Work Text:
NYT Op-Ed: Bittersweet Endings and a Commentary on Grief
By Renegade
Renegade has opted not to use her legal name for this opinion piece.
Endings aren’t always sad. Sometimes, they’re happy, like leaving your hometown in the dust after years of wanting to get out. Sometimes they leave you feeling anger, like seeing your best friend walk out on you after telling them something deeply personal that they told you they couldn’t support. They can be bittersweet, tinged with regret for the things you wish you had said and the things you did. Like someone you love, walking away and you doing nothing to stop them, because you know. You know that no matter what you say, their choice will be the same.
There is no doubt that in the wake of Thanos, we all suffered. But there were silver linings of hope in all of that despair. When the Avengers brought home the half of the universe that had been snapped away, I wasn’t sure what to expect. I wasn’t sure what to feel. We lost good people in that. Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff are forever heroes for what they did.
Grief is a funny thing. And it feels like I’ve been on that rollercoaster for years, rather than just one. In some ways, I suppose I have, all things considered. In the midst of all the celebrations, all the confusion, the only thing I could feel was a profound loss. To lose so much in a short span of time after everything that happened...it was like a knife to the heart that only plunged deeper. One to sacrifice, one to time, and me, left picking up the pieces. It was complicated, loving them, but it was easy. You’d think it couldn’t work, a man out of time, a former Russian assassin, and me, the girl with the ability to manipulate the elements. But it did. Until it didn’t.
I’m not going to tell you all the details of our relationship. Only that it was real. It was raw. And it still hurts. I go to bed thinking she’ll walk off a jet into the room to join us, only to remember, he’s gone too, and that bed is too big for one person. His shield bequeathed to Sam, the only person I could imagine wielding it. We used to talk about the future. And it was beautiful. But Thanos changed things. Changed us. Suddenly that future wasn’t so bright.
They say time heals. But somedays it doesn’t feel like it. Some days I feel like I’m living on repeat. Clint telling us Tasha wasn’t coming home. Bucky breaking the news to me that Steve wasn’t coming back either. I can’t tell you what happened to Steve Rogers, it’s classified, you know? But it hurt. It hurt a hell of a lot more than I could have ever imagined.
I’d like to say I’m doing better, that I’ve started to move on. Truth is, I’m not sure I ever will move on completely. But maybe my broken pieces fit someone else’s broken pieces. Maybe they don’t create the picture we expected, but it’s a beautiful one nonetheless. We’re all a little broken sometimes.
Endings aren’t always sad, but they create new beginnings, new chances, new hope. My story didn’t end with Natasha and Steve. It only just began.
Renegade is an Avenger, based out of Upstate New York. This is her first piece for the New York Times.
You saw the article on Bucky’s phone as you woke up, head on his chest. Sam was still fast asleep. A rare lazy day for the three of you. Bucky glanced down as he noted the change in your breathing, before placing a light kiss on your forehead.
“What’d you think?” you murmured as you yawned.
“You did good,” he said, his voice low. Sam started to stir, his arm loosening from where it was positioned around your waist. Moments later, a soft kiss placed on your shoulder.
“Too early, back to sleep,” he said.
“It’s nearly noon,” you said.
“Too early,” he protested, drawing a laugh from you and Bucky. It had taken time to get there. Things were still so new, the wounds from the past year only just starting to scar. Steve leaving had affected the three of you to varying degrees. Losing Natasha had nearly destroyed you on top of that. Slowly, you were piecing yourselves back together, and that sad ending led to a bittersweet beginning. You smiled as you laid in bed, counting yourself lucky for having a second chance at a once in a lifetime kind of thing.