The Abyss @paradoxrose - Tumblr Blog

20h

Hold Fast: Blast Radius

Series Summary: Steve Rogers is used to leaving once the crisis is over. But after Hurricane Cora devastates a small Texas town, recovery stretches into weeks of flooded roads, crowded shelters, and rebuilding beside someone who seems determined to hold the entire town together alone. Somewhere in the middle of it, staying in each other’s lives stops feeling temporary.

Chapter Summary: You told Steve to think before he acted. For once, he let himself slow down and do just that. Some things break all at once. Others break so slowly you don't notice until the pieces stop moving.

Words:, 4,437

A/N: I apologize for the delay in posting. Life sometimes sucks. Anyway, here is the next chapter. Your author lives on feedback. All errors are mine.

Chapter warnings: Talk of infidelity. Swearing.

Series warnings: Disaster Relief!Steve Rogers x Community Leader!fem!Reader; Steve Rogers x Peggy Carter; Slow Burn; Emotional Infidelity; Eventual Romance; Eventual SMUT

Disclaimer: I own nothing. No copyright infringement intended. This is not written for profit.

Part One - Part Seven

It was quiet when you woke up. Your hand was still tangled with Steve's from the night before, and you smiled a little. For a moment you just lay there listening. No sirens. No radios. No people shouting for help. Just the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the occasional noise drifting up from the firehouse below.

Turning your head, you looked at Steve. Even asleep, he looked exhausted. Some of the tension had faded from his face, but not enough. Whatever sleep he managed last night clearly had not been enough to make up for everything that had happened.

You brushed a piece of hair out of his face and made a decision. He needed rest. Carefully you slipped your hand from his and got out of bed before heading into the kitchen.

The apartment was still cool from the night air. You started a pot of coffee and made a simple breakfast of oatmeal, adding a little cinnamon for flavor while the sunlight slowly filtered through the blinds.

By the time you were filling your travel thermos, Steve wandered out of the bedroom, looking half awake. "Morning."

"Morning. Coffee?"

He nodded immediately.

You grabbed a mug and poured him a cup. "I promise it's better than hotel coffee."

That earned a weary chuckle. Steve settled onto one of the stools at the counter and wrapped both hands around the mug while you fixed him a bowl of oatmeal.

For a few minutes neither of you said much. The apartment filled with the smell of coffee and cinnamon while the quiet settled comfortably around you.

Eventually Steve glanced up. "So, community center this morning."

You bit your lip and shook your head. "No."

His brow furrowed immediately. "No?"

"You still look exhausted and you're trying to keep busy."

Steve made a noise of annoyance into his coffee.

That made you laugh. "I know. It's easier to just keep moving."

Setting the bowl down in front of him, you leaned against the counter. "But yesterday was a lot, Steve. Take the morning. Rest. Shower. Go for a walk. Process."

He stared into the oatmeal for a moment before sighing. "Yeah. Okay." He looked at you again. "Then what?"

You screwed the lid onto your thermos. "Then you meet me at Mindy's down the street for lunch." You grabbed your keys from the counter and slipped them into your pocket. "We can talk about everything then."

Steve dug into the oatmeal and let out a long breath. "You sure I can't just come with you this morning?"

You shook your head immediately. "Nope. Rest."

The look he gave you said he was not thrilled with the answer. Unfortunately for him, you were not changing your mind. On your way out you squeezed his shoulder. "Take your time to process everything before we talk."

Steve nodded slowly. Then you left him with his breakfast, his coffee, and, for the first time in a long while, nothing he absolutely had to do.

He finished his breakfast, rinsed out the bowl, and left it in the sink before pouring himself another cup of coffee.

A siren sounded somewhere below from the firehouse, and for the first time since leaving Grayport, his shoulders loosened slightly. The sound should have been annoying. Instead, it felt familiar. Comforting.

With a heavy exhale Steve sat down on the overstuffed couch and let himself think. It had been a long time since he had really stopped long enough to do that. Usually there was another deployment. Another emergency. Another report. Something else demanding his attention before he could sit with how he actually felt. Now there was nothing. Just a quiet apartment and his own thoughts.

Pulling out his phone, he scrolled through old texts and photos without any real destination in mind. The deeper he went, the more he realized how much of it involved you. Messages. Calls. Photos from Port Reyes. Updates from deployments. Dumb conversations he had forgotten about entirely.

Then he hit a picture of Peggy. His stomach twisted.

Yesterday it had felt like he was not allowed to be angry. If he was honest, he had drifted too. Maybe not the same way, but he had drifted all the same.

Now, sitting alone with nowhere to run from the thought, he realized that was not true.

He was angry. Angry at Peggy for sleeping with Jack. Angry at himself for leaning on you instead of dealing with what was wrong in his marriage. Angry at both of them for letting things get this far without saying something. That was the real problem. Not the affair. The silence. Years of it.

Years of coming home and feeling alone while sitting beside the woman he married. Years of conversations neither of them had. Years of pretending things were fine because neither of them wanted to be the first person to admit they were not. And then finding out everything had finally broken in the worst possible way.

Steve dropped his head into his hands. God, it hurt. He knew he was not innocent. He knew that. But that did not stop it from hurting.

Could Peggy not have talked to him? Could he not have talked to her? The answer to both questions was painfully obvious. Neither of them had. That was the tragedy of it. Not one mistake. Not one affair. Years of choosing silence.

His eyes drifted back to the phone in his hands. Grayport had not started any of this. But it had exposed it. That was the moment he crossed a line and finally admitted it.

You had become the first person he wanted to call. The first person he looked for. The first person he wanted to tell things to. If he was being completely honest with himself, he felt more like himself around you than he had around Peggy in years.

Even sleep came easier. At first it had been a cot in Port Reyes. Then hotel rooms during deployments after talking to you. Then Grayport. Somewhere along the way, hearing your breathing nearby became enough to quiet parts of his brain that otherwise never seemed to shut off.

A short laugh escaped him. How had he managed to lean on you so completely without stopping to examine what that meant?

Then again, maybe that was not really the question. You were not the reason his marriage ended. The marriage had been fading long before that. He had stopped turning toward Peggy years ago.

For a long time he simply sat there staring out the apartment window while the morning moved on around him. Eventually the coffee grew cold. The anger remained. The hurt remained. But for the first time in a long while the truth felt clear.

The marriage was over. Not because Peggy slept with Jack. Not because of you. Because somewhere along the way both of them had left and neither had been brave enough to say it out loud.

He finally got up, and by the time he finished, the apartment was spotless. The cleaning had given his hands something to do while his mind worked through everything else. Papers were organized. Counters wiped down. Supplies sorted into neat stacks.

For the first time in years, Steve felt like he was actually looking at what he thought instead of simply reacting to it.

Around noon he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. Locking the apartment behind him, he made his way down the stairs toward the street below. Across from the firehouse he could already see the sign for Mindy's. And for the first time that morning, he knew what he wanted to say when he got there.

Coming from the other direction, you met him at the door. "You look better."

Steve snorted. "I don't feel it."

You reached out and squeezed his arm. "Well, you do. Now let's get some food."

He followed you inside and smiled as one of the waitresses waved you toward your usual booth. "Do all the waitresses in town know you?"

Sliding into the booth, you smirked. "Well yeah. You think I actually take time to cook?"

That earned a laugh as Steve sat down across from you.

The waitress appeared a moment later, not even bothering with a menu. "Your usual, honey?"

You laughed. "Yes, please, June. And whatever my friend here orders, he wants a piece of pie too."

Steve immediately looked offended.

June only smiled and turned toward him. "What can I get you, sugar?"

He picked up the menu anyway, pretending he had options. "Unsweet tea and a club sandwich. No tomatoes."

"Sure thing."

Once she was gone, you tossed a sugar packet at him. "I've never asked. What's with you and tomatoes?"

Steve caught it and threw it right back. "I can't even remember where I was, but I got a burger with a rotten tomato on it and didn't realize until I took a bite. Completely ruined them for me."

Your face twisted in disgust. "Yeah, that'll do it."

June returned with the drinks, and both of you waited until she disappeared again before settling in properly. For a moment you just watched him over the rim of your glass.

He still looked worn out. Not physically this time. Something deeper than that. The kind of exhaustion that came after finally admitting something you had been avoiding for years.

Setting your drink down, you leaned back in the booth. "Okay."

Steve immediately knew where this was going.

You pointed at him. "Yesterday you told me you thought your marriage was over." The teasing ease that had settled between you faded slightly. "Now," you continued, "how about you explain that one?"

Steve took a sip of his tea first and rolled his shoulders, staring down into the glass. "Peggy slept with someone else."

Your eyes widened immediately. Without thinking you reached across the table and took his hand. "Wow." For a moment that was all you could manage. Quieter, you asked, "Are you okay?"

Steve squeezed your hand and let out a short humorless laugh. "No. I'm pissed." He stared out the diner window for a second before continuing.

"But not just about that." His jaw tightened. "I'm mad I thought I wasn't allowed to be mad. Mad we got to this place at all because honestly..." He shook his head. "This has been a long time coming."

You rubbed your thumb across his knuckles while trying to process everything he was saying. "Why didn't you think you could be angry?"

Finally, Steve looked up. "Because I think I left too." The words came out softer. "Just not the way Peggy did."

June appeared with both sandwiches, setting the plates down before disappearing again. Neither of you touched them immediately.

Steve looked down at the table. "I started leaning on our friendship more than my marriage." He huffed softly. "Hell, I only called Peggy once from Grayport."

The guilt was obvious. You sat with that for a moment before picking up your sandwich. "What are you going to do?"

Steve finally reached for his own lunch and took a bite before answering. "What can I do?"

He swallowed and shook his head. "As far as Peggy's concerned, I walked away a long time ago. Maybe not physically, but I did." He stared down at his plate. "And after what she did..." He let out a slow breath. "I don't think I can trust her anymore."

You took a drink of tea and sighed. "I wish I knew what to tell you to make this better, Steve." His eyes lifted to yours. "But I don't think it's that simple."

A faint smile touched his face before disappearing again. "Yeah." He scrubbed a hand over his jaw. "I think you're right."

For a few moments both of you ate silently. Then Steve reached over and spun his wedding ring, an old habit he had never really thought about before. This time he stopped. His gaze settled on the gold band. For a long moment he just stared at it.

"All these years," he said quietly. "All the disasters. Everything." His thumb brushed across the metal. "I've never taken this off."

You watched him carefully but said nothing.

Slowly Steve pulled the ring free and held it between his fingers. Not looking at you. Not looking around the diner. Just looking at the ring. The weight of it. What it meant. What it had meant.

He turned it over once as though searching for something he had missed before. Then finally he nodded to himself. "I know what I need to do."

With that he slipped the ring into his pocket, leaving behind a pale band of skin that had not seen sunlight in years.

Neither of you spoke for a while after that. The conversation had changed something. Not loudly. Not dramatically. But permanently.

The rest of lunch passed in a quieter sort of understanding. The kind that comes when there is nothing left to explain and no easy way to fix what comes next.

Together you and Steve spent the next two days at the community center. For Steve it gave him something to do with his hands while he worked through everything else. He moved boxes, organized supply closets, fixed shelves that had been leaning for years, and somehow turned cleaning out a storage room into a mission. By the end of the second day the back closet looked better than it had in years.

On the third morning Steve received a call. You watched him step outside to answer it, his expression immediately shifting into the focused look you had seen a hundred times before. When he came back inside, he was already reaching for the jacket hanging over the back of a chair.

"What's up?"

"Train derailment." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Rural Illinois."

You nodded. "When do you leave?"

"My team is heading out now." A faint smile crossed his face. "I told them I'd be a day behind."

That earned him a confused look.

Steve leaned against the desk and sighed. "I've put it off long enough." The smile faded. "I need to go home and handle things first."

You understood immediately. Nodding, you grabbed your keys from the desk. "I'll drive you to the airport."

The trip back to the apartment was quiet. Steve packed while you made sure he did not leave anything behind. His charger was still plugged into the wall beside the bed. A sweatshirt was draped over the chair in the corner. Somehow, after only a few days, little traces of him had already found their way into the apartment. Neither of you commented on it.

Once his bag was packed, the two of you headed for the airport. Steve was quiet during the drive, his attention fixed mostly out the window. The closer you got, the more distant he seemed, already turning over whatever conversation was waiting for him back home.

At the terminal you walked with him to the ticket counter, then through the crowd until you reached the TSA checkpoint.

Neither of you seemed particularly eager to say goodbye. Without a word you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him. Steve hugged you back immediately.

"If you need a place in between deployments," you said quietly, "you can always come back."

For a second his grip tightened. Then he pulled back enough to look at you and smiled. "I'll hold you to that."

You smiled too and nudged him toward security. "Be safe. Let me know when you land."

Steve nodded. "Will do."

He gave you one last wave before disappearing into the checkpoint.

You stood there a moment longer after he disappeared into the crowd before turning toward the parking garage. The community center still needed you, and there was plenty of work waiting when you got back. Driving back, you found yourself already waiting for Steve's message.

The flight home was uneventful, and Steve retrieved his truck from long-term parking before sending you a quick text letting you know he landed safely. Instead of heading home, however, he found himself driving across town toward an old friend. One who was definitely not expecting him.

The sign for Nelson and Murdock looked exactly the same as the last time Steve had seen it. Taking a steadying breath, he headed inside.

The bell above the door chimed softly. "Hello, how can I help you?"

Steve smiled despite himself. "Hey Matt. It's been a while."

Recognition crossed Matt's face immediately. "Rogers?" He stood and offered his hand. "What brings you to my part of the world?"

Steve returned the handshake and sighed. "I need your help, Matt."

Something in his tone must have carried through because Matt's expression grew more serious.

"I need a divorce lawyer."

Matt's eyebrows rose slightly above his glasses before he motioned toward the chair across from his desk. "Not my usual case," he admitted. "But sit down."

The office felt strangely quiet once Steve settled into the chair. Matt pulled his laptop closer and began asking questions, moving through them with the same calm precision Steve remembered from years ago. Assets. Property. Finances. Length of marriage. Separation dates. The practical process of dismantling a life that had once felt permanent. Steve answered each one as honestly as he could.

Eventually Matt's fingers paused over the keyboard. "Has there been any infidelity?"

Steve stared at the desk for a moment before nodding. "Yes. Peggy had an affair."

Matt absorbed that without reaction and typed a few more notes. "Are you filing because of the affair?"

The answer came before Steve even had to think about it. "No."

That finally caused Matt to stop typing altogether. "Then why are you here?"

Steve looked down automatically at his left hand. The ring was gone now, leaving behind only the pale band of skin where it had sat for years. Funny how something so small could feel so strange to be without.

For a long moment he said nothing. "The affair didn't end my marriage," he finally admitted. Saying it aloud made it feel more real somehow. "It just made me admit it was already over."

Matt nodded once and returned to typing. "Irreconcilable differences then."

Steve let out a slow breath. "Yeah."

That was exactly what it was. Not one mistake. Not one betrayal. Not one terrible moment. Years of distance neither of them had known how to bridge.

The rest of the meeting passed quickly after that. A few more questions. A few more signatures. Then Matt printed the paperwork and slid it across the desk.

Steve stared at the stack for a second. It was not very thick. Strange how the end of a marriage could fit into so few pages.

"Here you go," Matt said. "Sign your portion and give the rest to Peggy."

Steve gathered the papers and stood. "Thanks, Matt."

"Good luck, Steve." The words followed him all the way to the door.

The bell chimed again as Steve left the office. For a moment he stood on the sidewalk staring at the papers in his hands. The stack of papers felt heavier than anything he had carried in a long time. This was it. No more thinking about it. No more circling around the problem. Now he had to go home and tell Peggy.

Leaning against the hood of his truck, Steve signed his portion of the paperwork before sliding it carefully into a folder. His nerves only got worse once the pen left the page.

Instead of heading home immediately, he found himself driving across town toward an old mechanic shop. When he pulled into the lot, he realized just how long it had been since he had come by. The place looked exactly the same. The same bays. The same stained concrete. The same smell of oil and metal hanging in the air.

Walking into the first bay, he spotted Bucky almost immediately. One of the mechanics nudged another and pointed in Steve's direction. Bucky turned, blinked once, and barked out a laugh. "As I live and breathe. Steve Rogers. You're alive."

Steve smiled despite himself. "Sorry it's been so long, Buck."

Bucky wiped his hands on a rag and shrugged. "What's a few months between friends?" The joke was light, but as he got closer his expression shifted. He had known Steve too long not to notice when something was wrong. "What brings you by today?"

Steve gestured toward the parking lot. "Got a minute?"

Bucky followed him outside without another question. Once they were alone, Steve leaned against the side of his truck and got straight to the point. "I just saw Matt." Bucky waited. "I'm divorcing Peggy."

The words hung in the air for a moment. Then Bucky nodded. "Yeah."

Steve frowned. "Yeah?"

Bucky shoved the rag into his back pocket. "I thought you already had."

A disbelieving laugh escaped Steve. "What the hell does that mean?"

Bucky sighed and looked out across the lot for a moment before answering. "It means I can't remember the last time you talked about Peggy like she was your wife."

That landed harder than Steve expected. For a second neither of them said anything. Then Bucky looked back at him. "I don't think anybody's shocked, Stevie."

Steve stared down at the pavement.

Bucky reached over and squeezed his shoulder once. "I think we're mostly sad."

When Steve looked up, Bucky continued. "We've all been watching the two of you drift apart for years. You just didn't seem to see it yourselves."

Steve pinched the bridge of his nose and let out a slow breath. "Yeah." The word came out tired. "Okay." For the first time since leaving Matt's office, something in his chest loosened. Not because it hurt less. Because someone else had finally said it. After a moment he straightened up.

"I'll probably be out of town for a while. Not just because of deployments."

A grin immediately spread across Bucky's face. "You mean Texas."

Steve pointed at him. "We're not doing this."

Bucky laughed outright. "Sure, sure."

Steve groaned. "Seriously."

Waving him off, Bucky took a step back toward the garage. "Go talk to Peggy." The humor faded just enough for the sincerity underneath to show. "I'll see you when I see you."

Steve nodded. "Thanks, Buck."

Getting back into his truck, Steve shook his head. Somehow that conversation had been both exactly what he needed and completely irritating. Which, now that he thought about it, was probably the most Bucky thing imaginable.

Pulling into the driveway, Steve sat in the truck for a moment staring at the house. He could not remember the last time it had truly felt like home. The porch looked the same. The siding was the same color. The flower beds Peggy maintained so carefully still lined the front walk. Nothing had changed and yet standing there he felt more like a visitor than someone returning home.

An unfamiliar car sat in the driveway. Steve knew exactly who it belonged to.

With a slow exhale he got out of the truck. The front door opened before he reached it and Jack stepped outside. For a moment neither man spoke. Jack simply nodded once. Steve did not nod back. They passed each other without a word.

By the time Steve stepped inside, Peggy was already waiting in the living room. "Now you come home." Her arms folded tightly across her chest. "It's been four days, Steve."

Steve sighed. "Yeah. I needed time to think." His gaze drifted briefly toward the driveway. "Didn't mean you needed to bring Jack here." The bitterness slipped through before he could stop it. "Or did you sleep with him in our bed too?"

Peggy visibly recoiled. The expression on her face immediately made Steve regret the comment, but not enough to take it back. He shoved his hands into his pockets. "Look, I didn't come here to fight."

The anger was still there. He suspected it would be for a while. But it was not why he had come. "What's done is done. I'm angry, but I know I hurt you too, Peg."

That seemed to catch her off guard. For a moment she just stared at him. "What did you come here for then, Steve?"

Steve took a deep breath and pulled the paperwork from his pocket. The papers suddenly felt heavier than they had in Matt's office. "I think we both left a long time ago, Peg." He handed them to her. "It's time we let the paperwork catch up."

The room fell silent except for the rustle of paper as Peggy flipped through the documents. When she finally looked up, surprise had replaced most of the anger. "You're giving me the house?"

Steve nodded. "Yeah." The answer had been easy. "It's always been more your home than mine. The joint account for the bills can be moved into your name. I already changed my pay allotments."

Peggy swallowed hard and looked back down at the paperwork. "So that's it?" The question sounded smaller than before. "We just get divorced."

Steve's smile was sad. "Be honest." When she looked back at him, he continued. "When was the last time before Jack that you didn't feel alone with me?"

The question landed exactly where he knew it would. Peggy opened her mouth. Then closed it again. Her eyes dropped to the floor. "I guess you're right." The words barely made it above a whisper. After a moment she looked back up. "Are you going to stay with her?"

Steve rolled his eyes. The question was inevitable. "I have a deployment." His tone was not angry. Just tired. "And after that, it's really none of your business anymore, Peg."

A hard line formed across Peggy's mouth. "That's fair."

For a moment neither of them spoke. There should have been more to say. Years together reduced to a handful of sentences and a stack of legal paperwork. Instead, there was only silence.

Finally, Steve nodded once. "I'll come get my things after I deal with this derailment."

Peggy nodded. Neither moved closer. Neither reached for the other. The distance between them felt older than the conversation itself.

With one last look around the house, Steve turned and headed for the door. Illinois was waiting. And for the first time he could admit leaving felt more right than staying.

Outside in his truck Steve texted you again.

Gave Peggy the papers. Headed to Illinois.

Your reply came back quick.

I'm sorry.

Be safe.

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