'Til The End Of The Line

There wasn’t a single dry eye in the room as the minister spoke, least of all, Y/N. Her hand was held gently by Natasha, while Wanda sat on her other side, rubbing her back. She was still in a daze, refusing to believe that her husband was gone. Yet there he laid in front of her, eyes closed as if he were merely sleeping. She knew better though. He never looked that angelic asleep. Mouth usually open, letting out a snore. She almost laughed at the image now, before choking on more tears. Before she realized, Bucky was getting up to speak.

“The world just knew him as Captain America. Yeah, they know he’s-know he was a hero. But they didn’t see him as that scrappy little thing back in Brooklyn fighting with guys he had no business fighting with,” he smiled gently. “See, he’s always been a hero. He stuck up for the little guy even when he was the little guy himself. I saw him get into it once with this kid on our block because the kid just pushed a girl. We were twelve.” Bucky chuckled. “Steve was a brother to me. He was always there when I needed him, and,” he swallowed, meeting Y/N’s eyes. “Frankly, I don’t know what I’m gonna do without the punk here to kick my ass when I need it. I went through hell and back and Steve was waiting for me every time. But I experienced a world without him once, and I don’t like the idea of having to do it again. I know none of you do, either. The world’s a little darker today, but you know, Steve would want us all to keep doing what’s right. So I’m gonna fight and take care of as many bad guys as I can, stick up for the little guy. Steve’s waiting for me, and I gotta bring him a good story when I get there.” He looked at his friend in the casket. “To the end of the line, Pal.” The brunet walked over and kissed his friend’s widow on the forehead. “We have your back, Doll.”

She nodded, not quite meeting his eyes as Sam walked up to the podium to speak. “Okay, obviously I haven’t known the Cap as long as grandpa has.” Chuckles rang through the room as Sam paused. “But Steve was my friend. He was an ear when I needed to talk. He had advice when I needed it. When I needed the nerve to ask Wanda out, he encouraged me. He held our team together. Yeah, he led us. But he also held us together. He stitched us back together after the Accords fell through and was the first to help plan a better way. Like Barnes said, I don’t like the idea of a world without Captain America. But he wouldn’t want us moping,” he shook his head. “Nah. Bucky’s right. He’d want us to shake the dust off and get back up. Keep fightin’ because they sure as hell aren’t gonna stop. So we keep on going. If not for ourselves, let’s do it for him. Honor his memory by making the world safer.” As Bucky did, Sam also came over to her, kissing her cheek and muttering soft words of encouragement before moving to stand next to Wanda. Y/N watched through watery eyes as Tony now stood to speak, a deep sigh escaping him as he shook his head. “I don’t know about you all, but I could use a drink.” He paced across the platform, eyes on Steve’s body before he turned to sit on a step, microphone in hand. “This is team is a family, you see. And we just lost who is arguably the most important member of the family. But you know, my heart isn’t just breaking for me or for the world. No, the world will bounce back. It’ll take time. But we’ll all be okay. A darker world, certainly, but we will heal.” Tony stood now and began a slow pace around the platform. “Because Steve may have left us behind, but he did leave us behind with his own special superglue. Y/N, I’m so sorry for your loss. You’re gonna hear that a lot, and you’re gonna be so sick of it you’ll want to scream. There are no words to convey properly our sympathy. We all mourn for you and with you and when you’re ready to yell, we’ll be here for you. If you just need to blow off some steam, I’m sure we can find some bad guys for you to beat up. We love you, kid. I wish more than anything I could bring him back and take away this pain you’re feeling. If you need anything at all, you know where to find me. Until then, Terminator and Birdman said it all best. We fight in his memory and live because he wouldn’t want wallowing. So when we think of Steve Rogers, we should smile. Because he smiled even when hope seemed gone, because he knew there is always good in the world.”

As Tony moved to hug Y/N, the minister walked back to the podium. “If you’ll all please take a moment to listen to Steve’s favorite song, thinking on your favorite memories of or with him, now. Remember the words of his friends. We are not left without hope. He and everyone who loved us are waiting for us. Celebrate their lives so that you may now begin to heal.”

The tune to I’ll Be Seeing You began playing through the speakers, and her tears fell in a steady stream now. She heard the sniffles around her, but her focus was only on her husband lying in the casket. I’ll be looking at the moon, but I’ll be seeing you. She remembered the day she first danced to the song with him. “It was worth the wait,” he’d said.

“What was?” she asked, looking up as him.

“Waiting for the right dance partner,” he smiled.

She’d laid her head on his shoulder as they swayed together, wishing to stay like that forever. She only wished she could go back and relive that now, instead of being here, having to say goodbye to the man who held her heart. She wiped away the tears as it was time to bury her husband. She let Nat and Wanda lead her to the car as Bucky, Sam, Tony, Clint, Bruce, and Peter walked the casket to the hearse. At the cemetery, the minister said more words, and she felt herself go numb as Bucky and Sam folded the American flag, and nearby soldiers began the three volley salute, and Taps played as they saluted when the shots were done, grief hanging in the air as Bucky handed her the now folded flag. The casket was lowered into the ground and her body shook with more grief.Condolences were given at the wake, but Y/N barely came out of her sorrow to speak, let alone blink. Someone had gotten her a plate of food and a drink, but it sat in front her, untouched.

(Three Weeks Later)

She was sitting on the bed, cross legged, wearing a pair of his boxers-the joke Captain America ones she’d bought him for his birthday last year-and one of his shirts, an old movie in front of her, hairbrush in hand as she got up and sang into it. Judy Garland had a better voice than she did, but she was giving her a run for her money with the dramatics. As the song came to a close, she finished with a dramatic pose by the couch and applause rang through the room.

“Encore!” the cheerful voice of Wanda shouted.

“W-what are you all doing here?” Y/N was a deer in the headlights, glancing at Wanda, Nat, Sam, and Bucky, who were standing just inside the doorway, gift bags and balloons in hand.

“Happy Birthday!” they cheered.

Bucky scrunched his nose and everyone began talking over each other at once. “What is that smell?”

“Have you gone outside?”

“What’d you do to your head?”

“I-it’s a pimple.” Y/N stuttered.

“You always pop it too hard,” Natasha tutted, glancing at the bandage.

“What is that smell?” Bucky muttered once more.

“It’s me, alright!” Y/N snapped, throwing her hands up in the air before tossing the hairbrush to the couch. “I didn’t expect company,” she sighed, sinking to the couch.

“Alright, we’ll leave if you want. But at some point, you have to stop wallowing and get back to living,” Wanda sighed, setting down her gift bag.

“I-okay, just give me a minute,” Y/N nodded and went to the bathroom to shower.

“Alright troops. Spread out,” Sam spoke, nodding at the garbage littering the quarters. The men took care of that while Wanda went to take care of dishes and Nat went to pick out an outfit for her friend for the night.

Soon, she was dressed in a little black dress and a pair of flats, hair and makeup done perfectly. No sign she’d be holed in her room for days at all. Her friends all gathered around her as she finished opening up the presents from them. A knock sounded at the door before it opened and Pietro held up a box. “Y/N, this just arrived for you. Happy Birthday!”

She tilted her head as Pietro came in a set it on the coffee table. When she opened the box, she saw a birthday cake, ‘Happy Birthday, Y/N! Love, Steve’ was written in blue icing on top of white. “Who-Bucky did you do this?”

Bucky shook his head. “No, I-look-” he pulled something from the lid of the box-a tape recorder, and handed it to her.

She glanced around at her friends, nervous before pressing ‘play’.

“Doll, I wish I could be there to see you celebrating your birthday. But it’s good to know you’re surrounded by our family. I figured I’d hold off on these til your birthday, not that I really knew when these would be delivered. I don’t even know if I’m doing this for a good reason. Our line of work is just so dangerous. And there’s no guarantees we’ll walk away from every mission. I don’t want to leave you alone and hurting. So I assume if you’re hearing this, something happened,” there was a pause in the recording as Steve seemed to be collecting himself. “Sweetheart, words cannot express how much I love you. I figured there’d be some time of you ignoring the world and since I’m no psychic, I don’t know if my timing is right. But here’s hoping it’s good enough. It’s your birthday, Baby. So I want you to go out. Get dolled up. Nat, make a plan-”

“On it!” the red head jumped up, pulling Bucky with her.

“Go celebrate. Bucky, take care of my girl. Go have fun. You all deserve it. Take a break from life, and enjoy a night. Now, Doll, I’ve arranged some more letters for you. They’ll come to you different ways and at different times. I have an inside man, and though I know you can easily figure out who it is, I don’t want you to think about it. I want you to just go with it. Lord knows I always did the overthinking for us. So just take them as they come. They first will arrive in the morning but you can deal with that then. Now go have fun. P.S., I love you.” She met Bucky’s gaze, tears in her eyes.

“He’s an ass. How could he plan all this if he didn’t even know he was going to die?”

The assassin shrugged. “You know Steve. He was always overly prepared. Always careful. But hey, let’s listen to him. Let’s go celebrate your birthday.”

She nodded and followed him as he went in search of his wife. Before she knew it, they were blocks away at a bar, drinking to celebrate her birthday. Strangers in the bar were coming up to them all, wanting pictures, and coming to her to offer condolences. Some were coming to thank them for saving the world. It was all a little overwhelming to her in the moment, but alcohol was her friend. And then she made friends with a few bar patrons, drunkenly rambling about Steve to them.

“Honey, I lost my Phil fifteen years ago. It hurts, and it don’t really stop hurting. But you take it day by day, and you’ll be fine. And God willing, you find love again. And that’s okay too. You don’t even have to stop loving your husband. That won’t happen, But you do accept that it’s okay to love another and he wouldn’t want you alone forever,” an older woman patted her hand. “You’ll be okay, hon. You’ll be okay.”

She accepted the comfort and tried to enjoy the rest of the night out with her friends when Wanda and Nat came over and whisked her to the dancefloor. They group ended the night back at the compound, with more drinking. Y/N sneaked away to the closet by the kitchen as the rest of the group played pool or just mingled.

Pietro wandered over to the closet, intent on grabbing a towel to wipe up the soda he’d knocked over. “Oh shit!”

“Sorry,” She chuckled awkwardly, looking up at him.

“What are you doing in here, Y/N?”

“Trying to figure out why fate decided it was my husband who had to die and not me.”

“Well,” Pietro scratched his face. “If you need any help with that let me know, I’ll just-” he nodded once and closed the door before starting to walk away.

“Wait!” she opened the door and pulled him roughy into the closet with her. “Why do you think-?”

“It was him and not you?” she nodded, prompting him to answer. “Well, I don’t know. Maybe you were too happy and karma got petty? Maybe. Maybe the universe just sucks. Sorry I don’t actually have answers.” He shrugged. “I mean you’re really pretty. Some gods are jealous.”

“Believe me, I don’t think someone can be too happy and I most certainly am not too pretty,” she slurred, still nursing a drink that she pulled off a shelf by her shoulder.

“I think you’re hot!” he grimaced at his word vomit. “Sorry, you know I don’t have much of a filter.”

“Doll, just talk to me, please!” followed the angry stomping from the woman leading the way down the hall. “Sweetheart, you gotta let me in on it,” he said as he bolted around in front of her, causing her to stop in her tracks, squinting up at him, lips pursed. “You’re waiting until we’re alone in our room to yell at me, aren’t you?” he said, glancing back at the figure of his best friend following in the distance to enter his own room. Y/N nodded once before moving around him once more.

He watched as she pressed her palm to the scanner next to the door, allowing her access to their quarters and trailed behind her, removing his gloves before sitting down to take his boots off. Bright blue eyes glanced up from the laces as he watched his wife pacing the room and angrily removing her stealth uniform. A belt landed on the floor, one fingerless glove was tossed on the coffee table, the other landed by his foot; a boot was removed and thrown by the door, the other landed near the bathroom.

“What was the fucking point of me even suiting up, then, if you weren’t planning on letting me DO anything?” she finally bit out.

Steve sighed and straightened in his chair. “Doll we just needed eyes up high, and Clint is still on his own mission.”

“And Bucky is a sniper!” she snapped, throwing her hands in the air, the top half of her uniform now rolled around her waist. “I’m a fucking fighter, Steven, if you don’t want me fighting the bad guys, you need to rewire your brain. I was simply doing what I could.”

“You were walking into a trap!” he finally yelled. “Excuse me for not wanting my WIFE dead!”

“THEY WERE HOSTAGES, DUMBASS!” a pillow flew across the room and hit his chest. He didn’t even acknowledge it as it landed on the floor.

“So radio in to us next time before trotting into gunfire by yourself!”

“Yeah, does that sound like anyone else you know?” she crossed her arms and cocked a hip. “Pot, meet kettle.”

“That’s different,” he sighed.

“Yeah? Why? Because I’m not a super soldier? Newsflash, Stevie, neither is half our team.”

“And that half of our team also has superpowers or powered armor.”

She opened her mouth and then shut it tight, unable to argue with that, until, “Wait, Clint doesn’t have either of those!”

Steve huffed, rubbing a hand down his face. “I’m not married to Clint, so I’m not having this argument with him. But for the record, I’d be angry with him for doing it as well.”

“But you wouldn’t have kept him from the fight in the first place,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

“No, he would have been our eyes up top in your place,” Steve nodded. “Just like you were for us.”

“And he would have done the same as me, seeing those hostages,” she countered.

“Doubtful, Doll. Unless he saw one get hurt or worse,” he shrugged. “Listen, can we agree we both reacted wrong here? And make up? I hate fighting you. Especially right after a mission.”

The woman scrunched her nose before turning to finish taking off the uniform. “Fine. Now help me wash my hair and I might just forgive you.”

He rolled his eyes but obeyed his wife, willing to follow her anywhere.

“Y/N! Get down!” Rang through the air with sounds of gunshots and explosions. Bullets sprayed past her as she dove behind an overturned jeep.

“Clint, do you have eyes on the case? I lost it in the fire,” she huffed, reloading her pistol. 

“Thirty feet behind you, but they’re moving in fast. The one time we could use pretty boy with us,” the archer grumbled in her ear.

She nodded once as she turned, peaking around the side of the vehicle, and began shooting as many enemies as she could. She smirked when she saw the shield fly through the air and take out of the the enemy agents. “Thanks, there, Cap.”

“Always here for you, Doll,” he gave a quick salute before punching the next man, knocking him out. She saw her path, and took off at high speeds to grab the case. Once she got it, she turned to sprint toward the meetup point, shooting whoever tried to stop her. 

“Shit,” she muttered, now out of ammo, as another agent came at her, knife in hand. Luckily, her husband was right behind her, shield flying to take him out. 

“Always, Doll,” he grinned, finger on earpiece. “We’re clear, everyone, let’s haul ass and get out of here.” He took a step toward her, and the smile dropped from her face as everything began moving in slow motion. Blood spread across his chest. He looked down before his eye met hers once more. Someone wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her away as she screamed and fought to get back to her husband. This wasn’t happening. It was a bad dream that she would be waking up from any second now. 

“STEVE!” she sobbed, eyes on the body Bucky now had slung over his shoulder.