#pre-infinity war

---

Her blond hair fell in waves in front of her face from what had been a tight bun at the back of her head.  Natasha shuffled up the steps to the massive archways, then dodged behind a chattering family of tourists as she stepped into the heavily surveilled lobby of the museum.  Passing a cluster of ceiling cameras she pretended to fiddle with the controls on her earphones to shield her face, before strolling into a side room and stopping to feign interest in a painting. She found him sitting in one of the sculpture galleries, his frame filling out a long bulky coat and his overgrown dark hair peeking out from under a baseball cap.  Smiling, she remembered how he had originally chafed against his instinct to remove his hat inside a building.   His head was ducked low over what she realized, soundlessly stepping closer, was one of his sketchpads.  He was sketching a sculpture a few paces in front of him, a centuries-old composition in marble and classical Greek. “Class end early?”  Steve didn’t even look up from where he was carefully filling in a shadow. One of these days, she promised herself, she’d be able to sneak up on him again.  “Faye had to go pick up her kid at school.” “She should’ve made you take over.” “Oh, I’m pretty bad even for a beginner.  Take your time, though, I can look around for a while,” she added as he flipped the sketchbook shut.   Skylight sunshine brought out the blue in his eyes as he shrugged, already shoving his sketchbook and pencils into his bag.  “I could use a snack anyway.” “You already are a snack,” she couldn’t resist pointing out, as he offered her his arm. “Oh is that what the kids are saying these days?”  He grinned back. She threw her hands up in mock frustration.  “I really don’t know what my classmates are saying half the time.” He steered her out into the corridor.  “Now you know how I feel.” He pretended to get confused halfway through the museum in entirely the wrong direction, and she pretended not to know better.  She was enjoying herself too much, her arm slipped companionably through his as they ambled among the displays.  He kept stopping and she obliged him patiently, watching without a word as his eyes lit up from one exhibit to another. “You’re really maxing out your stealth lessons today, you know that?” she murmured as they sipped coffee at a sun-dappled outdoor table at a kiosk outside the museum.  “There’s only so much a baseball cap can do.” He smiled ruefully.  “Sorry, Nat.  You know I can’t resist this kind of place.” She knew.  She grinned forgiveness at him over the rim of her cup. “I’ve been thinking about going back to school.”  His tone was wistful even as his eyes tracked restlessly across passersby, the soldier watchful out of habit.  “You know I never went to college?  It wasn’t much of a thing in my time.” “What, in this economy?” she joked.  She knew he wasn’t serious, couldn’t be serious, and the reasons saddened her: He was too big, too odd, would draw too much attention.  He’d need documents.  He met her smile for bittersweet smile.  “Not even Fury would agree to pay for student loans,” she quipped, resisting the urge to chase away the resignation in his face with a touch of her hand. “We could sell the quinjet.”  He let her sugar packet hit him in the face and chuckled.  “Craigslist.  No one would have to know.” “I’ll cash in some dividends from Wakanda,” she deadpanned.  “Give you a real low interest rate.  Just ‘cause we’re friends.” His impulsive, gentle kiss kindled sparks in her belly, reassured her they were far more than just friends.  She savored the secondhand taste of unsweetened coffee on his lips and the subtle scratch of his beard against her cheek. She bought herself a slice of cake.  It was stone-cold from the display and the marshmallow frosting had dried up a little on the edges, but she wanted an excuse not to go home yet.  Sure enough, as she sat back down at the table, she saw Steve had taken out his sketchpad again, darting appraising glances up at the museum building across the way.  He liked drawing architecture, she’d noticed. Taking small bites of her cake she watched him work in silence, quickly filling a new blank page with bold strokes for the sharp angles of walls and roof, outlining finials and cornices in smaller, more precise movements.  Most of the Avengers didn't even know about Captain America’s art school background.  She’d only found out because she’d made an effort to, back when Fury first assigned them together; she couldn’t very well put her life into the hands of a stranger, she’d reasoned—not even a stranger who was also a legend.  And even after he found out that she knew, it had taken him a long time to stop trying to hide his sketching from her.  Not out of shame or embarrassment, as she had first guessed, but because it was so intensely personal to him.   Even now she pretended to be looking somewhere else, only watching out the corner of her eye as he carefully shaded in brick and ivy on the page.  He probably already knew she was looking anyway, she told herself.  She remembered his old photograph from the Smithsonian and tried to picture him scrawny and small, sketching the Chrysler Building maybe, or St. Patrick’s Cathedral. “You could just take classes,” she offered later, as they detoured along the river on their unhurried walk home.  “What would you major in, anyway, if you could?”   He smiled at the thought.  “I dunno.  Maybe history.  Or art history.” “Who knew Captain America was such a huge nerd.”  She smirked up at the mix of annoyance and amusement in his face.  Then, sombering, she squinted into the sunset.  “I could teach dance.” “You could.  Then you could be a soloist.  And I’d come watch all your shows.”  He squeezed her shoulders.  “I’d bring you bouquets backstage and all that.” His tone had lost its edge, grown fond and pensive.  She looked away, something clenching in her chest.  She forced a laugh.  “The other girls would probably kill me out of jealousy.” “I thought that only happened in movies.”  Chuckling, he folded his hand over hers, their fingers entwining. She drank in the golden wash of light over his face, the unfocused look in his eyes as he took in the skyline across the water, where windows and signs were already blinking to life ahead of nightfall.  In this city they were Mike and Nadine, dating for months now having met online, a gym buff and a beginner ballet hobbyist.  Now considering enrolment in art history and certification for the Cecchetti method, respectively.  Dreaming for a future Steve and Natasha could never have. Nat had taught at the Avengers facility, too, and at SHIELD before that.  Subjects a little more dangerous than ballet, a syllabus a little less structured.  She smiled at the memory of cavernous training rooms, of form drills escalating into sparring matches.  She had enjoyed the feel of a place for herself then, sheltered willingly in her new and strangely public identity as Agent Romanoff, member of something or other, part of a larger, well-oiled machine.  But these days, the dust only just beginning to settle from the Sokovia Accords, the unfamiliar sense of freedom—and anonymity—was not unwelcome.   “You should look up schools online,” she suggested doggedly, letting Steve wrap his arm around her shoulders against the evening wind.  She burrowed into the warmth under his chin, wound her arm around his waist.  “Even Harvard livestreams courses now.” She felt more than heard his grunt of acknowledgment.  He’d already left the topic behind.  Behind them the streetlamps along the boardwalk winked on, one after another in the settling gloom.  A couple strolled past, with five dogs straining at their leashes. “You heard back yet?” He was sharp and focused again.  She stifled a sigh. “I told Sam oh-two-hundred.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her hair, as if to apologize for his abrupt change in mood.  “Then we got all the time in the world.”

He never posted his own face, he didn’t want the questions at school, nor the sudden fame. He didn’t want anyone to pretend to be his friend only for a tag on his account. An account with nearly two million followers.

Everyone knew that it was run by Tonys personal assistant, because Tony Stark had verified that himself on twitter, Insta, and in live streams he did from time to time. He had asked Peter to join him, but Peter had always declined.

He was at the Tower this weekend and they were tinkering in the lab. It was almost time for a live stream and Tony was again asking him. “Petey, come on. It’ll be fun!”

“No, Tony. I need to finish this project, I have a photo to edit, and homework to make. And I don’t need the attention. I will decide when I’ll post my face.”

Tony smirked and said: “OK, I’ll leave you alone… for now. F.R.I.D.A.Y. put everything confidential away.”

“Sure thing, boss.” the AI said as things started to disappear.

Peters suit was one of the things, but he just overrode Tonys command and rolled his eyes while he continued working. Opposite to him Tony started his live stream: “Hello people, it’s me. Again. I don’t even know what I want to talk about. So, ideas?”

He went through some of the suggestions, talking about clean energy (Peter paid attention here, it was quite interesting), his suits (boasting, a lot. Eye rolls were done by Peter) , a bit of the accords (very brief and short. Peter saw the hurt flash through the older mans eyes and how quickly Tony covered it up woth fake bravado) and his thoughts on Wakandan technology (he was very positive, gushing about how smart Shuri was, which made Peter smile. He missed his friend). Then someone suggested @PPhotos, Tony immediately smirked and said: “That’s a very good suggestion. I love talking about my intern.”

Peters head shot up and he glared at Tony warningly. “Oops,” Tony only said, “Seemed like the sweet little puppy doesn’t want to, but hell, I never listened to anyone.”

Peter gave up hope and just listen as Tony talked about some of the projects he had helped on, which did wonders for his ego, he was very proud of his work. Then Tony said: “What I think of his photos? Well, I think they’re quite beautiful. I love the crowd pictures most. Just the day to day life, I guess, but that is because I can see the skyline form every perspective whenever I want, while the little moments between people are more difficult to see. Oh, you meant the pictures of me? Let me think.”

He pretended to think, then said: “Well, when I gave him permission to post me, he had a great picture of me and not all that many followers. It’s kind of gotten out of hand.”

He shrugged and Peter looked at him questioningly and he asked: “Really? I can stop if you want.”

With a hand motion his now finished project disappeared. Tony looked at him with a glint I his eye and he said: “He speaks! Yes, he is here in the room with me, but he’s a bit of a prick about being on the other side of the lens.”

Peter huffed and looked away. Tony continued: “But to answer your question, no I don’t mind. And all these people would kill me, if I’d shut you down. I think it’s great that people see another side of me than the picture the media paints of me, although the one with all the cups of empty cups was a bit too much. I have an image of lazy rich boy, you exposed my workaholic tendencies.”

Peter smirked, but then nodded while he thought and said: “I get that. The media hasn’t always been very kind to Iron Man and therefore you.”

Tony shrugged, he didn’t really care what the media was saying about him. “Anyway, I’m reading this chat and everyone wants to see you. It’s the only things they care about. Nothing else, I swear.”

He looked challenging at Peter and said: “Are you going to leave everyone hanging, kid?”

Peters face crumbled and he started yelling: “You fucker! You planned all of this! You motherfucker, you know I crumble under group pressure. You little bitch!”

The chat went wild about what this meant and Peter insulting The Tony Stark(TM). Tony wasn’t fazed by all the insults, opposite to what people thought Peter had a really potty mouth and Tony could be very irritating. He smiled innocently and said: “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

Peter glared at him. “Snake.” he hissed.

Then he walked to him and stood at the other side of the phone while he said: “I’m not doing this out of free will and I want you to know that.”

Tony laughed and said to the viewers: “We got him!”

The chat went wild. “Lady and Gents, and everyone else. Let me introduce you to Peter, also known as @PPhotos!”

He made jazz hands and Peter walked into view, looking quite grumpy, but he couldn’t keep it up. He smiled wildly and it lit up the room. The chat went wild again, this time messages of how cute an adorable Peter was were flooding in. The rest of the stream was spend with Peter telling embarrassing tales of Tony in the lab and Tony teasing Peter about his shyness and nerdiness, all in all a good time.

Y/N finally found the strength to open her eyes.

Steve was kneeling next to the bed with a soft smile on his lips.

“You’re home early.” She whispered.

He wasn’t expected back for another couple of days.

“I’m sorry for not updating FRIDAY. I just wanted to surprise you.”

Y/N cupped his chin. “I missed you.” She lazily pulled him closer to her face and kissed him.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open. 

For a moment, she was disoriented from the dream and forgot where she was. It wasn’t the same bedroom. The warmth of the sun was replaced with a cloudy overcast. When she turned over, the other side of the bed wasn’t disturbed. The duvet and and sheets were completely unwrinkled. 

Reality finally set in. 

Y/N rubbed her eyes and found her fingers covered in tears. She must have been crying in her sleep. It wouldn’t be the first time. 

Y/N didn’t bother trying to go back to bed. 

In fact, she refused to. The risk of having more dreams of him made her never want to sleep again. They were more like memories. It was as if her mind refused to let her forget. She did everything in her power not to think about Steve when she was awake. But whether it was her mind or her heart, they tried to keep his memory alive in her sleep. 

Y/N started making her usual pot of coffee. She drank the whole thing on her own throughout the day. 

“You’re going to stunt your growth.” Steve used to tease.

Y/N gripped the counter as she hears his voice saying it in her head. She takes in a deep breath and pushes the memory away. 

After making breakfast, Y/N looked around the home and tried to remember what was on her agenda for the day. She’d moved to Sitka, Alaska almost two years ago. There was a rundown lighthouse overlooking Sitka Sound. The town was desperate to get it back up and running. They offered to let someone even stay in it for free. All they had to do in return was remodel the home and get it running again. 

Y/N jumped at the offer. 

The manual labor gave her a distraction. Seeing instant progress right in front of her and knowing she was the only one responsibility for it gave her a reassurance that was desperately needed.  It gave her a feeling control when the rest of her life felt like the exact opposite. 

She scrubbed and sanded floors, painted, installed hardwood floors, and deep cleaned the entire place. Slowly but surely the lighthouse came together. 

It was a long project. But that was exactly why Y/N took it. 

“A fishing town? But why?” Steve asked as Y/N straddled his waist innocently.

Y/N used to have a problem with people invading her personal space. She would jump even when someone touched her unexpectedly. Steve used to think something terrible had happened to her before they met, that someone had hurt her. But Y/N’s aversion to physical touch was more of a preventive protection than reaction.

Once her and Steve started dating, he made it all go away.

“They look so homey. Everyone know’s each other. It’s like one of those towns where they all take care of one another. Not to mention they’re on the water. What could be more beautiful? Where I grew up, the closest body of water was a shitty lake half an hour away.”

Steve smirked at her explanation. “I see.” Then his face softened and he gripped her waist tighter. “Can I come with?”

“Hmm…” Y/N acted like she was thinking about it. “You are pretty cute.” He blushed. “I guess I have to keep you around, handsome.” She added a kiss to her hypothetical acceptance.

Y/N jumped when she heard someone knock at the front door.

It wasn’t uncommon to get visitors, which seemed odd for how small the population was in Sitka. Mothers would worry about her eating enough and bring her dinner. Others would drop in and make sure she got all the help needed to finish renovations that were beyond her knowledge and capability. Y/N found it sweet and endearing. Their unannounced arrivals never annoyed her.

She opened the door to find Tommy standing with two liters of paint in both of his hands. He was one of the few eligible bachelors in town. He was Native American and his family had lived in Sitka before the Russians.

“Hey, Y/N. The colors you ordered finally arrive at the store…figured I’d bring them over for you.” Tommy shrugged and walked past her.

“Thanks, Tommy. You could’ve called me. I would’ve come and got them myself.”

He shrugged. “It’s no problem. Slow day at work anyway.”

Y/N nodded and gave him a shy smile. She couldn’t deny that Tommy was very handsome. He was tall, lean, and had a kindness to his face that couldn’t be overlooked. But Y/N didn’t know if she’d ever look at another man and see something other than friendship.

“Hey, what are you doing tonight?” Tommy asked casually.

“Ugh…why do you ask?”

He laughed at how tense her body got. “Jesus, Y/N, I’m not asking you out on a date. Just relax. My friends and I are going out later. I wanted to know if you’d come.”

Y/N looked down at her feet. “That’s really nice, Tommy, but-”

“Come on, Y/N.” Tommy urged. “You can’t stay here all the time. It’ll drive you crazy. You deserve a night out. I promise my friends are nice.”

She took in a deep breath and finally nodded.

-----

Y/N watched Tommy and his friends from outside the bar. They were oblivious to being watched, too busy laughing and drinking.

Y/N knew he was right: she couldn’t hide away in that lighthouse. Even though that was exactly what she wanted to do on most days.

She took in a deep breath, then vowed to try and have a good time.

To her surprise, it was.

Tommy didn’t lie about his friends being nice. Most of them already knew her or had heard about her. They asked about her life and she asked about theirs. They drank a lot. It was necessary in the cold environment. Y/N couldn’t remember the last time her stomach hurt from laughing. It felt good. Before they knew it, the bartender was kicking them out for closing time.

None of them were able to drive, but they all separated to make their walks home. The town was small enough to make it back on foot.

Tommy and Y/N lived in the same direction for the most part. They were walking through a forest and could see the stars perfectly. Most people would be freaked out by the darkness. But Y/N had always found it so soothing.

The two of them reached the point in the trees where they had to part ways.

“Welp. This is where I leave you, Tommy Boy.” Y/N slurred and giggled. She had another mile to walk up on an isolated, dirt road.

“I can walk you home.” Tommy offered. He was happily drunk, but clearly more together than she was.

“No, no, no. I’ll be fine. I like to be alone with my thoughts.” She joked.

Tommy’s face went serious. “Don’t let them take over.”

Y/N sobered up a bit and her expression dropped at his comment.

“I know you’ve seen loss. A beautiful girl like you doesn’t come to this place all alone if they’re not running from something. We’re your friends now. I’m your friend. When you’re ready…I’ll listen.”

Y/N shrugged and looked at the ground. “I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.”

Tommy gave her a sad look. But he pulled her into a tight hug. Y/N almost cried at how good it felt. It had been years of touch starvation. Just this platonic gesture almost broke her into a fit of tears.

“Thank you for tonight, Tommy. I’m glad I came.” She whispered and pulled away.

Tommy nodded slowly. “Text me when you’re home so I know you didn’t get eaten by a bear.”

Y/N scoffed. “I’m sure the wolves would get me first.”

“No way. They protect you.”

She scrunched her face in confusion. “How are you so sure?”

“Because I tell them to.” Tommy teased and sent a wink before walking away.

Y/N continued her journey down the dark road that led to her home. She could see the beam of the lighthouse as it rotated. It felt romantic to have something so literal always guiding her home.

There was a branch that broke a distance behind her. Y/N gasped and whipped around, desperately trying to find the cause of the noise. Something in her gut said it wasn’t an animal.

When she turned back around, her breath left her entirely. In front of her was a black wolf. It was crossing the road perpendicular to her but stopped mid-stride to look at her.

Y/N stared at it for a moment. Its hackles weren’t raised and its teeth weren’t bared. It was simply watching her curiously. But then its eyes seemed to be looking past her. Y/N would’ve tried to follow its gaze, but she was frozen in fear.

“Tommy said you’d protect me.” She whispered, mostly to herself.

The wolf responded with a loud howl before sprinting into the distance.

Y/N let out a breath she didn’t realize she had been keeping in and keeled over to balance her weight on her knees. She all but sprinted the rest of the way home.

-----

“Your problem is that you think too much!” Y/N giggled as she spun in circles.

Steve pouted as he watched how carefree his girlfriend was as she danced.

When he was going down memory lane, he told her how Bucky was the one to dance with all of the dames. Meanwhile, Steve could hardly stick to the beat of song. Y/N then made it her mission to teach him anything and everything she knew about dancing.

“I-I’m not thinking too much.” He half-heartedly defended.

She danced over to him. “Yes, you are! I can see it in your brow!” Then she touched his eyebrows until they relaxed.

Steve chuckled at her. She had a gift at making him step away from his stern and righteous Captain America side. It was one of the many things he loved about her.

“I prefer watching you dance.” He added while crossing his arms.

“Well,” She danced around some more. “As much as I love dancing on my own,” she grabbed his hand and dragged him to her. “Sometimes I need a partner.”

He continued struggling a bit.

“Steve, relax.” She soothed, leading him around the room. “Think about when you draw, how your mind just relaxes and you’re not actually thinking. This is the same thing. All you gotta pay attention to is the beat.”

Steve sighed and stopped, laughing lightly at himself. “I look stupid.”

“There’s no such thing as looking stupid when you’re dancing.” Y/N argued with a stern look. Then she started twisting her body in the weirdest way. “Dancing is dancing. As long as you have rhythm and look like you’re having fun… nothing is too weird.”

Steve was listening to what she said as he became mesmerized. It didn’t matter what goofy moves Y/N did, he thought she was the most beautiful thing he would ever see.

“What?” Y/N breathes, clearly getting a workout from her dancing. “What is it?”

“I love you.” Steve said as if it weren’t the first time saying it.

Y/N’s movements stopped and she was still breathing heavily from both the dancing and the shock of his statement. Steve stepped forward. “I love you.” He said again for good measure before grasping her face and kissing her.

“Miss?” The grocery store clerk brought Y/N out of her memory.

“I’m sorry, what?” She shook her head slightly.

“I asked if you needed help finding something.”

Y/N laughed awkwardly. “No, thank you. Sorry. I just zoned out. I was listening to the song.” She pointed upward, referencing the overhead speakers. It was playing the same song as when Steve had said ‘I love you’ for the first time.

-----

Y/N decided to give herself a day off from working on the house.

Instead, she decided to go into town and read at the coffee shop. It was pouring rain, making her seat at the window that much better.

She was just getting to the good part of her book when someone placed a latte on her table. From the smell alone, she knew it was her favorite flavor.

Y/N glanced up just in time to see Tommy slide into the seat across from her.

“What are you doing here?” He asked while brushing water off his raincoat.

“I decided I earned a day off…just came here to read and relax.”

Tommy watched Y/N for a moment. He caught the sadness in her eyes. “You okay?”

She nodded, but it wasn’t even slightly convincing.

Tommy didn’t push her, just waited patiently.

Y/N gently set her book down and took in a shaky breath.

“Fine.” She nodded to herself and then stared out the window as she finally allowed herself to reflect on the past.

“I was in love.” She whispered. “Really in love. I didn’t think it was possible before it happened. I wasn’t even sure I believed it before I met him.”

“Something happened to him?” Tommy asked carefully.

“Yes…and no.” Y/N ran a hand through her hair. “He…” Her voice quivered. “He had to leave…to disappear.” Her eyes began to water, but she refused to let herself cry. “I guess I never realized our relationship would disappear with him.”

“And that’s why you came here?”

Y/N nodded. “I figured if he got to disappear and never come back, so could I.”

Her phone started ringing on the table.

“I’ll let you take that. I just wanted to come over to make sure you were okay.” Tommy got up from his seat.

“Tommy?”

He waited.

“Thank you.”

Tommy knew she wasn’t thanking him for the latte.

“Hello.” Y/N answered the phone in a hushed tone.

“How you doing, kid?”

She sighed. “You don’t have to keep checking on me, Tony.”

“Yeah, I do.”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “I’m fine. I promise.” But her concern was now elsewhere. “How are you doing?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Y/N.” Tony chuckled.

“I told you she’d take you back.” She smiled.

“How the hell-”

“I can hear it in your voice. No one makes you sound happier than Pepper does.”

The line went quiet.

Y/N needed to know. “Do you know where he is?”

Tony sighed. She could practically hear him rubbing his face. “Last time I managed to get a location on him, he was in Dublin.”

She exhaled. It gave her a strange relief knowing she was still on the other side of the world from him. Like she didn’t think he deserved to find her.

“If the roles would reverse, I would want him to check up on Pepper.” Tony defended himself from an attack Y/N had yet to inflict.

“If he was so worried about me, he’d check on me himself, Tony.” She snapped.

“Y/N-”

“Tony, don’t!” She cut him off. Whatever defense he was going to give for Steve, it didn’t matter. She didn’t want to hear it. “Thanks for checking up on me. I’m glad you and Pepper finally figured things out. I’ll talk to you again soon, yeah?”

“Yeah. Take care of yourself, kid.”

“You too, Tony.”

-----

“It’s gotta be me.” Steve said in his hotel room.

You had flown with him to Peggy’s funeral.

It was a strange circumstance: accompanying one’s boyfriend to their ex-girlfriend’s funeral. But Y/N knew he needed her. And quite frankly, Peggy was a bit of an idol to her, as well. No wonder Steve had fallen in love with the woman.

The TV was playing in the background. Every news channel was playing the same coverage: Bucky Barnes’ Attacks the Signing of the Sokovia Accords.

“He could kill you, Steve.” Y/N warned.

“If he really did this.” He pointed to the screen. “If he was really the one to set that bomb off…It has to be me to bring him in. Because if I don’t, he’ll end up dead. No one else can do this. He’ll just end up hurting more people and it’ll make everything worse.”

“But the Accords… you said-”

“I know.” Steve sighed. “I know what I said.”

Y/N knew there was no arguing with him. Because she understood how Steve thought. But more importantly, she knew how much Bucky meant to him. She’d been with Steve the  two years he desperately searched for him.

She grabbed his hand. “You do what you have to do, Steve. Just take care of yourself, okay?”

Steve nodded. “Do me a favor. Go visit your parents for a bit.” Her brow furrowed. “Just…If something happens. I need to kno-I want to make sure you’re safe.”

She nodded.

Suddenly Y/N’s eyes started watering. A wave of emotions hit her unexpectedly.

“Hey, hey, hey.” Steve hurriedly said. It broke his heart every time he saw Y/N cry. There were very few times when he had been the cause of it. But now he had nothing else to blame but himself. “Please don’t cry. Everything’s going to be fine.”

“You’re about to be a criminal, Steve. I think I’m allowed to fucking cry.” Y/N managed to spew out through the tears.

Steve pulled her into his chest. His hand rubbed circles on her back, desperately trying to soothe her.

After a few minutes, Y/N pulled away to look into Steve’s sad, blue eyes. “Everything’s going to change. You do realize that, don’t you?”

He swallowed. There was nothing he could say. They both knew she was right. And Steve refused to lie to her. She would see right through it. All Steve could do was hope that the change was positive. The chances of that were slim though.

-----

Y/N looked out at the water from the tower of the lighthouse.

Sometimes the only thing that would stop her thoughts was the pressure of the water when she submerged herself in the bay. The weird version of silence was a distraction she decided she needed.

Without thinking about it further, Y/N made her way down the stairs and walked to the dock she had just added to the property. The wood was smooth and cold against her bare feet. She stared at the water for a moment before her body moved on its own.

Y/N started stripping her clothes away.

It was an oddly warm day for Alaska. Not really warm enough to swim, despite it being August. But Y/N wasn’t thinking straight.

The lighthouse was secluded and there wasn’t another home for almost half a mile. Therefore, Y/N didn’t bother with subtlety and dove into the water naked. It was freezing. But the shock of it all felt disturbingly good to Y/N. Her muscles ached from the chill but she ignored it as she ducked her head underwater. Y/N closed her eyes as she focused on the ambiance of the bay.

Y/N heard the music playing from the kitchen. The memory of it echoes in her mind and mixed with the underwater pressure.

She woke up to sound of jazz playing. The scratch of the record player was obvious. Y/N smirked at how cozy she felt. The only thing that would make it better would be having Steve still on the other side of the bed. Y/N stretched, not caring about her nakedness showing as the sheet fell at her waist from the movement.

She must have fallen asleep after sex. It had been in the afternoon and now the sun had set. Steve rarely slept the normal hours of a human. He claimed the serum made him need less sleep than the average person. Y/N usually woke up alone, but Steve was never too far away. It was usual for her to wake up with a note on the nightstand or a warm cup of coffee already waiting for her.

Y/N scurried around the room to find clothes. She almost tripped as she stepped into a pair of underwear. Then she decided to wear one of Steve’s t-shirts than find one of her own. When she got to the kitchen, she found Steve dancing lightly around the kitchen as he made them dinner. It was nothing fancy and the movements were repetitive. But he never looked more adorable and endearing.

“I told you, you could dance.” Y/N said with a tired voice.

Steve whipped around and gave her an embarrassed smirk. His eyes brightened at the sight of her wearing his t-shirt. It was a common occurrence, but it still made him happy every time she did it.

“Hey, sleepy head.” He greeted with love in his blue eyes.

Y/N tiptoed to him and was greeted with a kiss.

“You can only blame yourself for my need to sleep…” She muttered cheekily.

Steve blushed at her meaning. Then he continued stirring and cooking dinner. “Come here.” He gestured her to him.

She looked confused but did as he said.

Steve brought them into a proper slow dance position. Suddenly the song changed on the record player. Steve began swaying them with confidence and grace Y/N didn’t know he possessed.

Suddenly he twirled and brought her back even tighter to his chest.

Y/N laughed at the surprise. “Steve-?”

“I’ve been practicing.” He answered before she even asked.

“You deserve a man who can keep up with you, Y/N.”

Y/N gasped as she finally emerged from the water. Her lungs were begging for air so much that her chest actually began to ache. The rest of her body decided it was done with the cold water and made it clear to Y/N that it was time to get out.

But when she turned around to swim back to the dock, she stopped abruptly and let out a gasp at the sight before her.

Up the hill and surrounding the lake was an entire pack of wolves. They stared down below, some at her and others at something else. Just like the other night, there was no animosity or danger in their stance. But Y/N was still shook from their presence.

The hairs on the back of Y/N’s neck stood up and she couldn’t help but think it had nothing to do with the animals. Was someone watching her?

Swimming naked and alone suddenly didn’t feel like such a brilliant idea.

But Y/N was shaking in the water now. She needed to get out before she started getting hypothermia or drowned from her muscles refusing to move. Taking in a deep breath and praying that the wolves didn’t descend on her, Y/N quickly stepped up the ladder and threw on her flannel before running back into the house.

-----

Y/N decided to have Tommy and his friends over for a nice dinner and drinks.

Once again, they brought a warmth to her life that she forgot she missed. It also brought back guilt for not staying in touch better with her friends and friends back home.

Y/N found herself content and with a soft smile on her face as she moved about the home to clean up the dishes and put leftovers away. Of course, Tommy stayed to help and ignored her protests. They chatted through their light buzz and giggled about funny things that had happened through the night with their friends.

Eventually Tommy called it a night and promised he’d text when he got home safely. He gave Y/N a giant, warm hug that reminded her of a bear.

Y/N turned up the music and continued her cleaning. She swung her hips and did an unnecessary turn here and there. But she never fully danced.

Then Y/N jumped slightly when someone knocked at her door. It was muffled through the soft music she was playing loudly. She smirked, assuming Tommy had forgot his keys or cellphone per usual.

Y/N skipped to the door and swung it open.

Nothing could’ve prepared her for what she found.

Steve Rogers was standing on the other side of her front door. His hair was long and pushed away from his face. His usually baby smooth skin was now covered in a shaggy beard.

“S-Steve…” Y/N could hardly even whisper out a stutter.

His lips barely quirked into a smirk.

“How…Wh-what are you doing here?”

He nodded slowly, knowing he owed her more than an explanation. “Can I come in?”

Y/N’s body is moving on its own, for she steps aside and finds herself opening the door wider without her consent.

Steve looked around the home. He sees the dozens of candles almost burnt out, the wine glasses stained from wine and lipstick, and the freshly washed dishes.

While he’s taken in her new home, Y/N studied him. He wasn’t dressed in his usual civilian clothes. All the colors were darker. He wore black jeans and had them tucked into his scuffed up combat boots. He wore a maroon hoodie underneath his black, leather jacket.

Y/N had to give him points for his disguise. If she hadn’t been deeply in love with the man, she would’ve never recognized him for Captain America.

“How did you find me?” She finally asked, her voice shaking.

Steve finally stopped surveying her home to answer. “I had to beg Tony.”

Silence filled the room once again.

“Steve,” Y/N sighed. “What the hell are you doing here?”

He bowed his head. “I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t be here. It’s not fair to you. I…I just had to see you.”

A realization suddenly hit her. “You’ve been watching me, haven’t you?” The weird feelings from the past week made sense now.

Steve just nodded.

“So you’re just allowed to interrupt my new life whenever you feel like it? Watching without me knowing it?” This was when Y/N’s anger, the anger she’d bottled up for the past 3 years, finally decided to escape. “I haven’t seen or heard from you in years! If it weren’t for Tony, I would’ve just assumed you had died.”

“I’ve only been in town for the past week or so.” Steven answered the first question, but ignored the second part of it. “The man, the one that left just before I knocked…is he…are you two..?”

Y/N glared at him. “How dare you even think you can ask me that?”

Steve’s jaw clenched. “Listen, Y/N, I know more than anyone that I don’t deserve you. I never expected you to wait around for me. In fact, I came here half hoping to find you happy and in love with some other man.”

Her eyes narrowed even further. “And do I look happy, Steve?” She hissed. “Do I look like I’m in love and life’s never been better?”

Steve couldn’t bring himself to answer.

“You’re not saying anything because you already see that the answer is no!” Y/N yelled. “I stayed in our apartment and waited. The CIA interrogated me for months after the incident in Siberia. I’ll never forget the look they all gave me when they finally realized I truly had no idea where you were. I waited for a year, Steve. Then I realized you really were never coming back.”

“Is that why you came here?” Steve asked in shame.

“You were allowed to run away? Why shouldn’t I?” Y/N challenged.

Steve knew all of Y/N’s hostility and anger towards him was completely merited. So he stood there and took it. Because after 3 years of being apart from her, having Y/N yelling at him was better than not having her at all.

“Not that you deserve an answer to your question…But no. Tommy is not my boyfriend.” Y/N took in a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I wonder why it’s so difficult for me to fathom the idea of loving someone else after you.” She added with a sarcastic bitterness.

“Does that mean you still love me?” Steve whispered.

Y/N blinked, completely blindsided by the question. “What?”

“Do you still love me?” He said it slower this time.

Y/N threw up her hands and ran a hand through her hair in distress. She couldn’t look at him as her eyes filled with tears. “I…Steve…you can’t-you can’t ask me that…”

“Because I love you. I’ve always loved you and always will. I thought about you every minute of these past few years. Y/N, you’re it for me. You’re always going to be my girl.”

Y/N was shaking now. “Don’t. Please.”

Steve ignored her plea. “I’m sorry, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry. I know there’s nothing I can say that will make you understand or forgive me. How can I make you understand that I had to leave?”

The tears had escaped now and trickled down Y/N’s cheeks. “The problem was never that you left, Steve. The problem was that you never ever even considered taking me with you.”

Steve glared at her. “You would’ve become a fugitive, just like me, Y/N. It wasn’t safe. I couldn’t be selfish like that. As much as I wanted to take you with me, I refused to put you in that kind of danger.”

Y/N’s cellphone vibrating grabbed both their attention. She went to it, needing some kind of escape from the conversation. It was Tommy telling her he got home okay.

“Where have you been staying?” Y/N’s sudden change of topic caught him off guard.

“I rented this truck…it’s parked somewhere in town.” Steve fumbled through his explanation.

“One of the guest rooms is finished.” She pointed to a long hallway that led to the other side of the house. The home was clearly meant for a family, meaning Y/N had more space than one person ever needed. But at the moment, she was glad that particular guest room was on the first floor and the north wing. Meanwhile her bedroom was upstairs on the south.

“You don’t have to do that, Y/N.” Steve tried to decline.

Y/N glared at him. “It’s the middle of the night, Steve. This is Alaska. Not Brooklyn. It’s not safe to walk around at night by yourself.”

“Is that why you do it?”

Her eyes snapped up. “It was you that night.”

Steve nodded.

She didn’t react further, only turning to go upstairs to her bedroom.

When Y/N reached her room, she went into her bathroom and stared at herself in the mirror. How much had she changed since Steve last saw her? Was her skin duller? Her eyes less bright or full of love? Was she less beautiful after going through years of heartbreak?

Y/N could barely sleep knowing that Steve was under the same roof.

So I tried to make this one part. REALLY I DID. But i was struggling and I knew it would end up being like 10,000 words. So I decided to split it into two parts. Stay tuned! 

Part 2

“We adjusted the settings to wake you up. I was hesitant at first because it meant taking up more time than usual, which could have damaged your brain tissues severely—“ At Bucky’s wide eyes, she smiles even wider. “But it seems to be working, so no worries!” 

“Well, I trust you,” he mumbles, to which Shuri laughs.

“As if you have a choice, Sergeant Barnes.”

He looks around the room, occupied only by one other person (Shuri’s favourite assistant, probably. Bucky’s never been introduced to her) and it looks like an exact carbon copy of the room he woke up in the first time— 

Except. His eyes land on something on a roundtable next to his examination chair. 

There’s a small pie placed on it, no larger than Bucky’s palm, in all its golden glory complete with a lattice upper crust that seems to have been delicately put together. It sits on top of a small, white box like a child’s birthday cake, or a modest divine offering. He shakes his head slightly, thinking he might be dreaming or having delusions. It’s not far-fetched for a recently cryogenically frozen man. 

Shuri catches his line of sight and follows it, an eyebrow quirking. She grins. “You must be starving. We’ve got time, we’re in no rush since you’re not feeling sick. Go on,” she points a thumb at the pie. “Eat up! It’s for you.” 

Bucky hesitates. “You sure?”

“‘Course." 

He pulls the pie closer, grabbing the spoon laid beside it. “You always serve your patients nice desserts after you fish them out of a freezer?” 

Shuri lets out a snort as she scans Bucky’s shoulder slowly with a device wrapped around her finger. They’re not as intimidating anymore, her devices, as they seemed to be the first time Bucky woke up. The cold touch of sterile metal surfaces had turned his limbs rigid at first, like it was an automatic response, but with Shuri’s patience and her team of brilliant scientists, they had managed to distract Bucky long enough for him to forget he was being closely scrutinised. Now, it’s only the second time he’s conscious, and already the fear is long forgotten.  

“As hospitable as we Wakandans are, someone beat us to getting you the apple pie.”   

Bucky draws his eyebrows together. “Who’s it from, then?” 

For some reason his confusion seems to be a source of amusement for Shuri, because she steps back with a knowing smile. “You’ve had several loyal visitors during your… time off, you know.” She cocks her head in the direction of the table. “You might want to check the box.” 

He didn’t even think of moving the pie from its resting place on the box, which probably speaks volumes of his cognitive capabilities at the moment. He doesn’t dwell on this, however, and instead lifts the pie up to see a hastily-written note scrawled on a yellow post-it stuck on the top of the box. 

Buck,

Sorry I couldn’t be there the first time they took you out. Or this one. But I got Sam to sneak into Brooklyn’s best bakery for this pie. Had to convince T'challa it was worth the risk. Hope I wasn’t wrong.

Get better soon.

Your pal,

Steve

A pang of longing cuts across his chest even as he bends over laughing, tickled by the awkward ‘Your pal’ Steve tacked on at the end of the letter. It must not be the reaction Shuri was expecting, because she’s at his side immediately and hovering over him like a concerned mother bird. 

“Are you okay? Does anything feel strange? Do you need help clarifying the note?” she asks in rapid successions, all to which Bucky shakes his head. 

“No—no I’m good. It’s just—this.” He points at the bottom with his good hand. “He could’ve just written ‘Steve’. ‘Your pal’ sounds cheesy.” 

Bucky expects Shuri to laugh along with him, but instead her eyes soften. She ducks her head as she takes his good arm and begins to wind some sort of cloth around it. “It sounds silly—but maybe he just wanted to remind you. You know,” she glances up at Bucky as she says, quieter, “Just in case you forgot.” 

The pie is good—more than good. Bucky hasn’t eaten many pies in his life, but this one surely takes the cake (no pun intended). He may be biased, though. Steve could have left him a jar of dust and he’d still say it was the best thing he’d ever eaten. 

Bucky misses Steve, and is reluctant to go back under. But little does he know it’s far from the last of Steve’s post-it notes he’ll be receiving.

---