I'm posting this "chapter" at the same time as the last chapter because, well, it's not very long at all. I should be ashamed at how short the damn thing is... yet, I'm not, seeing as it's just about ending this story now and setting it up for a sequel that I've had planned since almost the start of this story.

Hope that some people reading this story will continue with me over to the next one, and enjoy it just as much. Will be up soon, called Sweet Whispers of Tomorrow, Which will be a longer story than this one.

" Every single night ends up the same, don't say much at all, but I bring up your name." All the Pretty Girls by Fun.

Sequel in case anyone is interested : FanFiction(.net)/s/9258516/1/Sweet-Whispers-of-Tom orrow

For Steve, the worst part of the future was the crushing loneliness that had come with it, and the fact that no one seemed to care. About Captain America, sure, but Steve Rogers, not even a thought. For the friend of the brilliant Howard Stark, not an ounce. Well, at least not the good kind of caring, but at least Tony had acknowledged that the two had been friends, had told him how he'd searched for him for years before he'd died. Thinking of Howard being dead still struck him, every time he thought about it.

It would have helped if Tony had been willing to speak to him civilly about the man, or if he didn't remind him so damn much of him.

Shield had convinced everyone, pretty quickly, that it would be a good idea to move into to Tony's tower, even when it was being re-constructed after the fight. The Tower, as big and empty as it was, was surprisingly warm. It gave him a sense of belonging, of being wanted.

His room was designed and furnished within the hour he arrived all in warm tones, comforting and so home-like that his eyes teared up when he first saw it, but he only saw Tony once during that first week, and he doubted that the man had even acknowledged that Steve was there... he was pretty damn drunk.

He wasn't happy about it, but it wasn't as if he were Stark's baby-sitter. So, he tried to apologize, at which Tony giggled, but for the most part ignored.

The next time he saw Tony, he was sober, luckily, with a half-healed gash circling around his wrist that Steve didn't remember being there before. Must have happened during the past week, and just been not that bad. The shocking part about it was that Tony was actually nice to him, never snapping at him, not poking cruel fun at him, just being there for him. For Steve Rogers.

He'd ask what his childhood was like, ask about his friend, Bucky, about little things that shouldn't have mattered. But they mattered, to Steve. Whenever Steve would bring up Howard, Tony would side-step the subject by distracting him with some gadget that Steve just had to know how to use, or a movie he just must see.

He particularly liked the Boondock Saints, even if it was distracting when Tony would laugh quietly to himself every time they said their prayer before killing someone, then quote along with the actors and Clint. After a while, he stopped taking about the man. Just about anything else, though, was fair game.

For talking to him, just talking, that alone could have made Steve love Tony. He finally started to heal, to move past fixating on yesterday, and hope for a tomorrow. A tomorrow that he knew that Tony would be there next to him, clever, comforting ear, gleaming smile and caramel eyes filled with lightning. It felt like being home again.

See, really short, but better ending, I think, than had I ended with the last chapter completely. I will start posting the new story soon, and post a link to here once I have it up, If anyone cares to look out for it. If not, thank you for reading. It's been a fun ride