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    Summary

    It’s a fear they’ve all been left with, this idea of a second wave. Thanos as the boogeyman in the night, deciding fifty wasn’t enough and now he’s coming back for seventy-five, and it still makes Natasha roll out of bed to see for herself. Steve’s there in the bathroom, though, right where he should be, even if the adrenaline singing through her blood doesn’t register it right away. There’s a towel knotted around his waist, hair slicked back and shoulders beaded with water, and he’s staring at himself in the mirror, a little forlorn.

    “Steve,” she says, quietly.

    He doesn’t turn to look at her. “I was thinking it’s time to kill the beard.”

     

    [Blame this on the Avengers: Endgame trailer.]

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