm, the other resting on his chest where you could feel the steady, if somewhat erratic, beat of his heart.
He laid his head in your lap without asking. You threaded your fingers through his hair, soothing in slow, rhythmic movements.
He didn’t say anything after that. Not for a while.
You could feel him trying to breathe slowly—trying to make it look effortless, like nothing was wrong. But you knew him. You knew the way his body carried pain. You could feel it beneath your fingertips in the tension of his shoulders, in the way he held his jaw like it might fall apart if he let it go slack.
He wasn’t okay. And he hadn’t been for a while.
You let your fingers trail gently over his scalp, his hair soft and curling around your knuckles as you combed through it again and again. That kind of touch didn’t fix things. But it reminded him—hopefully—that he was here. That someone saw him. That he mattered.
The room was dark except for the soft golden spill of a bedside lamp, and the music had long since stopped. But it was quiet now. Finally, quiet. And for the first time in days, maybe weeks, you weren’t dreading the silence. It was giving him room to breathe.
You felt his voice before you heard it—a small tremble in his chest.
“I don’t know who I am sometimes,” he whispered. “I wake up and there’s this fog, and I try to remember what it felt like to be… human. But it’s like the edges are gone. I keep reaching for myself and finding nothing.”
Your hand stilled for a moment. You let his words settle before you spoke.
“I see you,” you said softly. “Even when you can’t. I see Robert. I don’t love you because you’re strong. Or because you’re the Sentry. I love you because… when you talk to plants, you whisper. Because you always wait for people to catch up, even though you could fly ahead. Because you care, so much, it hurts you. And I know that doesn’t feel like enough to you right now. But it’s still you.”
His fingers curled in your blanket, gripping tight. “You make it sound so easy.”
“It’s not,” you admitted. “It’s not easy to hold on when you’re falling apart. But you don’t have to do it alone. I’m here. Even when it’s dark. Especially when it’s dark.”
He blinked up at you slowly, eyes glassy and red-rimmed. There wasn’t drama in his crying—no shaking sobs or heaving breaths. Just quiet tears that he didn’t bother to wipe away.
Maybe that was worse. He was always so quiet when he was slipping.
You reached down and brushed one away with your thumb, as gently as you could. Like you were afraid you’d break him by accident.
“I’m scared of being loved,” he confessed. “Because if you really knew how broken I am, you wouldn’t love me anymore. And then I’d lose the only thing keeping the Void from swallowing me.”
Your chest ached in that deep, marrow-level way only grief and love and helplessness can cause.
“I have seen it,” you said. “I’ve seen the cracks. I’ve seen the days you can’t talk. I’ve seen you stare at walls like they’re screaming at you. And I still love you. Not because I’m delusional. Because I chose to love all of you. Even the parts that hurt.”
He closed his eyes, and you felt the air go out of him in a slow, trembling exhale.
“Okay,” he said.
It was a small word. Quiet. Shaky.
But it meant he believed you. Maybe not all the way. Maybe not forever. But right now.
He believed you.
You hesitated for a moment, then gently tugged the sleeve of your hoodie down past your wrist. Quietly, without saying anything, you wrapped it around his hand—his left wrist, the one he always rubbed raw when he was struggling but trying not to show it. The fabric hung a little loose, warm from your skin. You placed your hand over his, like sealing a promise.
“Hold onto this,” you whispered. “If you ever forget, just look at it. Or touch it. Or... just know I gave it to you because I love you. Not the powerful part. Not the superhero. Just you.”
His breath hitched again, but this time it wasn’t panic. It was something closer to relief. He didn’t say anything. He just curled his fingers around the cuff and nodded like he’d just been handed a lifeline.
So you stayed like that. One hand in his hair, the other wrapped around him. Guarding him not from the world, but from that part of himself he kept caged and silent and hurting.
You didn’t need to save him. He wasn’t a problem to solve.
He just needed you to stay.
And you would. For as long as he needed.
