Ready for some fairy tales?

Reading them was unpredictable, much like Natasha herself. And there was a beauty in that. There was a beauty in the way she didn’t just paint pretty pictures of how she felt or how things went down; she was raw and honest and funny and heartfelt. The letters were like a glimpse into her soul and while Steve knew without a shadow of a doubt that he loved her, he knew it even more as he read her stories and worries and fears and insecurities. And though knowing that nothing he could do could bring her back, they provided him the chance to have her with him always.

The night before the mission, Steve had been up writing a letter to her, trying and failing to find his words that could accurately and deeply convey everything he felt about her. God…he really didn’t want to say goodbye. He never planned on saying goodbye. So the words didn’t come easy. They were hard-fought and clunky, and didn’t really make much sense when he read them back to himself, but what else could he do? He hoped that maybe, somehow, by some stretch and bend in the cosmic world, she would be able to hear what he had to say because he was planning on leaving his heart there on that mountain in Vormir. This felt like the best way to finish their story. Because that’s what it was. She wasn’t coming back and there was nothing anyone or anything could do to change that.

But Natasha deserved to hear that she was just as loved and wanted – he was going to make sure of it.

He was thinking of taking a break after this, some time off to re-evaluate what he really wanted to do. While walking away from Captain America wasn’t something he thought he could ever do, a hiatus from it all felt like the right decision. There were people out there looking after different worlds and nations, people who they could count on if anything got too hairy down here, people who could be trusted, people who were friends. Earth was in safe hands.

It was time to get a life and getting a life meant figuring out who Steve Rogers was without the title and the role that came with being an Avenger.

It was strange; it felt as though returning the stones was the end of an era, the last chapter of this book that he had been writing for the past few years. Going on missions, fighting and saving, being part of a team, had become a part of him over time and it seemed funny to him that he was going on this, pretty huge, pretty vital, last mission by himself. But, in a way, that was what he wanted.

This mission allowed him to say goodbye to the two women who shaped him into the man he was now.

Getting a chance to say goodbye to Peggy in a way that he never thought possible was too great of an opportunity to miss. Not ever getting to have that date or that dance together was something that haunted him for years and even though she was alive when he came out of the ice, he never quite felt like he expressed just how much she meant to him, at least not in a way she could understand. And he really wanted to show her. Just one dance. That’s all he wanted. And then he could move on and put that life, and all that came with it, behind him.

But when they mapped out the various routes for the trip, he made sure that returning the soul stone was the final stop on his quest.

It was a beautiful day; sun shining high, not too hot, not too cold, a delicate breeze in the air. The perfect day for a last mission – at least for now, anyway.

The suit felt tighter.

Heavier, too.

Almost like the material knew it was the beginning of an end.

Steve took a long, hard look at himself in the mirror in his bedroom, taking note of all the scratches and tears and patches that now adorned the suit. They were battle scars; scars of victory and scars of loss. He smiled sadly at his reflection, catching all of the scars his face and body displayed too. He looked different; tired and dismayed. Older. A version of himself he’d never met before.  

From outside he heard Bucky call his name.

It was time.

Bucky and Sam had insisted on sending him off, even though to them he’d only be gone a few seconds, but Steve knew that if the roles were reversed, he’d do the same. Getting both of them back really helped in the aftermath of the battle; whilst talking about what he was going through didn’t come easy  - or at all most days, just having them around as a solid presence brought him a sense of peace. There was a solace in knowing that he wasn’t alone.

When he ventured out to the lake, Steve admired the view one more time. The trees that protected the lake like a fortress now swayed in the light breeze, almost as if they were waving farewell to him. Even though he knew and believed that he was coming back, he knew he wasn’t coming back the same – and it felt like nature knew that, too.

“You ready?”

With a nod, Steve joined Bruce and Sam by the workstation that had been set up.

Bruce, arm still in a sling and looking a little more worn than usual, presented the case with the infinity stones inside to him.

“Remember,” he started, “you have to return the stones to the exact moment you got ‘em or you’re gonna open up a bunch of nasty alternative realities.”

Steve nodded. “Don’t worry, Bruce,” he assured, taking the case. “I’ll clip all the branches.”

“You know, I tried - when I had the gauntlet, the stones...I really tried to bring her back.” The man paused, forlorn and defeated. Turning his head to look at Steve, he continued with a sigh, “I miss her, man.”

The blonde dipped his head at the admission. It was obvious that Bruce still cared about Nat and though he never really let his mind go there, Steve knew that a part of her still cared about him, too –not in the same way she had at the time of Ultron, but still enough to want to rebuild a friendship with him. And despite never discussing the relationship they had, Steve knew that Bruce was grieving just like he was.

He peered up at the other man. “Me, too,” he replied, the words heavy and definite.

An understanding smile passed between them.

The letter he had written to her burned in the pocket of his undershirt that lay against his heart.

“Let’s do this,” he proclaimed louder, more assured, Captain America in full flight.

Returning the stones (and Mjolnir) hadn’t been as difficult as Steve anticipated. Sure he could have done without having to inject the reality stone back into Thor’s old lover while she slept – that he’d be sure to lord over the man for many years to come, but the rest were thankfully fairly inconsequential. Sneak in, return, sneak out, don’t cause any ripple effects or alter anything in the process. There was a slight hiccup with the space stone in Morag which resulted in a ducking-and-diving-from-an-intergalactic-weapon kind of getaway, but Steve considering fleeing from gunfire to be pretty standard territory at this point.

The second last stop on his quest was to return the space stone back to the military base in 1970. And he finally, after all these years, got to have that dance with Peggy. Maybe it wasn’t in the location they’d pictured with the fanfare and anticipation and all that came with a first date, and maybe there wasn’t any music playing, but it was worth waiting for. A part of his heart that once seemed empty had now been filled and while it hurt more than he would ever admit to say goodbye one more time, he took comfort in the fact that she would live a great life and be happy. And he was glad that he was able to keep his promise to her, too. Feeling bound to his old life had taken up so much of his time in the present day and he more than knew that couldn’t keep living his life like that anymore. Time had passed, he had changed – the Steve Rogers from then didn’t exist anymore, and getting this chance, this final moment in time, gave him the push to really and truly move on.

Though all of his travels were always going to lead him to Vormir last, a part of him sometimes wished he had gone there first just so he could get it over with. As the time dragged on and each stone had been put back in its place, the dread of knowing what was to come gnawed at his emotions. It felt like the week leading up to a funeral where all the arrangements had been made and you were just waiting until the day when it became official. He didn’t want it to be official. There was this odd comfort in ignoring the obvious truth for a while but he knew the second he landed on that planet it would all become real again and there’d be no more escaping into daydreams or fantasies. No, he’d have to stare the loss right in the eye.

What he didn’t expect was how beautiful Vormir was. Not in the traditional sense, but in this other-worldy way that his mind would have never been able to conjure up on its own. It looked like what he thought a planet in outer space would look like – but then so much more. Vibrant clashes of colour with impressive shapes of land like sketches of a child where there was no rhyme or reason to what something could and should look like. It exceeded all human concept and imagination. And even as he gazed out at this barren landscape, he had a moment of awe at the direction his life had taken. It was breath-taking and beautiful, yet crushing and painful at the same time. He had achieved so much, had seen so much, experienced more than he ever thought, saved the world and individuals alike. But he’d also learned true pain, felt isolated and alone, discovered new levels of anger and confusion, lost battles and friends.

The mountain sat ominous and foreboding in his eye-line. It was sharp and jagged; a place that looked like death and danger personified, and it was surrounded by pools of water laid out in a nonsensical pattern. Wind whipped around him, flicking snowflakes into his eyes as he trudged his way up, jaw tight and set as he ground his teeth together to fight off the cold. His breathing was laboured as he made the ascent and he briefly wondered at how Natasha had felt about making the climb – he could imagine her and Clint complaining about the others having it easier than them and a sad chuckle sounded from him at the thought.

When he finally reached the top, he took in the surroundings. Nothing to be seen for miles.

Suddenly, a voice boomed from behind him, “Welcome…”

Steve zipped around to a see a floating entity dressed in black. His eyes narrowed.

“Steven, son of Sarah,” the voice continued, making his blood run cold.

He approached it slowly. “Who are you?”

“Consider me a guide to you and to all who seek the soul stone.”

The blonde raised his head. “I don’t seek the soul stone,” he announced calmly and then reached into his pocket to take out the glowing orange rock. He had discarded the case after seeing Peggy, making sure to tuck the final stone into a secure part of his suit for the last trip. “I seek to return it.”

“It has never been done before.”

“Well then I guess I’m the first,” he pressed.

The body then moved toward him and as it drew closer its features became more defined. Steve’s eyes widened as the face of the Red Skull became clear. “What are you doing here? How are you here?” he seethed.

“I am the keeper of the soul stone. I was banished here to this purgatory state to guide others to a treasure I cannot possess.” The Red Skull waded past him toward the edge that overlooked a canyon of darkness. “A great sacrifice was made for that stone that you hold.”

The rock suddenly felt weightier in his hand. “I know.”

A few moments passed and then, “What you seek lies in front of you, as does what you fear.”

Steve peered over into the abyss and swallowed hard, knowing that at the bottom was where she once lay. There was nothing there now. Just emptiness. “I don’t understand,” he said. “I already have the stone; what is this?”

“The soul holds a special place amongst the infinity stones and its ways are unknown. The soul demands a sacrifice – in order to take the stone you must lose that which you love. No one knows, not even I, the price for returning it.”

He was irritated now. “So you’re trying to tell me that I have to do something in order for this to be put back? I don’t see how that makes sense.”

The Red Skull’s timbre was haunting. “I’m merely offering you all the knowledge I have on this matter. What you long to do has never been attempted before. There are secrets of the stone that I do not yet know and cannot pass on.”

“Well thanks you’ve been a great help,” the man sniped sarcastically and then released a long sigh.

So no rules, no ideas, no maps to follow. Just gut instinct and a bit of luck. Steve didn’t believe in luck.

With a shake of the head, he walked to the edge and retrieved the letter from his pocket. No matter what, no matter what worked or didn’t work, he came here for this. He stood there on the cliff edge, the chill in the air not just from the temperature but from the unnerving atmosphere of grief. The price of sacrifice hung in the breeze that started to grow stronger the longer he stayed there.

Stars sprung and danced across the purple sky, blazing and burning in countless patterns. It was stunning, and not for the first time on this journey, Steve tensed his eyes so that the tears that were threatening didn’t dare to fall. No more tears. Knowing that this sky was the last thing that Natasha saw was like the universe offering him one last link he could share with her. A short, but real smile flickered across his face at the thought, his soul feeling somewhat soothed.

He unfolded the pages and began to read.

“Dear Nat,” he declared out into the void.

“I know it’s late, I know it’s not enough but wherever you are, I hope you know that I feel the same way as you do. Writing letters is something I gave up a lifetime ago but after I read yours, I knew I had to respond. Forgive me if it’s not as eloquent as yours. Usually the first thing you do in replying to a letter is thank the person for writing to you in the first place and so I wanted to say thank you. Thank you for leaving me something of yours that I can have forever, for baring your soul and letting me into your heart. That is a privilege I don’t take lightly.

I don’t know how space and time and all that works, but I’ve seen enough to know that nothing seems impossible anymore. We’ve seen things that just defy explanation. So I believe that as I read this to you, you will hear me.”

He cleared his throat. “Nat, I’m sorry.

For so many things.

I wish…I wish things were different. I know why you did what you did and if I was in the same position I probably would have done the same thing, because whatever it takes, right? That’s what we all agreed; we knew what we were doing. But, God, I wish there was another way. But the thing is,” he sighed, “even though it’s selfish of me to stand here and wish you hadn’t of done it, I know that you would make that choice every single time because you would do anything for your family, and all you ever wanted was to make everything right again – because you, Natasha Romanoff, are a hero. You’re my hero. Go ahead and laugh all you want at that –because I know you are; I can hear it,” he sniffed sadly. “But it’s the truth.

We won because of you.

We got everyone back,” he stopped then, mouth dry, “… but we lost Tony. He sacrificed himself so that Thanos could be defeated and I miss him every day. And he missed you, by the way. It’s funny, he’s usually so vocal about things but when we all found out that you didn’t make it, he was strangely quiet. I think it hit him harder than any of us knew. You were important to him. To all of us.

The trouble with trying to save the world is that we embody this kind of confidence – maybe even arrogance – that we’re gonna make it, that while there’s risk and danger, we’re gonna win and we’re gonna get through. And that’s good because if we weren’t confident in ourselves and in each other, then I don’t think we’d ever win. But it’s also bad because it blurs the lines of reality that one of us or all of us could be killed. We don’t let ourselves think of that. We drive forward with intent and do what we have to do. But, Nat…” he shook his head, rolling in his lips, “…I should have been clearer on how I felt about you – you said it yourself I’m always waiting, but this time it’s all on me. I should have made more of an effort during those 5 years; I should have reminded you more of who you are and what you’ve done. I should have been more open and more honest. You deserved to hear that you were loved by us all, especially me.”

Steve lifted his gaze so that his eyes were searching the skies. “I love you, Nat. And I’m sorry you’re finding out this way.

When I met you, I gotta admit I was a little intimidated. You were the most skilled fighter I had ever seen. You didn’t take anything from anyone, and you trusted your instincts. I always admired that. And when you opened up to me the day we realized that SHIELD was really HYDRA well, I saw a part of you that I could really connect with. I saw a glimpse of the real Natasha. You know, sometimes I think about that day. I think about how you had just found out that everything you’d been working for had been a lie and for most people, that would have stopped them dead in their tracks, but not you. No, you’re not most people. You became adamant and focused on fixing it. You showed me true loyalty when I hadn’t given you much reason to. You showed me that you were someone who wanted to be better and wanted to fight injustice.

You know, we’re not all that dissimilar when you really think about it.

And as the years went on I saw more of that person, and I grew to not only respect and admire her, I grew to care for her – more than ever I cared to admit to even myself. You risked your safety and security and position to help me when I went after Bucky – you trusted my instincts. You showed up at Peggy’s funeral even though we disagreed on what to do with the team because you didn’t want me to be alone. And, Nat, I was never alone when I was with you. Ever. You said that I made you feel seen, well you opened up my heart again.”

His voice cracked at the end of the sentence and he cursed, annoyed at how hard his heart was thumping and how his lungs burned and his head ached. He could feel the Red Skull’s stare on his back but he persisted on.

“You know - and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna be smirking after I say this - but sometimes I think about the time you kissed me on the escalator. Though I hate to admit it, I lied to you then; that was my first kiss since 1945. But now more than ever, I’m glad that it was with you…even if it was terrible and I was way, way, out of practice.

But I’ve also thought about the other times we got close to kissing yet never did because…well, because we couldn’t risk losing each other. It never felt like the right time, it never felt like the right thing to do, but once the moment had passed, all I felt was regret. Every time. I think we were just scared to enter into new territory. We knew what lives we lead and we knew that it would complicate things and that we needed each other on a much deeper level and underlying it all, there was always this fear that it would ruin what we had. You have no idea how much I wish I had taken the jump and told you sooner, though. I wish we could have navigated it together - and you’re right, I don’t know what it would have looked like but I know we would have made it work because,” he softened his voice then, bringing to just a breath above a whisper as if she right there in front of him, “you’re the most important person in my life too, Nat. I would have put my everything into making it work, because you’re worth all of the uncertainty and all of the risk and all of the confusion. And I’m going to say that again so that you really understand: you are worth it. All of it. I know you think that your past prevents you from having anything good in your life, but I want you to know that whatever experiences you had to go through to get here, they shaped who you are now. And she is someone who I think is incredible.

I miss you so much that it hurts, and I know that it’ll always hurt when I think of you. I’ll miss the late night conversations and the jokes and your eyebrow that can change everything with just one move and the assurance of knowing someone has my back. Most of all, I’ll miss the way your eyes light up when you get excited about something and the smirks that transform into real, genuine smiles once you’ve let your guard down and the way you understand me, like no one else does. You were my best friend, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to find another one like you.”

The last line of the letter became blurred through his tears and Steve tore his eyes away from the page for a few beats, unable to bring himself to read on. Once he read it, it was over. This was the end. A couple of drops landed on the sheet, blotching some of the ink. His hand shook as he raised the page closer to his face as if the proximity could force the sounds of him. He needed to do this.

Voice thick and quivering more than he would have wanted, he finally whispered, “I love you, Natasha Romanoff, with all of my heart. I hope that someday, somehow, someplace, I’ll see you again and get to tell you to your face.

All my love,

Steve

Before he could change his mind, he then released the piece of paper and looked on as the wind caught it and swirled it around open space. Hands clenched tight, he made sure to keep his stare on it as it plummeted to the bottom of the cliff. Tears burned in his eyes. The orange rock shone in his hand, its dazzle almost taunting him. Here goes nothing, he thought and without much effort, he let the stone drop from his grasp and inhaled sharply as the glow illuminated the steep descent. This was it. No more stones. No more chance of seeing her or getting her back.

It was over.

And then it all went dark.

The slop and slosh of water yanked him from the depths of darkness and he could feel wetness flowing around the frame of his body. Blinking heavily, Steve’s eyes opened to a new scene; the magnificent purple sky that had enraptured him earlier was now a silky lilac, all of the stars tucked back away for a later time. Was it now morning? A white moon, much like the one on earth floated off in the distance as if awakening too.

Realization that he was lying down dawned on him, and he pulled himself up into a seated position, turning his head from left to right as he scanned the new surroundings he found himself in. Over in the distance, what could have been miles away, was the mountain he once stood on.

“What the…?” he mouthed aloud to himself.

“I think you found a loophole.”

He jerked at the sound from behind, and hurried to his feet, arms out in front ready to attack if necessary, water splashing around with the movement.

But then he saw her.

And his whole body went slack.

Red hair tied in a braid with streaks of blonde running through it. Green eyes that bore deep into his own. Lips slightly curved into a smirk. Black suit he’d know anywhere, anytime, anyplace.

This couldn’t be real.

This wasn’t real.

“Nat?” he breathed.

She just nodded, eyes filling just a little. “Hey, Soldier.”

Though it was obvious the greeting was meant to be a little mischievous, it came out raspy instead, like she hadn’t used her voice in a while and was trying to get a hold of it again.

“Wha…” he paused, gulping and then, “…how?”

“I don’t know,” she rushed, licking her lips, breathing slightly ragged. “I…” she gazed fiercely at him, “I…could hear you…somehow and then…” she squeezed her eyes shut for a beat, “…and then there was this glow and it was so bright and I just…I just woke up here and I saw you and…” she pulled up then as if really seeing him for the first time, “…I saw you,” she repeated in awe.

The stone. He threw the stone down with the letter and both of them ended up here.

But how?

“You heard me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “I don’t know how but I did. All of it.”

As much as he had prayed to a God that he wasn’t sure even existed that somehow this would happen, he still couldn’t understand how she was here with him. Unless…

You must sacrifice that which you love.

Steve understood and was willing to say goodbye to someone he loved wholeheartedly.

Letting go of Natasha was the ultimate sacrifice. The ultimate exchange.

The price of returning the stone.

He had brought her back.

His eyes clapped on her then, his relief and joy unbridled. She met his gaze with similar intensity. Steve closed the gap between them in an instant and pulled her into a hug, needing to feel that she was real. With only some hesitation, Natasha encircled him with her own arms, one hand gripping his back, the other on his neck, fingers brushing the end of his hair.

“This is real?” she asked so quietly he almost didn’t hear her.

All he could do was nod.

“I can’t believe it,” she breathed, her words watery.

Breaking back only so much that their faces were mere inches apart, he tenderly brought up a hand to cup her face and gently danced his thumb across her cheekbone. “Nat, I love you. I’m so sorry I never said it.”

Her brow crinkled, green eyes incredulous but so hopeful, “You do?”

“Yeah, I do.”

The words ran off her tongue as if she was afraid they’d disappear if she didn’t get them out, “I love you, too.”

Her own admission seemed to take her by surprise and before she could say or do anything else, Steve leaned in and kissed her. The most perfect kiss he could have ever imagined. It wasn’t forced or rushed or planned or complicated or any of that other stuff that comes along with a moment like that; it just was. It was everything he wanted and so much more.

When they pulled away, one of her signature smirks appeared and boy, did he miss them. “Now that was worth waiting for,” she laughed breathily. “Have you had practice?” she quipped, cocking an eyebrow. He missed that, too.

He offered a smirk of his own in reply. “Just saved the best for the right person, that’s all.”

She bit her lip, dropping her stare. “I,uh… think I have to get used to this. This is really…” she waved her hand out in front of her loosely, “…really new to me.”

He nodded in understanding, wanting her to feel seen and heard, wanting to be her safe place again. “We’ve all the time in the world. I’m not going anywhere, Nat,” he assured, taking hold of one of her hands.

“Well, good,” she responded, now fixated on their hands, “because neither am I.”

“So…how about we go and get that life we were always talking about?”

Her smile was full. “I thought you’d never ask, Rogers.”

Part of him kept acting as if she was away on a mission or gone off the radar and she’d swoop in at any moment with an arched eyebrow, a sly smirk and some witty one-liner. Yet as the hours and days went by, the reality of it all was hitting him hard.

Losing Tony was worse than he could have ever imagined, especially when they had only recently mended their bridges, and him leaving behind Pepper and Morgan, sacrificing himself for the sake of everyone else, stirred up this burning in his chest that got more prominent as the time waged on.

But losing Nat?

Words didn’t exist for that kind of pain.

Nothing anyone could say or do - nothing he could say or do - could make it better.

Steve had experienced loss in so many ways – waking up seventy years later with everything and everyone you had ever known now reduced to another time had truly taken its toll on him and took many years to fully process and move on from – but this feeling, this grief that he was dealing with was overwhelming. It was like drowning; gasping for air, grappling for relief, yearning for a break – and it never coming. Instead, the pressure got worse, the pain more intense, the ache becoming almost a part of him now.

It consumed his every thought and action.

Natasha was the last thing he thought of when he did manage to fall asleep and she was the first thing he thought of when he woke. Throughout the day, the littlest things sparked memories of her and clips of their conversations whirled into his mind regularly. Sometimes he could relay them word for word and recall her exact facial expressions and tone of voice. He hoped he’d never forget that. Or anything else about her, like the way her eyes widened when he said something that took her by surprise; the slight parting of her lips when she didn’t know what to say; the eyebrow that somehow conveyed a million things at once; the smile that was only for him – soft and genuine, there but not quite there; the touch of her hand on his arm that was so anchoring and soothing at the same time; her lithe, graceful movement from years of ballet training; her impressive and frightening skill; her unmatched humour. He didn’t want to forget any of it.

He didn’t realize this kind of love existed. Sure, he had seen it among friends, had felt something akin to it with Peggy, but it wasn’t until now, when it was too late – again – that he knew that a deep love like this was real.

Why couldn’t he have recognized it sooner?

They knew their jobs were risky and putting your life on the line was practically in the job description, yet he thought that there would be this seemingly perfect time to tell her?

They were meant to get lives. And judging by their last conversation - if he could ever let himself actually believe it - lives with each other.

See you in a minute.

Oh how he wished he had said something back to her instead of offering that confident, half smile. He never knew a minute could last a lifetime.

So he stood there desperately watching as they disposed of the remnant of this chapter of his life, stuck in his what-ifs and daydreams, heart completely broken, and so unsure of what was next for him.

And then he heard a voice.

“Sorry, Captain?”

Steve batted away the tear that slipped down his cheek and turned to look at a young, plucky man that had made his way over to him at some point while he was away in his own mind.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you and I know it’s not much yet, but there’s a trailer over there that has a bunch of stuff that’s still in-tact if you want to have a look? Might be something of yours in there,” he said, pointing to his right at a trailer that was half-full of what looked to be just pieces of junk.

Steve nodded, hoping that the action appeared somewhat grateful. “Thank you. I’ll be sure to have to a look.”

The young man offered a timid smile and then moved to walk away but not before saying, “Thank you for bringing my parents back.”

A tiny smile forced itself to form on his face as he watched the man re-join the efforts.

They had won.

That was what Natasha wanted after all.

He just wished he could have told her.

With a deep breath and spying the trailer of junk, Steve ambled over to it, hands in pockets, a little sceptical that it would hold anything of real value. And to the naked eye, he was right. Somehow a bunch of picture-less  photo frames had managed to survive. A couple of science books. A load of what looked to be computer accessories or parts – he wasn’t sure, really. A stool. An armchair. Some, but not a lot, of training gear. Nothing that seemed to be important.

Nevertheless, he reached over and in, moving things out of the way to have a look at what was underneath.

That’s when he found it.

It was a deep red, beat-up, scratched, metal box. It was small, couldn’t hold much of anything – maybe some papers or pictures. But he had never seen it before.

Gripping his two hands on the edge of the trailer, he hoisted himself up and then used one hand to steady himself whilst the other one grabbed the box. He landed back on his feet with a soft thud. It was lighter than he thought it would be and he raised it to the side of his head and shook it. Didn’t make much noise. He turned it upside down and all the way around for any indications on what it was or who owned it. A tiny padlock on the front danced around as he searched and came up short.

His brow furrowed deeper at the mystery as he held it out in front of him as though it would all become clear if he just looked at it harder. But there was nothing to find from its exterior; it had to be opened.

Something inside him pulsed, something that felt a little like a seedling of hope, that maybe, just maybe, this was Nat’s. It was a long-shot, he knew; she had never mentioned owning anything like this - or owning anything really. Due to their lifestyle, owning things kind of became pointless because they were always on the move, not sure if they were ever returning to where they were. They didn’t really have material things.

But there was always a possibility.

Aside from him, not many other people came to visit – so it had to have been hers, right?

Maybe.

With a parting look to what was once his home, Steve tucked the box under his arm and headed back to Pepper’s house.

When Steve reached the house, he could see that it was teeming with activity. Wanda and Sam were in the kitchen visibly at odds over what to make for breakfast, Bucky and Bruce were playing a game with Morgan that involved a lot of arms and legs and big grand gestures, and Pepper was keeping herself busy, tidying and moving all of Tony’s toys and equipment out of the living spaces piece-by-piece. Steve had offered on more than one occasion to help her in moving everything around but she had insisted that it was something that she needed to do for herself and by herself. And he respected that; grief showed up differently in people and the process was never a one-track road to recovery.

Unwilling to share what he had found at the site just yet, Steve headed over to the lake and sat down at the picnic table overlooking the view. It was a cloudy day, a little on the humid side, but it was still a beautiful picture. There was something so calming about the lakefront in all of its stillness and isolation. It was almost other-worldly in its distinct little spot just mere miles from the city.

He rested the box down in front of him and folded his arms on the table like he was waiting for it turn into something else and reveal its true nature.

Eyeing a small rock at his feet, Steve bent down and picked it up, tossing it around his fingers for a few seconds. He had absolutely no idea what to expect when he opened the box, but he knew that he had to find out. He struck the padlock with the rock and released a breath when it clinked onto the table. Then, he slid the box toward him and flipped open the lid with his thumbs.

There were folded pieces of paper inside – different colours and sizes, some looked to be ripped off a bigger sheet, others more formal looking, some like they were pulled from notebooks. A pen rolled down over them when he tilted it upward to have a closer look in. No pictures or indicators of what this was or to whom it belonged. Just what appeared to be a bunch of paper.

Steve scooped them all out in one go and placed them down as he pushed the box aside. The sheet that lay on top was folded over but had jagged edges as though it had been hastily torn out from a book, but yet on the bottom right-hand corner of it, ‘For SR’ was written in small but careful letters. He knit his eyebrows together at the discovery and then proceeded to check the other pieces of paper – all of which had ‘For SR’ written somewhere on their front.

SR.

Steve Rogers.

The man inhaled deeply, heart starting to beat that much quicker. He noticed that his hands were shaking as he lifted up the top sheet again.

Looking from left to right, making sure that he was completely alone, he swallowed hard and gave himself a number of seconds to settle. Though he still had no idea what any of this was, he felt like the moment, this moment, was significant.

He unfolded the paper.

It was a letter dated the day before they went on the time heist.

To him, from Natasha.

Hey Soldier,

Even though I can’t see you, I just know you’re doing that puppy-like frown thing that you do when you’re trying to solve a puzzle. (Steve, definitely making that face, immediately relaxed his expression.) Told you. (Okay, that required a grin.) I know what you’re thinking: ‘How did she know?’ but you see, Rogers, I think you’ll find that I know you pretty well. Maybe too well. I sometimes think I know you better than I know myself.

That’s why I started doing this. Writing letters. I remember all those times were you would chirp on about modern day communication and about how the sense of personal had been - what was it you said again? - totally removed? You were pretty resolute on that. It made for some really easy digs at your age. I mean seriously Rogers, sometimes I think you did it on purpose. (He could easily picture her then; leaning back against the headboard of her bed, notebook in hand, smirking as she wrote. God, what he wouldn’t do to see that smirk again. With a shake of his head, he willed himself to read on. Needing to read on.) And while I mostly found it kind of amusing to watch you grumble about all the differences between your era and ours – my personal favourite being pretty much anything to do with aliens; even after everything you’ve seen, watching you mouth the word ‘aliens’ like it was some entirely foreign concept for you always made me laugh (Despite being alone, Steve ducked his head in embarrassment, allowing himself the chance to imagine her low and raspy snicker, allowing himself to get lost in the sound) - there were parts that I do think we as a generation should have kept. Like this, for instance.

I started doing this after everything that went down after the Accords. After I realized that I had so much to lose. I feel like I didn’t truly know that until then. And I gotta say, Cap, there is something to this whole writing-down-your-thoughts-and-sending-them-to-people thing.

Not that I’ve ever sent or given these letters to you. They’re mainly just an outlet. A place for me to write out what I’m too afraid to say. (The blonde nestled in further then, leaning his two forearms onto the table.)

I don’t know if you’ll ever read this. I hope you don’t because if you are reading this it means that I haven’t made it. (God those words…seeing them on paper made his heart thump with profound sadness. They were heavy on the sheet too, like she leaned that bit heavier with the pen, like it took all of her effort to get them down.) Most of the letters I’ve written just dive right into what was going on and what we were facing; they’re kind of like I’m just talking to you, sometimes getting deep and revealing but never so much that I feel like I’ve poured it all out. But I knew this one had to be different. Because this time, the time heist…it feels different.

I feel confident. I feel like we’re going to win. But I also feel like it won’t be easily won, that there’ll be compromises and challenges along the way and that we’ll face the hardest decisions we’ve ever had to make. Whatever it takes, right? I think some old man told me that once. (Even in letters she couldn’t resist a jibe at his age and truth be told, he found it kind of warming. The jokes were a natural part of their relationship, zipping in when he least expected them but still amusing him nonetheless. He let out a sigh though, knowing that he’d never hear one from her ever again.)

We will win, Steve. I can feel it.

But I also feel like I need to say what I have to say. Or, well, write it down, I guess. I can’t put my finger on it but this time I feel like I need to release it. Maybe it’s just for me, I don’t know. God, I wish I was brave enough to say it to you and watch your face go through hundreds of different expressions in the space of a few seconds and watch as your body tenses in that cute, shy way that’s so funny to me because you’re Captain America and you’re not intimidated by any threat but when it comes to women you instantly retreat back to that kid from Brooklyn. And I find it endearing. There, I said it. So don’t go beating yourself up over it; embrace it. It’s just another reason as to why you’re the greatest guy, Steve.  

(It felt as though she paused there, the words holding so much weight even in their written state. He imagined she was working her bottom lip between her teeth as she deliberated what to say next, the slightest of furrows in her brow.)

Still with me? (“Yeah,” Steve answered aloud, swallowing hard.) I can practically hear you say yes. I bet you did, didn’t you? (A huff of laughter escaped through his nose. She really did know him. For a second, he placed the sheet down and drew in a number of long, deep breaths. He wasn’t sure what she was going to say, but he had a feeling that it was going to change everything for him.)

I really hope I get the chance to say this to you in person. Maybe I’ll do it after the heist. I mean, what am I waiting for anymore? I think I’ve waited long enough. I think you have too. You’re always waiting for something, aren’t you? I’m sorry I’m so bad at all this and I’ve kept you waiting literal years.

I feel like as time went on there was a shift in our relationship. And I think I knew it even before everything with Ultron but I never let myself think about it for too long. It scared me. I guess I didn’t understand what I was feeling because I had never felt this kind of feeling before. It was strange and new and frightening and so I pushed it to the side, kept on marching on beside you, keeping you at arm’s length even though we both know that it became harder to define the boundaries between us as the years went by. But by doing this I was able to sort through these feelings and figure out what was going on with me. Being vulnerable doesn’t come easy to me – shocker, I know. Turns out there is something I’m not good at. Just don’t tell anybody else.

So…okay, here it goes. The truth is: you’re the most important person in my life. The thought of you not being by my side through all of this…I can’t even imagine – I don’t want to ever imagine.

(Against his will, a small tear escaped his eye and snaked down his cheek. God, he didn’t ever want to do this without her either; when he truly thought about it, she was the only thing keeping him going. And now? Now she was gone. And it was so much worse than he could have ever imagined.)

I love you, Steve.

And I honestly don’t know what that looks like for us or what that could even be with the lives we lead, but I do. I really do. I think I have for a long time.

I was always taught that love was for children and I think for the most part of my life I believed that enough to be able to do what I do. But after The Avengers, I started to see the value in having friends and people who you could call family – and slowly I started to let the beginnings of love in. But with you…I can’t explain it but I know that I have never felt this way before. I feel like I subconsciously gravitate toward you when you’re nearby because I just want be around you; I care about your opinion; I want to pick you up when you feel low; I love talking to you and learning all of your mannerisms and listening to your stories form your childhood. I love the way you fight for everyone. I love the way you selflessly and tirelessly give of yourself to try to make the world the best version of itself. You make me want to be a better person. You showed me that I am a better person than I give myself credit for. No one has ever done that for me. No one has ever made me feel worthy. And in those five years after the snap, after we lost so much and I felt like I was drowning, you would just show up, like you just knew that I needed someone, a safe place to land. I like to think I became that source of safety for you then, too.

(Steve fought back the urge to fold the letter up and lock it away back in that box so that he didn’t have to see those words or hear her voice saying them with that soft tone she only ever really used for him. He could go about his life pretending that this declaration didn’t exist. Move on and get a new life, one that would make her proud. Because this? Somehow knowing that she cared for him in the same way he did for her made everything so much worse. He could never tell her that he loved her, could never validate her feelings. They could never have what they each wanted. “Damn it, Nat,” he cursed, smacking the table with his fist just to relieve some of the frustration that had crept up inside of him. Barring his teeth and setting his jaw to keep his emotion in check, he forced himself to keep going because he at least owed her that.)

Thank you for staying with me through all those times when I couldn’t bring myself to be anything to anyone. For the late night conversations; the brief moments of laughter. For being the constant in this strange world we find ourselves in. I don’t think I could ever truly convey how thankful I am that you never left me. Even when I wanted to leave me.

And thank you for taking the time to really see me. To look past all the stuff I put in the way and learn about the real me. You never shy away from my past, always willing to listen when something gets too much for me, but you also never pry or push, and you have never once judged me for who I was. I think that means more to me than you’ll ever know.

I don’t know if you feel the same way but deep down I think you do. The way you look at me sometimes…it’s like – I don’t know, it makes me feel seen. Or…whole, maybe? Like I’m enough. And you know me, I don’t think I’ve ever felt like I am enough for anything. I never felt like I belonged to this world, to this time, and I think on some level I understood you and what you felt when you woke up after the ice. Obviously not in the ‘waking up 70 years into the future’ kind of way but…I was always chasing absolution for my past, trying to be better and do better and make a difference; you were always chasing purpose in your future, trying to be better and do better and make a difference. And somehow in the middle of all that we forged a relationship that remained through all of the ups and downs and time-travel and aliens and egotistical demi-gods and talking space raccoons.  

You’re never going to see this anyway so I’m gonna write it down one more time just for myself and just because it actually feels good to see it on paper:

I love you, Steve.

If you’re finding out this way I’m so sorry. I hope that I get to say it to you someday. I hope you feel the same.

And if you have that crooked smile on your face – you know the one – you can scrub it off your face now. I mean it, Rogers; don’t let it get into your head!

Now let’s go win this time heist and get everyone back so we can get lives.

Nat

Each word, each declaration was like a punch to the stomach and Steve raised his head to look out at the quiet scene ahead of him, a scene he thought of as soothing a few minutes previous now appearing desolate and lonely. The ache, the tightness, the tension in his chest expanded and then constricted, expanded and constricted, expanded and constricted like it didn’t know what it wanted to do and all he could feel was pain and loss. Tears came more abundantly now, more urgent and hot. So much so that he couldn’t even see the page anymore. He buried his face into the crook of his shoulder, squeezing his eyes so tight that when he did try to open them, he could see nothing but bright spots of colour.

Natasha had loved him.

And now she was gone.

And she didn’t know that he loved her back.

She laughed then, husky and soft.  “I know you were encased in ice and woke up 70 years later in essentially a whole new world so you’re not really new to weird things happening to you, but did you ever picture yourself being able to travel through time?”

He bucked an eyebrow. “You seem to forget that I was a human experiment and injected with super serum in order to become an enhanced soldier. After everything we’ve seen over the years, time-travel seems par for course, really.”

“Time heists,” she corrected, laughing again.

Steve loved the sound of her laughs. She had a few of them; there was the one she used when she was flirting and trying to get information out of someone on a mission – that one was higher, looser; there was the one she had when she was with everyone and they were just having a good time – that one was more guttural, like it came from a deeper part of her; and then there was one that was only for him – that one was soft, intentional, melodic, real. He wasn’t sure when he started logging and categorising them but he found out early on that there was a true joy in learning the many facets of Natasha Romanoff.

“So what’s going on, Cap?” she implored again, eyes more alive. She rested her chin on her clasped hands as she leant her elbows on her legs.

After the debriefing when they finally put a plan in place and everyone’s roles had been assigned, they ordered in food and spent time just hanging out and trading old stories. There was this anxious yet giddy crackle in the air that was undeniable. Everyone was assured, but there was still this undercurrent of apprehension that no amount of joking or rationalizing could diminish. At some point in all of it, Natasha had slipped out of the room. It was only when the stressed delirium had started to fade and everyone began excusing themselves to spend some time alone – or falling asleep in Thor’s case – that Steve noticed she was gone, and that she hadn’t been overly chatty over dinner, either.

That’s when he found her.

“Penny for your thoughts? You seemed kind of quiet earlier.”

Natasha offered a small shrug, green eyes open and honest. Raw. As time went on, there became fewer walls between the two of them; they had been through a lot and seen a lot over the years and with that came an unspoken understanding and respect. There was no point in lying to each other anymore. “This is…this is a lot, you know? I just never thought anything like this would or could happen.”

“Yeah, me neither.” He moved over to her and took up the other side of the couch in a gesture of friendship, with a posture of being ready to listen to whatever it was that she wanted to say.

She turned her body more in his direction, letting her arms fall onto her thighs. “The last five years have probably been the toughest of my life. I mean, I’ve been through a lot but when I finally found a purpose and a place where I belonged, I then realized what it meant to lose something. To really lose something. And I tried - you know I tried - to do whatever I could, to be the best version of myself, to keep pushing on but it just felt so helpless. Our job as Avengers is to fix the problems and save the world – and we couldn’t do it.” The beginning of tears swept over her eyes but she kept them in place with a purse of her lips. “But now we can help. Clint can get his family back, you can get Sam and Bucky back, Wanda, and Peter…everyone can come back. We’re going to restore families and friends. We’re going to make a difference, Steve. Whatever it takes, we’re going do it.”

The words washed over him for a beat. “You know for a second there you reminded me of me.”

A loose snicker escaped her then. “You must be rubbing off of me. Can’t spend a lot of time with Captain America and not learn a trick or two about making impassioned speeches.”

“I guess not,” he agreed with a chuckle. “We have been through a lot, you and me.”

“More than most. Aside from Clint I don’t think I’ve ever had someone stick by me through so much.”

It was an off-hand comment, not made with much intent but he couldn’t let it go unchecked. There was strange urgency in the air over the past couple of days and it seemed as though there was some kind of emotional shift happening between them all. Maybe it was this sense of reconnection, of renewed purpose, of righting wrongs but whatever it was, it brought with it a compulsion to leave their barriers down.

“And I’d do it all again, Nat,” he declared earnestly, causing her to meet his gaze. “When I woke up from the ice, I didn’t think I would ever feel like I belonged or that I would make friendships or relationships that would mean anything to me. Truth be told, I don’t think I wanted to. But you proved me wrong.” A timid smile flashed across his face. “You saw something in me – I don’t know what it was, but you showed me trust and loyalty when not many others did. And every time I look around in a fight, there you are. Every time I’m in a bind, you swoop in from somewhere and help me out. You always have my back. I don’t think there’s anyone in my life I trust more than you.”

Honesty was important to Steve; it was the backbone of his entire sense of self. But even he surprised himself at how easily and quickly those truths came from him. He had observed as hours and days and months and years of striving to do better, to be better had resulted in this new warped view Natasha had of herself where her only purpose and value was centred on this role she had as an Avenger, as someone who had to save the world, and while that was integral to who she was, Steve felt as though she had lost sight of how far she had come and how much saving she had done, and was doing, by just being her. She had saved him so many times and in so many different ways. She was already better, already more than enough, already someone of great significance.  And she deserved to hear it.

Something came alive in her eyes, a dancing of flames around her pupils and her mouth opened just that little bit like she was about to say something and then suddenly stopped. It was like she was searching his words, examining their meaning as though they were physically floating in front of her and she was trying to figure them out. He just waited, praying that the sincerity would shine through.

Suddenly, she reached out and took one of his hands in hers. He tried to ignore the electricity that fizzed up his arm. Voice low yet strong, the words tumbled past her lips like they had to get out of her.

“When everyone started disappearing after the snap and it was just chaos, the only thought in my mind was, ‘Please let Steve still be here’. How horrible is that? Everyone just stood there watching as friends and loved ones literally turned into dust in front of their eyes and I’m there selfishly begging the universe to give me some kind hope to cling to - as if I had any more right than them.” Her eyes squeezed shut for a moment, face crunching in that way it did when she was admitting something that she was ashamed of. ‘Please let Steve still be here’ resounded throughout his mind, though. It was like it woke something inside of him, something he had tried to quash down a long time ago. Though it didn’t feel like the right time to say it, he had thought something similar that day. He just never had the courage to tell her. Natasha continued on though, completely oblivious to his internal struggle and held his hand tighter. “And then when I saw you? I don’t think I’ve ever felt relief like that before. I couldn’t imagine doing this – any of this - without you. You’re always by my side, no matter what. And I know I haven’t made the last five years easy and I know I wasn’t the Natasha everyone knew, but I was so happy that you were still here. I felt like, despite it all, everything would be okay. You were like my tether to this world, keeping me in check, keeping me sane.” Green eyes pierced his blues. “I want everybody back more than anything but, Steve, just know that if it was just you and there was a chance to bring you back, I would do it.”

That floored him.

It floored him mainly because if it was just her he knew he’d do it, too.

No hesitation.

“I would do it for you, too, Nat,” he practically whispered.

Surprise split through her usually cool and collected demeanour. The glimmer of hope that took over her face gave him pause and he noted the way his heart thrummed with more determination at the way her head slightly cocked to the side as she appraised him as if seeing him for the first time.

And then it was just them; two souls on the same wavelength not really saying anything but saying everything. Their hands idly caressed each other, unbidden and loose, tracing and tracking the patterns of skin and bone.

Steve couldn’t remember a time when had ever felt something so strong. Words couldn’t define it; it was this emotion that swept over and all around him, consuming him to the point where it was all he could feel.

He wanted to kiss her.

He wanted to tell her how he felt.

He wanted to tell her he loved her.

But the words wouldn’t come.

Natasha was the first to break the silence that had overtaken them. “So tomorrow…” she started, her tone still low but lighter than before.  

“Tomorrow,” he mimicked, clicking back into place and remembering what lay ahead of them. It was risky; unchartered territory. Steve trusted Tony and he trusted the science but it was like nothing they had ever attempted before. It was truly so much bigger than any of them could fathom.

“I’m going into space.”

Her delivery pulled a soft laugh from him. “Yeah, you are.”

“And you’re going back to our first Avengers mission.”

“That’s gonna be…weird. And freaky. I gotta make sure I don’t run into myself. Who knows what kind of ripples that could cause.”

Her expression turned mischievous then. “Two Captain Americas in one place,” she mused. “Doesn’t sound half bad to me.”

“Easy, Romanoff,” he jested easily.

“Just be careful, that’s all,” Natasha said, the intent a joke but the result came off a little more serious. Her shoulders dropped then. “I know we know what we have to do, but it somehow feels like it’s not going to be that easy. I can’t shake that feeling.”

Steve nodded in agreement. He’d been thinking that pretty much the whole time but he could never pass up the chance to get his friends back and restore the world to its proper order so he shoved the worries and the doubts to the back of his mind and became laser focused on the task at hand. It was only really now, as the woman before him confessed her reservations, that he felt that feeling, too. “Yeah, I’ve been feeling that as well. You be careful, too.”

She lifted her chin. “How about we both promise to be careful?”

“Deal,” he smiled and pumped her hand twice in assurance. He could get used to holding her hand; it seemed to fit so snugly in his, as though it belonged there.

“Good. I’m going to hold you to that, Rogers.” Her smile was wider now and it reached her eyes, brightening up her whole face. “What do we do when we get back after all this? Everything’s just going to be different. And weird – in a good way, but still weird.”

He pondered that for a minute. And then, “I think it’s time we get a life, don’t you think?”

A dramatic, melodic sigh flowed from her. “I don’t even know what that looks like.”

“Neither do I but we’ll figure it out. We always do.”

Natasha bowed her head bashfully as she bit her bottom lip. “Yeah, we do.”

His heart swelled.

After five years of living in this uncertain and confused state, Steve finally felt like things were turning a corner. He now pictured himself with a different life and a newfound sense of reason and identity. Captain America but better.

Hope was a very powerful thing.

But as much as he could have stayed there forever – and right there in that moment he genuinely felt like he could, he still had prep to do and a few notes to go over and he really wanted to spend some time gathering his thoughts and maybe drawing a little to ease the tension he could feel starting to build up in his muscles.

The sun had set now and the room was beginning to darken, dark shadows starting to make appearances.

“I think everyone’s doing their own thing tonight so that movie night that Thor was pushing for is gonna be no-go,” Steve eventually murmured.

“Yeah I think that’s for the best. The last thing we all need before tomorrow is a war over what movie to watch,” she quipped. “ Save that for when we get back.”

He peered down at their hands once more. “I’m gonna go and do a few last minute things for tomorrow. Turn in early.”

A flicker of sadness crossed her face but as soon as it was there it was gone. “Well, you are an old man; must be hard to stay up late at your age.”

“Ha-ha,” he said dryly.

She bumped her shoulder against his playfully. “I got a few things I have to do, too. I don’t know if I mentioned it but I’m going into space tomorrow.”

He played along. “Space? Really?”

“Really. I’m not just your average spy, you know.”

“I’ve never thought that for a second. There’s nothing average about you.”

She tenderly rubbed her thumb along his in response. “I suppose you’re above average, too,” she said with a wry smile.

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest as he rose to his feet, breaking their contact. In an instant he felt cold, like he had lost a part of him. “See you tomorrow, Nat.”

She gazed up at him with fresh eyes. “See you tomorrow, Steve.”

When all of this was over, when they had won and brought everyone back, he was going to tell her how he felt. No holding back, no chickening out at the last minute, no more waiting around. He was tired of waiting and he was tired of pushing away his desires and wants.

He loved Natasha Romanoff and he was going to tell her.

And he was going to kiss her.

“Guys, can anyone hear me? Nat’s been hit. Guys!” he shouted into the comms. “We need to be extracted, she needs medical attention. Can anyone hear me?” He waited a few seconds, his breath heavy and laboured. She still wasn’t moving. “Tony? Anybody? We’re about 3 miles north from the base….” Steve examined the area, looking for a place to take cover. “I need to move her. We need to get out of plain sight. Does anybody copy?”

Frustrated with the silence on the other end and ignoring the foreboding sensation in the pit of his stomach at what silence at the other end could mean, Steve steadied himself and positioned Natasha in such a way that he was cradling her, and rose to his feet. She looked so small and helpless in his arms. If you didn’t know her, it’d be hard to wrap your head around the fact that she could kill you in probably thousands of different ways in the space of a couple of seconds. He adjusted her again so that her head rested against his heart. “I’ll get you out of here, Nat,” he said quietly, giving one last look around for any signs of danger, and then started walking.

There was an old, run-down, abandoned-looking motel not too far out of his eye-line and he carried her the whole way there, feeling uneasy at how calm his surroundings were. There wasn’t a sound to be heard for what felt like miles. No traffic, no rustling, no chatter. Not even birds were singing.

“Guys,” he announced again into the comms, willing for someone – anyone –to hear him, “I’m taking her to a motel approximately fifteen minutes by foot from our last location. It’s called Motel Sol. Please…” he paused, tired, “if anyone hears this, please come get us. I’m not sure how bad her wound is. Her pulse is steady but she’s unresponsive. We need to regroup.” He sighed again, feeling like he was totally alone.

It wasn’t the first time he’d seen her shot, but this time it felt different. They had only really started to get to know each other back then, only starting to trust one another. Now? Well, now it was different. They were close. She was probably the closest friend he had – not that he’d ever admit that to her. Not that she’d even believe him either; Natasha didn’t really believe that she deserved friends - or anything good in her life. That part he always struggled with. After all this time, after all the work she put into saving people and righting wrongs and maintaining fairness and order, she still didn’t see herself as anyone worthy of, well, anything. It was like she had a salvation checklist a thousand miles long that she ensured she’d never truly complete. That was the thing about Nat though: she was her own worst enemy. Steve just wished she could see herself the way the others saw her. The way he saw her.

His bond with her had shifted over time. They had each become something for the other over the years; a balance, a new perspective, a confidante. But sometimes, Steve allowed himself to pretend what it’d be like if he ever told her how he really felt. How his feelings for her had moulded and shaped into these new feelings he didn’t know he could still feel after all this…time, after everything he had lost when he went into the ice. And he didn’t even realize it was happening most the time. It would strike him suddenly; in an uptick of her lips, a softening in her stare, a joke, a warm, genuine laugh, a playful elbow to the ribs, a surprising gesture, a real conversation. By the time he figured out what was going on, he was too far gone. Way too far gone.

Now he couldn’t – and never wanted to – imagine a life without her.

Now he had something to lose.

Steve climbed the steps of the motel, taking note of the eight rooms that lined the corridor. He chanced a brief glance over the balcony at the scene of their battle; most of the attackers were still knocked out and on the ground, their weapons splayed sporadically around them. An exasperated sigh escaped him. Those men should have been arrested and dealt with. Where was his team?

The sun was setting now and it hung lazily just above the horizon, teasing its descent, splashing burnt oranges and husky shades of pink and lavender across the sky in this beautiful, poignant display. If it was any other time, in any other life, it may have been one of the most stunning things Steve had ever seen.

Yet when he looked down at Natasha’s unresponsive state, his heart tugged at the clash and helpless, crushing fear broke over him in thick waves.

Steve turned towards the rooms again and opted for room 6, kicking it open. The door flung wide, colliding with a table that seemed to be situated against the wall and bounced back on him as he walked through. He angrily kicked it out of his way again with much more vigour, forcing it to close itself this time. He felt the tiniest bit of release in the action. The room looked like it hadn’t been touched in decades but he didn’t have time to take much stock of it once his eyes fell on the bed. It was situated against the far wall, adorned with olive green floral sheets that looked like something his mom would have had on her bed back in the ‘30s.

Rushing over to the bed, he then delicately laid Natasha’s body down, extra cautious with his arms as he slipped them out from under her. “Come on, Nat, open your eyes,” he whispered as he pulled down the zipper of her suit. “I’d love to know what you’d say if you caught me doing this,” he quipped half-heartedly as he worked it down enough so that he could pull it over her shoulder once he angled her a little higher.

A sharp hiss of breath shot out of him as he appraised her wound.  The bullet went clean through – thank God - but she was still bleeding so much. Flicking his gaze around the room as if the inanimate objects would somehow give him a sign of what to do next, Steve rubbed his eyes, wiling himself to focus. “Come on, Steve, you know what to do.”

And suddenly, as though his brain had finally clicked into gear, he spotted a tear in the corner of the bedsheet. Without any more hesitation, he took hold of it in his hands and easily ripped off a long piece that could pose as a bandage. Crouching back over her, he shifted her oh-so-gently onto her side so that he could wrap the cloth around and around and around until he was satisfied that it was tight enough and the blood had nowhere else to go, and tied a sturdy knot with the loose ends. It wasn’t the prettiest attempt at staunching a wound but Steve would sure as hell take it right now.

“You know, bullet wounds and blood are kind of more of your thing. I might need you to teach me a few things when we get back,” he murmured to her, wanting to keep their line of communication open, as he rested her onto her back again. A loose lock of her hair slewed across her face with the movement and before he could form the urge to stop himself, he leaned over and tentatively brushed it back behind her ear, letting his thumb lightly sweep over cheek just once. Her forehead softly pinched under the touch and he wondered if she was about to wake up but as he waited for those piercing green eyes to open and possibly scold him for the contact, it smoothed out again. A tired, longing sigh forced its way out of him.

When he pulled back to stand upright, he couldn’t help but notice how small she looked under the shadow of his towering frame. If he was being honest, and he never felt embarrassed to admit it, but most of the time it was her who was protecting him; it almost felt weird for him to be doing the protecting now. Natasha was just always there. Any time he seemed outnumbered, on the back-foot or at a loss as to what his next move would be, he’d turn around and she’d already be there making her presence known. Or he’d hear the rasp of her voice or a beguiling jest from somewhere in the distance alerting him that help was on the way. She was just always there for him. And now it was his time to return the favour and he was going to make damn well sure that she was taken care of until he could figure out what to do next.

Dank, musty air worked its way in and out of his lungs for a few moments while he tried to keep himself focused. Steve knew that their targets were still at large, probably regrouping, and probably nearby. He needed to make sure they kept a low profile so he went over to the window and drew the blinds, and then went to every light in the room and made sure it was switched it off aside from the dull lamp on the locker beside the bed that just barely illuminated the space Natasha took up. He didn’t want her to wake up to total darkness.

She was going to be okay. He knew that. He just…he needed someone to contact them. They needed to get out of here.  

And the room was so warm. Too warm. That kind of warm that you think you’re comfortable in but then when you spend a decent amount of time in it, you realise that’s it’s actually suffocating. It’s sticky, and wet, and heavy. Boy did he wish he was not wearing his suit right then. While it was built to be breathable, it wasn’t all that much use in dense heat. It was only then that he realized that he was still wearing his helmet. “Rogers, you are really not with it,” he told himself with a shake of the head, allowing himself a self-deprecating laugh.

He removed the helmet and placed it on the table and then ran his hands though his hair, feeling more than a little alarmed at how rattled he was with this whole thing. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but he just hadn’t been himself all day. Even during the fight he couldn’t gain any sense of rhythm; always felt to be one step behind and slow off the mark. And it angered him. Every movement felt laboured, even the combinations of punches and kicks he had administered countless times seemed to skid across rather than land with the force intended.

He really should have spotted the shooter sooner.

“Let me guess…” came a voice from behind him, “…you’re beating yourself up over what happened.”

Steve whipped around to see Natasha squinting at him from where she lay.

She was awake.

“Wha-”

“It’s a waste of time, Rogers,” she said with a grimace.

He was over to her side in an instant, positioning himself on the edge of the bed. “Are you okay?”

She swallowed hard, blinking heavy. “Well I’m pretty sure I’ve just been shot but yeah, apart from that, I’m doing just swell.”

A breathy chuckle escaped him at that. Trust Natasha Romanoff to make a joke at a time like this. “Are you hurting? Can I do anything to make you more comfortable?”

She glanced down at his make-shift bandage that was covered in her blood at this point. But it looked like the bleeding had slowed dramatically. “Nice job,” she commented wryly, the slightest of smirks creeping onto her face.

“Hey, I never claimed to be good at this kind of stuff,” he defended quickly. “I did what I had to do. You should be thanking me,” he tagged on with a grin.

“I’ll make sure to give you lessons you when we get back. Can’t have Captain America clueless when it comes to dressing wounds.”

“Okay, okay, I’m just out of practice, that’s all.” And then suddenly, “Wait, could you hear me?”

She closed her eyes for a second. “Sort of.  You sounded far away.” She paused. “But trust me, you wouldn’t have been able to handle what I would have said to you if I had caught you undressing me.”

Eyes wide, Steve gulped and tried to ignore the way her words made him feel. The implication in the undercurrent of her comment was unmistakable.  It was already too warm for this liking but now it was…now it was much warmer. Unable to stop himself, he met her gaze. There was this obvious glimmer in her eyes; a teasing, but also something else. Something he had never seen before.

They stared at each other for a few long beats and though he desperately wanted to quip something back to keep their banter flowing and break whatever had come over them, he found himself completely floundering about for words. Truthfully, he was just so relieved that not only was she awake and seemingly okay, she was still herself and she was with him. And he didn’t mean that in a grand, romanticised kind of way, just in the simplest sense of the thought: he loved being around her, and if he was to be stranded in an old and out-dated motel, then he couldn’t think of anyone else that he’d rather be with.

Thankfully, Natasha was keen on keeping them on track even though the tone in her own voice had made a shift, too. He tried not to think too much about what that could mean either. “Could you help me sit up? It’s really hard to look up at you from this angle.”

“Oh yeah, of course. Sorry,” he muttered.

He stood then and reached down so that one arm was tucked under her knees as the other glided gently under her upper torso. The woman used her good arm to grab onto him as an anchor and used the strength she had left in her legs to assist him in getting her seated upright. Drawing in deep breaths to assuage the pain, she winced as she got into her desired position, lolling just a bit to the side as though the rocking movement could soothe her.

“You don’t need to apologise, Steve,” she said seriously, all façade and joking pushed aside.

His brow furrowed. “I-”

“You don’t need to apologise,” she repeated more sternly. “For anything.”

Steve sat back down on the bed, keeping his eyes on her. “I should have seen him. The shooter. I knew something was wrong and I don’t know how I let him slip away.”

“Why do you think you should have seen him? It’s not like you didn’t have your hands full.”

“I’m usually really perceptive about these things,” he answered even though he knew it was weak.

He couldn’t tell her the real reason.  He couldn’t tell her that he would do anything to make sure she was okay. That he hated the fact that he couldn’t be there to save her. That he hated that he couldn’t protect her. That he would never forgive himself if something worse had happened to her. That he couldn’t stand the thought of losing her.

That he loved her.

He should have been paying more attention.

Natasha appraised him with soft eyes, eyes that looked like they could see right through him and everything he was saying. He loved those eyes; eyes that were so open and genuine. They came out so rarely and mostly only to him.

“I didn’t see him either, Steve,” she whispered. “Just because you’re Captain America doesn’t mean that you have to be everywhere at once. You don’t always have to save the day and make everything okay. Sometimes things just happen. And we have to be okay with that.”

The man chuckled and ducked his head, abashed. “Figures. You’ve been shot and you’re giving me a pep talk.”

Natasha smiled, arching a cool eyebrow. “You must be rubbing off on me. Just don’t get used to it.”

He could have let the moment sink and end just there, let the words just drift off into some echo of memory and push on to the next thing – she sounded like she was ready to - but something inside of him just wouldn’t let him. Instead, he found himself confessing. “I just hated that I wasn’t there in time. That I couldn’t protect you. You know, you are…” he looked up, met her wide stare that seemed…wary and frightened? – and balked, “…we’re partners and I feel like I failed you.”

Her eyes remained unmoved. They bore into his as if trying to read everything he wasn’t saying and any other time he would have broken the trance, flinched under the scrutiny, but there was just the tiniest part of him that wanted her to see it all behind the words. He was feeling brave; braver than he ever had. He came close to losing her today – a couple of inches lower and that could have been it. And though he had no idea if she even felt a breath of what he felt for her, he wanted her to know that he saw her and he chose her, despite it all.

Licking her lips, she kept her voice just teetering above a whisper.  “You didn’t fail me. That’s the life we lead, Steve. We chose this. This life, this job. It comes with risks. It comes with the chance that someone might not make it back. It always has.” She stopped then, unsure. She was still in pain, moving a little more to the side and barring her teeth for a beat before continuing. “And like you said, we’re partners. I’ve got your back and I know you’ve got my back but sometimes we can’t always be where we want to be. So please don’t be so hard on yourself. I’m gonna be okay.”

“I know, I - you just…you mean a lot to me, Natasha.”

If he didn’t know any better, Steve thought he heard her heart quicken.

“I know.” With some hesitation, her hand reached out to graze his knuckles. It was as light as a feather but it was enough to set every sense of his on fire. “I worry about you, too.” This time she turned away and broke the contact, the sincerity of her words prompting her to retreat away from his gaze. And the sincerity was undeniable. He breathed a little stronger and let the truth fill him with just enough hope.

“Nat,” he started, swallowing. “I think I need to tell you something and I don’t know what you’re gonna think of it…”

Her head snapped back, eyes shining with what he thought was understanding yet the edges were tinged with dread. Her voice was tender, afraid. “Steve…” she prayed and he thought he could live off that sound for the rest of his life. “Just…just not now, okay?”

It was a plea.

She knew what he was going to say but she couldn’t hear it now. She wasn’t ready.

But that gave him hope.

Hope that there would be one day where she might be ready.

An understanding sigh tripped from his lips and he gave her his warmest smile, not wanting her to feel uncomfortable. He never wanted her to feel uncomfortable around him. He wanted to be the safest place for her. She smiled back, full. He nodded then, rubbing his hands on his legs, using the action to change the atmosphere but also to release whatever it was that was happening in his body.

“Well,” he declared, his voice stronger now, “I think you better get some rest. I haven’t heard from anyone but I think once you’ve taken it easy for a while, our best bet is to make a break for it and head back to base just before sunrise.”

“Yeah, I think that’s smart,” she agreed.

“Okay.” Steve stood up from the bed, grunting a little. He didn’t realize how tired his own muscles were.

“Wait, where are you going to sleep?” she quizzed.

He gestured loosely to the chair.

Natasha shook her head. “No way are you going to sleep on that. Come on.” She beckoned him over to the bed as she scooted haphazardly against the wall and slid down with extra caution into somewhat of a lying position. “You can sleep on the outside so if someone comes to get us during the night, they’ll get you first.”

“Oh, nice,” he chuckled. “And what about you?”

“What about me?”

“Well if I’m fighting the bad guys what are you gonna be doing?”

“Well while you’re toughing it out, I’m obviously going to escape,” she replied sweetly.

“Oh well I suppose as long as you escape that’s all that matters.”

“Yep. See this is why we make the best team.” Despite the tease, her smile was real. And it reached her eyes, drawing the same from him in reply.

Before joining her, Steve took the two chairs in the room and the chest of drawers and shoved them up against the door. No point in taking any chances. He then turned off the last light and carefully lowered himself down onto the bed, making sure as to not brush off her side as he did so and feeling way too large for this modestly-sized motel cot.  Something like this wasn’t made for anyone slightly above average height.

In the dark he could feel the weight of their conversation hovering over them. He ached to pull her flush to him and wrap his arms around her. He longed to know what it would feel like to have her head rest against his chest and to feel her fingers dance across his arms.

And then, as if she could read his mind, he felt her hand slip into his. The move was easy and smooth, as if they had done this a million times. She pumped it twice in assurance and he wasted no time in returning the response. Her skin was softer than he expected; there were callouses on some of her fingers – from the guns probably, but when he ran his thumb along her palm, he revelled in the silky feel, relishing in the chance of getting to know a part of her body intimately.

As their hands did this dance, they each drifted off to sleep.

A couple of hours later, a buzz from his comm woke Steve.

“Cap? Can you hear me? We’re on route. Stay in position.”

He looked over at Natasha who was still sleeping, looking less troubled than she had in some time. “Roger that,” he returned.

“You know, ever since I was a kid-”

“You mean like 100 years ago?” she jested, a tad brighter.

He smirked and rolled his eyes. “Yeah like 100 years ago,” he joked back fondly. “But all I ever wanted to do was to be a soldier. End injustice, bring peace, help make the world a safer, better place for everyone. But I always saw an end to it, you know? We’d win the war, I’d come home, get married, have a family, grow old. I mean, I knew there was always a chance that I might not make it out alive, but deep in the back of my mind was this longing to have a life after the war. I’d do my part and then I’d settle down.”

“With Peggy?” Natasha asked in a quiet voice. She was looking at him intently now, eyes only on his.

Steve nodded. “Yeah, if she would have me,” he tagged on with a short laugh.

“How could she not? You’re like the perfect gentleman, Steve. The solider with a heart of gold.”

“Ah, I don’t know about that.”

“I do. I’ve known that since our first mission together. Trust me; she would have been all yours.”

He couldn’t help but smile but sadness weighted his heart. That future with Peggy was all gone now, and as much as he saw a life after war before, now it felt like war was an inevitable part of him, and that whole other part of his life didn’t exist anymore. This was his life now.

But maybe he was okay with that. Making the world a better, safer place was why he was made after all. Maybe this was his greater plan.

“Yeah, well...turns out I missed the boat on that one. She was happy though,” he said, breaking his gaze to watch the night sky again. “Lived a good life.”

Slowly, Natasha’s hand reached over to cup his upper arm, just briefly. “I’m sorry, Steve. Sometimes it’s easy to forget what you’ve lost because we get so wrapped up in everything else that’s going on.”

“Thank you,” he replied. “But we’ve all lost things. Everyone here, each Avenger, has a reason to do what they’re doing and it all stems from some experience, some loss, or longing. I suppose it helps us focus, it spurs us on. I know not everyone is vocal about it though,” his words became softer now, “and Nat I want you to know that you can trust me, okay? When we’re out in the field, there’s no one I trust more than you, and no one I would rather have fighting alongside me than you, so if you ever need to talk, I’m here.”

For maybe the second time in all the time he had known her, he could see tears shining in her eyes and she moved just that little bit away from him as if to protect herself again.

“Peggy was in my vision,” he offered, opening up more, willing her to know that she could trust him. “We were at a celebration, the war was over and we had won. She told me that we could go home. We danced, and then everyone was gone and I was left alone.” Pausing, he set his jaw and closed his eyes just for a breath of a second. “The vision showed me what life I could have had and then showed me that that life wasn’t attainable anymore. That everyone was gone and I was still left fighting a war.”

The air grew heavy between them, the truth and honesty huddling around them. It was as if they were somewhere else entirely, in a whole other realm where it was just the two of them. He waited, sensing the emotional wrestle within her body, knowing that she was struggling. Maybe he shouldn’t have said anything; maybe it was wrong to add another level to their relationship, but she had lost something today and he had learned of a part of her he didn’t know existed – the part of her that ached for a sense of home. And, boy, could he relate to that.

“I was back in Russia in my vision. At my final graduation,” she finally ground out, her voice thick. “And just being there it…it made me remember the kind of person I was. I spent years trying to run away from it all and live differently – better - and all of sudden, with a flick of a wrist, I’m brought back to that place, and all I can think about is how….how I’m a monster. That I’m a machine built for one purpose and one purpose only: to kill. And that’s all I’m good for.”

“You’re not a monster, Nat. So far from it.”

The words shot out of him before he even knew they were forming on his lips.

“Yeah, well you don’t know everything I’ve done, Rogers.”

“I don’t need to know.”

She snorted and then sniffed, tears escaping.

“No seriously,” Steve continued, this time leaning down so that she could see his face. “Natasha I’m not going to pretend that I know everything about you or your past or what you’ve done, but I do know you. I know who you are now. Are you highly skilled and a formidable opponent to anyone who gets in your path? Yeah, absolutely. You’re one of the best, if not the best fighter I’ve seen. There’s a reason you’re on this team. You don’t need super serum running through your veins to make you someone.” That drew a smile from her and his heart warmed knowing that he put it there. “But I also know that you’ve dedicated to your life to fighting for those who can’t fight for themselves. You joined SHIELD because you wanted to make an actual difference and to put a stop to those who do the things that were done to you. That doesn’t sound like a monster to me. Almost sounds like a hero, don’t you think?”

Another beat of silence.

Another sniff.

And then, “No wonder they call you Captain America,” she mused, voice still a little deeper than usual. “That was some speech.”

“Glad you liked it. But I meant it. Every word.”

The woman straightened now and turned her frame so that they were face-to-face. A gradual and tentative hand came up to rest on the side of his face, and Steve noted how he leaned just that little bit more into the touch. “Thank you, Steve. For everything. I don’t say it a lot and I don’t express it very well but-”

“Anytime,” he interjected.

Natasha moved to kiss his other cheek, her lips warm and soft. It was quick but it was tender. “Same goes for you, too.”

When she broke away, he tried to ignore the pang of disappointment. It was as though a spell had been broken and part of him wanted to reach out and pull her in for a hug, but he didn’t want to ruin the moment.

“Well, I guess I better try to get some sleep,” she announced, her body that bit looser now and the grin that formed on her mouth was definitely more like the Nat he knew. “Goodnight Steve.”

He smiled in response. “Goodnight.”

“Oh and don’t tell anyone about this, okay?” she said playfully with a wink as she was leaving.

Steve shoved his hands into his pockets and fixed his smile on the ground, nodding in agreement. “About what?” he teased back, pulling a laugh from her.

He stayed there for a few minutes longer, feeling the lightest he had felt since the mission had ended.