On The Edge. | Steve Rogers.

twenty.

 Issac shut the door to his room, sighing heavily as he leaned against it. He waited a moment before pushing himself off, dropping his gear onto the mattress and sitting down to start unlacing his heavy duty winter boots. He wanted nothing more than to just get out of his tactical suit, shower, and sleep the rest of the day.  He was beyond both physically and mentally exhausted. The others were currently dealing with the scepter or checking up on Clint, who was recovering from his treatment. He'd be fine and he'd make a full recovery within a day or two, but he was still exhausted right now from the fighting, then the extent of the injury and its lingering effects on his body. Although Helen's technology and inventions could repair his physical body, they couldn't do much for his stamina or very human recovery speed. Natasha would stay with him for a bit and Tony and Bruce would be playing around with the scepter like the geeks they were. Thor would probably keep a close eye on them, having spent so much time trying to track down the scepter and get it back to safe hands that he wouldn't let it slip out of his grasp again. As he mentioned before, it was too dangerous to remain on Earth and thus, in three days he'd be returning to Asgard with it. Considering all that, Issac probably had a good few hours to himself to relax before anyone came to find him.

He was just pulling off his long sleeved shirt when there was a knock on his door. He had to fight the urge not to sigh dramatically and tell them to fuck off before tossing the garment onto the bed.

"Yeah?" He called out, fishing through his drawers for something to throw on quickly.

"It's me, can I come in?" He paused at the sound of Steve's voice. Of course, there was no way the man would just let him off without some sort of warning or lecture after the stunt he pulled during the mission.

"Yeah." He sighed before cursing under his breath. He managed to find a loose t-shirt, pulling it over his head just as the door opened.

Steve paused, looking at him curiously for a moment before taking a quick glance around the room. He noticed the gear and half stripped pieces of his suit scattered across the bed, grimacing slightly.

"Sorry, is this a bad time?" he asked.

Issac just shook his head, neatly placing his boots against the wall and putting the rest of his gear away.

"What's up?" he asked curiously, trying to brush off the obvious concern he could see on his face.

Steve gently shut the door behind him, not moving from his spot as he let out a soft sigh. Issac frowned, looking over at him with a raised eyebrow. He seemed conflicted, as if he was debating whether or not he wanted to talk about whatever was on his mind.

"Can we talk about what happened earlier?" He asked,  concerned, but not angry at least which was a good sign. Issac knew this was inevitable, but that wouldn't stop him from trying to get out of it.

"Do we have to?" Issac sighed, sitting down on the edge of his bed. He felt the space dip beside him as Steve sat down as well, folding his hands in front of him.

"I think we do." He mumbled, glancing at the male curiously.

Issac buried his face in his hands, groaning quietly. He knew he needed to talk about these things, but he'd suppressed it for so long he wasn't entirely sure if he knew how. He was still incredibly uncomfortable with putting himself out there too, but for some reason he felt a bit more comfortable with Steve. He trusted him, probably more than most, if not all of the Avengers. He let his hands fall away from his face, pouting ever so slightly. Steve wasn't going to leave without some explanation. They could either sit here all night, or Issac could cave, and talk.