damned
Hearing the nickname 'Cap' used to nauseate him and make his insides twist as if his body was rejecting the title. It had served as a twisted reminder that, to this world, Steve Rogers had died and Captain America took his place.
Some nights, that realization hit so hard he could have sworn he was dying. Even while suffocating with grief, he couldn't help but fantasize that someone would walk in on him. They would watch on, in shock and disgust, at the sight of Captain America choking on his own damn breath.
But no one had noticed.
No, not only that, no one cared to notice. No one cared that the flashes of cameras during press runs made his chest tighten- or that he couldn't go to a grocery store without breaking down.
They only cared about Captain America.
Steve fixated on the ceiling and prayed for tears to come, to show him that some part of him deep down knew this wrong. That he didn't deserve any of this.
His eyes remained dry, and that scared him in ways he couldn't understand.