Hola! Sorry, I gotta work on my summaries... This is my first official Avengers story! I'm in love with Steve, and I've always wanted to write a StevexOC story, and here it is! Feel free to leave any comments/ideas in reviews! Well, I really don't know what to write in these, so without further ado, Forever Hold Your Peace!

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the Avengers or the plot, because if I did, Captain America would have a steady girlfriend that wasn't Peggy. (:

"Hey Pepper, be honest, how do I look?"

Pepper turned to see her charismatic boyfriend standing in front of her, awaiting her approval. He was wearing a black suit, custom made by some ritzy designer somewhere. He had a matching black tie on, although it was tied very badly. She smiled and walked over to him.

"It would look better if you finally learned how to tie a tie." She quickly undid his messy knot, retying it perfectly.

Tony smirked. "And you thought that when I said tying my tie was one of your job descriptions, I was kidding." He quickly inspected the CEO, and asked in a slightly whiney voice, "And why don't you wear a little black dress more often? You look great."

She rolled her eyes. "Because, Tony, it's not often that I have to attend a funeral."

Tony's face took on a momentary look of contemplation, before finally replying, "I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad."

She swatted his arm and walked out of their room, Tony following closely behind. She walked into the elevator and pressed the button for the roof. Arriving there moments later, she stepped out, eyes immediately looking at the view. She would never cease to be amazed at the view of New York City from the top of the tower.

They both walked hand in hand to the helicopter waiting for them. Stepping inside, the familiar pilot turned and offered them a brisk smile. "You're two minutes late."

Tony chuckled softly, before replying, "Wow Natasha, good to see you again, too." Then he sat back and closed his eyes, mind zoning out beyond the conversation between Pepper and the red-haired agent. He really wanted to be going anywhere but where he was going right then. Sure, he liked Coulson, but that was the problem. He considered Coulson a dear friend, and Tony had never done well with death. Even if it happened several months ago.

Finally arriving at their destination, Tony exited to see none other than Capsicle waiting for them, dressed identical to Stark himself. Steve greeted them with a curt nod, before falling into step beside them. Tony could tell by his stiff posture and wandering eyes that Steve wanted to be there about as much as he did.

Breaking the ice, Tony announced to Steve, "Your floor in Stark Towers is finally ready. It's floor 74. And yes, that is the date of Independence Day. I thought it was clever. Anyway, you have a gym with all the bells and whistles of training. My personal floor is 86, so feel free to never go to that floor. The standard living room is floor 80, Banner's floor is 77, and Katniss and Red Riding Hood's floor is 79."

Steve nodded, understanding the Hunger Games reference do to Pepper's explanation of it last week.

After walking through various paths, they arrived at a small clearing in the forest surrounding them. They were in a small town named Caldwell, where Coulson lived when he wasn't on S.H.I.E.L.D missions. The grave sight was located a few minutes walk into the forest surrounding the cemetery. As soon as they entered the area, Steve took an immediate look around. There was a simple stone planted in the dirt, so one would need to enter the clearing to spot it. All that was written on the stone was "Phil". It seemed sad that that was all they could write, but what really grabbed Steve's attention was two of the people present at the small funeral. There were many agents there, ranging from Maria Hill, to Clint Barton, Dr. Banner, even Director Fury himself. Standing next to Nick though, were two women dressed in black. The one had a small black veil on, the kind that covered one eye, and the other looked ready to hyperventilate. It was obvious both had been crying. The crazy thing was Steve didn't recognize either of them as S.H.E.I.L.D agents. In fact, they both looked like normal people. So what were they doing there?

The funeral itself held an air of sorrow. Everybody looked mostly at the ground or at the pastor. No one caught another's eye, and no one looked at the grave. Steve dared to look around, and saw what was to be expected. Pepper was standing next to him, crying silently into a kerchief. All the men had their eyes downcast. Maria Hill was looking at the pastor, and hastily wiped away a wayward tear. Steve hoped Tony wouldn't make fun of her, sense it was such an obviously sensitive topic. The only sound they could hear was the pastor talking and the shallow sobs of the women with the veil. The other lady had wide bug-eyes and was looking pale, like she'd just seen a ghost. Taking in her features, the super soldier theorized she was about 22, give or take a few years. When she cast her eyes to his, they locked eyes. She looked absolutly terrified, but something in the back of her eyes softened for a second. Then, a look of realization passed over her face and she quickly looked away, letting a crystal tear roll down her cheek. It took a lot of willpower for Steve not to run over and wipe it away.

The ceremony following the funeral was held in a small soundproof building in the town. As small as the congregation was, they filed into the building with barely any notice. Everyone mulled around, and Steve took the opportunity to talk to Fury.

"Who are those women over there?" Steve asked, his head nodding ever so slightly in the direction of the two women that were wearing black and crying at the funeral. Fury looked over at the ladies in question, before replying quietly, "That is Agent Coulson's wife and daughter."

"I thought he had no family."

"Oh, he did. He kept them here in this small town, and visited every possible opportunity. It's an understatement to say they're very broken up."

Before Steve could reply, someone clearing their throat interrupted him. Clint stood at the microphone, looking over everyone in the crowd. "May everyone please take their seats? It is now time for the people that want to say something about the beloved Phil Coulson to do so." He stepped down from the stand, and everyone quickly scattered to a seat. Steve chose one next to Banner, with a couple female agents sitting to his left. After smiling politely to Bruce, he looked up to see Tony taking the stand.

"Hello everybody. We are gathered here today to mourn Coulson, but I think we should focus on the positive side of his life. He was a brave man, always standing up for people. He was like, what do they call it? D.A.S.A? Anyway, he was like that anti-bullying program, always sticking up against bullies. I, actually, thought his first name was Agent until a couple months ago." The statement earned a few chuckles, to which Tony ignored. "Anyway, Phil was a great man. Condolences to the family, may his soul rest in eternal peace."

Everyone clapped, snapping Steve out of his state of zoning out. Actually, it was more of zoning in, but not to Tony. He was staring at the diseased agent's daughter. Her skin held a golden glow, giving her a look of Hawaiian or Hungarian or something. She was obviously more like her mother in looks, as her mothers skin was exactly the same. Steve couldn't tell completely, but he thought her eyes were the same big brown ones Coulson had. Her hair was pin straight, obviously straightened, and very dark brown in color. She had her shoulders hunched, and she scowled slightly when Tony made his comment on how he thought Phil's first name was Agent. He was so wrapped up in staring at her, he almost didn't notice when Tony called him up to speak. The captain gulped nervously, never one for public speaking, and walked up to the mic. He cleared his throat, looking at all the expectant faces nervously.

"Phil was many things. An agent. A hero. A believer in super-heroes. A husband. A father. But he was never, ever a coward. Even if the odds were down and the jury out, he still fought and had hope. I will never forget him." Steve stepped back, walking to his seat while the clapping died down.

All of the Avengers ended up giving a speech, including Fury and Maria. Eventually, after everyone said everything they wanted too, they were all walking around again, talking about Coulson in small voices. While getting food from a buffet-style table, he overheard a conversation between the two female agents he had been sitting next too.

"Do you think it's true?" the first agent said, blue eyes staring expectantly at her blonde companion.

"I know it's true. I even tried to talk to her, give her my condolences and everything, but she just nodded and walked away. She's definitely mute." The blonde one said back, hands moving in the air for emphasis.

"I've heard of mute people, but never self-proclaimed ones. How weird."

"Yeah, there's obviously something wrong with her. What's her name again? Cassie? Kaleigh?"

"Kacey. And keep it down. Don't want to hurt a crazy mute chick's feelings."

Steve stopped mid spoonful, putting down his plate and walking away. He was practically fuming how high-school-girl-like those agents were. Walking around, Steve didn't realize where his feet were taking him until he was almost at the girl's table. She was sitting across from her mother, pushing her fork around her pasta. Clenching and unclenching his fist, his nervous habit, Steve approached the table. The women looked up, and after a moment of silence, he asked, "Is this seat taken?"

Coulson's wife smiled and shook her head, letting the captain sit down. After sitting down, he realized he didn't know what to say. Mentally cursing himself, Steve looked over at Kacey. She was looking at him, the same sad look on her face. He fumbled for words under the scrutiny of her eyes, which he noticed were darker than he first thought. They were almost black, sucking up his rational thoughts. Finding his voice, Steve managed to say, "You have really pretty eyes, Miss."

A red blush crept up her cheeks, almost unnoticeable because of her tan complexion. She smiled an embarrassed half-smile at him, but it quickly disappeared. She looked back down at her food, continuing to push it around.

"Oh, you must excuse my daughter. She meant to say thank you, right dear?"

Steve noticed a slight emphasis on the word 'say', but all Kacey did was offer her mom a dark glare and continue pushing her fork around. Several moments of silence later, he tried again.

"What do you do for a living, if you don't mind me asking?" Steve offered. She shot him a look that said 'Are you really going to keep trying?', followed by looking at her mom, waiting for her to explain.

After a quick sigh from her mother, she explained, "Kacey here is twenty-two. She goes to Stonybrook University near New York City. I'm sure you've heard of it?" Her voice tilted up at the end, making it sound like a question. Steve nodded, planning on asking someone later. "She's in there for culinary arts, but I'm afraid she'll flunk out soon. She won't speak to anybody, and although she'll write to communicate her feelings, she has a big presentation worth half her grade coming up. If she doesn't talk, she'll fail."

Absorbing the information, Steve was about to mention something about loving food, when he stopped short. Kacey's mouth was hung open, and she glared at her mom. Tears brimming at her eyes, she threw her napkin on the table, got up, and raced out of the building. Without knowing why, Steve followed her.

Kacey was just outside, collapsed on the grass to the left of the door. Steve, after a moment's hesitation, sat down next to her and started to pat her back. She visibly tensed, but was too absorbed in her sobs to shake the hand off. He took that as a sign to keep going, rubbing tiny circles on her back. They stayed like that for the better part of fifteen minutes, until Kacey sat up. She turned to look at her comforter, and smiled a weak smile at him. He offered her a tissue, which she declined with a shake of her head. When he insisted, she took it, only to see an address and some random numbers scrolled onto it. Looking at him quizzically, he almost stuttered out, "I-I thought that if you ever needed a shoulder or someone to write too, I'd be happy to help. I'll be spending all of my time in that building, so feel free to, y'know, swing by."

She looked at him, until she finally nodded. Standing up, she took out a piece of paper and a pen from her jacket. Writing quickly, she handed him the note.

Please tell my mom I left.

He looked up to say he would gladly help, but she was already halfway across the parking lot.

I hope you all enjoyed! Any suggestions, feel free to tell me!