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The door was just as he remembered it.
Plain, brown, with that chip in the upper right corner that let in more draft than it should have, the wide dent in the brass knob right above the keyhole.
He couldn’t move. He could only stare at the thing, memories of crossing that threshold thousands of times burning through him like the serum in his veins.
He was sure she’d be home by now. Her schedule was seared onto his brainstem, his life still revolving around it, around her, like a measly satellite orbiting the sun. He just couldn’t move, couldn’t bridge the few feet across the landing and knock on that all too familiar slab of wood.
“Excuse me, sir. You’re blocking the stairway.”
The soft, stern request broke through his thoughts, ringing above the honking of city traffic, the snap of clothes drying on the web of lines crisscrossing between buildings.
It was instant, the way his body reacted to her voice. His shoulders dropped, his muscles loosened, his heart beat to the rhythm of the song she used to sing him to sleep with. Steve turned slowly, his brain desperately trying to keep up with reality, what was real and what could only be a figment of his dreams.
But when he finally saw her, he knew with every fiber of his being that she was real. There was no denying the soft lines of her face, though there was a wrinkle on her brow, her lips hardened into that telltale line that always told him he was in trouble. That crisp, white linen blouse and the matching skirt, a little wrinkled now after a shift at the ward, her nurse’s cap already retired from her dusty blond hair, folded neatly in her hand for the evening.
And those blue, blue eyes, the very same shade he had to bear in the mirror every single day he spent without her.
“Sir…”
He could see her expression change from confusion, to recognition, to denial, to disbelief, her mouth opening but producing no words. She used to always tell him he’d catch flies that way. He should have reminded her then, but for a long moment, all either of them could do was stare, two lifetimes converging violently in the tepid air around them.
He took a sharp breath, the prickling just beginning in his nose, the edges of his vision just starting to blur. His voice was raspy and trembling and childish when he finally spoke.
“Hi, Ma.”
***
Most people counted the number of funerals they’ve had to attend in their lives; Steve counted the ones he never got the chance to.
The tally always began with his father, gone before he even made it into the world. Bucky was next, because despite how things had turned out, that wasn’t the kind of grief he could ever truly shake off. Dugan, Jones, Morita, Falsworth, Dernier; all names etched onto stone epitaphs and in his memory forever. Howard, and the Maria he never got to meet. It was a wretched miracle he even made it to Peggy’s.
And while he counted those he never truly got to mourn, he couldn’t help but think he should have thought more about those he would. Because somehow, he never thought he’d be standing here, on a dock next to a lake, watching two wreaths float out across the water with grace, one donned with an arc reactor, the other with a red ribbon that didn’t quite match the shade he had grown accustomed to all those years ago.
It should have been him.
He thought he would have been the first to go; he should have been. When he had woken up from the ice, it was branded as a second chance at life, a resurrection of fate that allowed Captain America to once again fight the powers of evil for the world. But for him, it always felt like a mistake, like he was perpetually dancing around his own pyre, the weight of two gold coins keeping his eyelids heavy. Him going first…it would have made more sense than this. It would have made more sense than him standing here, while they were reduced to floating flower arrangements, headed who knows where. But the world wasn’t done with him yet, the universe pulling string after string to keep him indebted to life.
And he wondered why. He spent countless nights staring up at the ceiling, begging for an answer to the question that punctuated his existence in this century. Why? Because there surely had to be some grand scheme, some grandiose plan he knew nothing about because if not, why? Why all of the trouble, all of this pain, all of this loss? All for what? He wanted to shout it into the sky, scream it to the edges of the galaxy until he got an answer, because this, watching those two wreaths float away, made no sense at all.
A hand slipping into his own broke Steve out of his thoughts, the pressure of another palm against his grounding him back down to earth. He glanced over, and warmth bloomed through him, the seas calming, the clouds parting, because he was looking at you.
You grinned up at him, despite the sorrow pooling in your eyes, giving his hand a soft squeeze and running your other hand along his forearm. By some miracle, he grinned back at you, but it was no surprise you could pull that out of him, even under these circumstances.
Everything about you was miraculous.
“You okay?” you whispered, barely a sound coming from your lips.
He nodded, and a bit of that smile did reach your eyes, giving his hand one last squeeze before looking out onto the lake again.
But he kept his gaze on you, his eyes following the curve of your nose, the flutter of your lashes, the halo of afternoon light that bathed your features, making you look even more beautiful. He allowed himself a moment to marvel at you, a short reprieve from the crushing grief of the occasion to take in how unbelievable you were.
You were the air that filled his lungs, the charge that beat his heart. You were everything to him, more than you’d ever know, and you were here, and real, and breathing with your hand in his, saying goodbye to two people who had meant so much.
And it was then that Steve realized, with more clarity than he ever had in his overextended life, that he didn’t need an answer. He didn’t need to know why he was here, he didn’t even care, because as long as he existed where you existed, he was good. And that couldn’t be a mistake, it never would be.
The ceremony went on, a few verses from the Good Book being read off, a few words being said about the two souls who had given up everything so that those left behind could gain anything. Steve couldn’t focus too much on that, though, the echo of words Tony had said to him in the past ringing in his ears, back when killer robots had been their biggest problem.
“Maybe I should take a page out of Barton’s book, build Pepper a farm. Hope nothing blows it up.”
Steve chuckled a bit. “The simple life.”
“You’ll get there someday,” the billionaire said, so quick, so sure, with no hesitation. It might as well have been prophecy.
Steve shook his head, a phantom ache rolling through his chest, one he smothered down quickly. “I dunno. Family. Stability. Guy who wanted all that went in the ice 75 years ago. I think someone else came out.”
Tony only nodded with a wry twitch of his lips, as if he knew something Steve didn’t. “You alright?”
He nodded back, looking out towards the compound and its sprawling grounds. “I’m home,” he said simply.
But he hadn’t said that because the compound’s glittering façade and modern design looked particularly homely. He hadn’t even said that because this century felt like home. No, he had only known he was home because he knew you were there, somewhere behind those four pristine walls, even if he hadn’t wanted to fully admit that to himself then. You were his home, his anchor that kept him from slipping too far from shore, and he wasn’t planning on letting you go anytime soon.
That was the thought that kept repeating itself back to him as everyone made their way off the dock, the air still heavy with grief, your hand still rooted firmly in his. It was the thought that ran through him until he came grinding to a halt, you stumbling a bit at the sudden stop, someone knocking into his back with a thud and a startled apology
You frowned up at him, a mixture of concern and confusion mingling across your face and in your voice. “Steve?”
He was crazy.
He was a crazy son of a bitch, had been called one enough times that it was practically his name.
But he couldn’t be this crazy.
Could he?
“Steve, sweetheart, we’re kind of blocking traffic,” you said, throwing an apologetic glance over your shoulder, gently tugging at his hand to propel him forward off the dock and onto land.
But he was a crazy son of a bitch, recklessness surging through him as he stepped in front of you, his hands firmly at your waist, dropping to one knee.
“Marry me.”
You blinked at him once. Then twice. Then three times.
“What?”
“Marry me,” Steve repeated unsteadily, holding onto you a little tighter because he was sure he was about to float away, or dissolve into the lake, or burst into flames. “Please.”
“Steve—”
“I was cold,” he said, the words spilling out of him with no rhyme or reason. “I was so cold, it burned, right down to my bones. That was the last thing I remembered before they woke me up. I was so cold, and it didn’t go away. That feeling, that burning, it followed me everywhere. I was so damn cold, and numb and lost for so long. And then you found me.”
His voice wobbled dangerously, his throat threatening to close around the words he wanted to let out, but he kept his eyes on you, your gaze giving him all he needed to keep going.
“I’ll never forget that day,” he continued with a watery chuckle. “You marched right up to me in that gym and had no problem letting me know I was hogging your bag. And when you looked at me—” he broke off, too much emotion tying up his tongue, and you laid your hands over his on your waist, grounding him with light pressure from your fingertips. “When you looked at me, it was the first time I felt like I actually had blood running through me instead of ice. I love you. I love you more than I can explain, and I don’t want another day to go by where you don’t know that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Every last second I have left in this world, every last one of them belongs to you. So, marry me. Please. Make me the happiest man in the universe and marry me.”
Time stood still, the rest of the world melting away until it was just you and him, your gaze boring into his, straight down to his core.
“You’re insane,” you whispered, tears beginning to gather at the edges of your eyelids.
“I know,” he said, letting out another shaky chuckle.
“We’re at a funeral.”
“I know,” he said again, grabbing both your hands into his. “Tony and Nat were always telling me to get a life. I think they always knew that meant you.”
You let out a sound that was somewhere between a laugh and a sob, your grip tightening around his. You just looked at him for a long moment, scanning his face for something he’d never know, his heart and lungs ready to give out entirely. But then you nodded slowly, a radiant smile breaking over your face as tears spilled down your cheeks.
“Yes.”
An unlawful amount of joy hit him then, threatening to knock him down on his back, though he would have fallen happily and willingly. “Yeah?”
“Yes,” you nodded, your smile getting even wider. “Yes, I’ll marry you, Steve.”
And that was all he needed to hear. He scooped you up into his arms in one swoop, twirling you around as your laughter lightened the air, the sound gracing the space between the trees and wafting up to the clouds. It was the best sound he ever heard.
It wasn’t until he set you down again that he remembered where he was, the sound of cheers and applause reminding him that you weren’t the only two around.
“’Bout time, Cap,” Rhodey called out from behind you, a smug grin on his face.
Steve shot him a look, poised to respond with something smart, when his gaze landed on Pepper, her eyes shining with unshed tears, one hand over her mouth, the other grasping onto her daughter’s shoulder. His heart splintered for the thousandth time that day, shame slithering up his spine at the sight of the two of them, a wife and a child who had just lost their other third.
“Pep…” he said quietly, taking a step towards her. “I’m so sorr—”
“No,” she said, waving away his words, her hand moving to reveal a grin across her lips. “Don’t you dare apologize. He would have loved this. The drama of it all.” She chuckled, rolling her eyes a little before giving him and you an earnest look. “Besides, Rhodey’s right. It took you long enough.”
Steve flushed and you laughed again, patting him consolingly on the chest before gathering Pepper in for a warm hug.
“Can I come to your wedding?”
Morgan’s tiny voice sounded above everything, half of her hidden behind her mother’s leg as she peered up at Steve, biting at one of her nails.
He bent down to her level, making sure his expression was as serious as possible, his ‘no cap’ face as Sam liked to call it, so that she knew his next words were true. “Morgan, I promise. Without you, there would be no wedding.”
And for the first time that day, Morgan’s face lit up with a smile, the spitting image of her father’s, a sweet giggle bubbling out of her. She launched into his arms, and he happily obliged, lifting her up high and laughing right along with her.
Everyone had smiles on their faces. The pain wasn’t gone, grief still blanketing the occasion. But the sun was still shining bright, and the birds were singing just as loud and in harmony.
And you had said yes.
***
“Don’t do anything stupid ‘till I get back.”
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.”
“I don’t know why you two say that to each other when you know you’ll both do extremely stupid things,” you told the two super-soldiers, rolling your eyes good-naturedly.
Bucky and Steve both chuckled, clapping each other on the back before Steve came to stand in front of you, dressed in his star-spangled suit, the case containing the keys to the universe in his hand. He grinned at you mischievously, setting the case down and drawing you into his arms. You relented to him, though there was that all too familiar dread swirling in your stomach, dread that made you want to take him and run, stones be damned.
“You better come back to me,” you told him, because that’s what you always told him when before he left for a mission, the promise that made each risk a fraction more bearable.
He reached up and cupped your face in his hand, his thumb brushing over your cheek delicately. “If I do, will you marry me?”
You groaned, swatting him away despite the smile inching onto your face. For the past week, Steve had never missed an opportunity to ask you to marry him again and again, just to hear you say yes again and again.
“Get out of here with that,” you told him, glaring at him playfully. You sobered up though, your chest feeling tight and twisted. “Be careful,” you added quietly.
Steve stepped closer to you again, his hand returning to your face, his gaze flicking over your lips. He knew better than to go in for a kiss, though; that was another pre-mission caveat, he’d get a kiss once he was back safe in your arms, an incentive to make it back in one piece.
“Say it,” he pleaded, a stupidly handsome smile lighting up his features, a spark dancing through his endless blues. “Please. To keep me going.”
You rolled your eyes again, but you were all too ready to indulge him. “Yes, Steve, I will be your wife for the rest of my days. Now get out of here.”
The elation on his face was almost made the worry worth it, and you watched achingly as he stepped up on the platform, the Quantum suit clicking over him swiftly as he picked up Mjolnir with ease.
“How long is this gonna take?” Sam asked, his demeanor just as sober as yours as he looked at his friend.
“For him, as long as he needs,” Bruce said from the controls, flipping a few switches. “For us, five seconds. Ready, Cap?”
“You bet,” Steve answered assuredly, nodding towards Bruce and flashing you a wink before his helmet clicked over his head.
“Okay, going Quantum in three, two, one…” Bruce counted down, and your heart was in your throat as you watched the love of your life disappear into the unknown. But Bruce started counting down again just as quickly. “And returning in five, four, three, two, one…”
But Steve didn’t reappear.
There was a moment of silence as the four of you stared at the empty platform, and your knees began to turn to jelly, your stomach churning violently.
“Where is he?” Sam asked tightly, frowning over at Bruce.
“I don’t know, he blew right past his timestamp,” he replied frantically, his green complexion somehow turning greener. “He should be here.”
Sam glanced at you briefly, his jaw tightening a little, and your whole world began crumbling down. “Well, get him back,” he demanded.
“I’m trying!”
“Get him the hell back!”
“I said I’m—”
“Guys,” Bucky called out softly. Your gaze snapped over to him, and there was a misplaced, soft grin on his face as he looked on at some point behind you. He looked at you, and his grin widened, nodding for you to follow his line of sight. You did, turning slowly to face the lake, and you let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.
You didn’t hesitate for a second longer, marching right up to the tall blond looking out onto the lake, just like you did all those years ago.
“You wanna explain your little trick, Rogers?” you said sharply, your heart still beating wildly. “You scared the daylights out of me, you ass—”
But your scolding was halted by the look on his face when he turned to you. You couldn’t really explain it, but he looked changed, different in a way you couldn’t quite place. The lines of his face were softer, and there was a glow to him, a peace you realized you’d never seen on him before. It rendered you speechless.
“I’m sorry. I had to make a stop on the way back,” he said softly, warmth spreading through you at the way he was looking at you. He held out his hand, an invitation, and you accepted it, taking it in both of yours and stepping closer to him until your chests practically touched.
“Do you remember our first date? When we rented that rowboat at Central Park?” he asked, his voice wistful and full of nostalgia. He smiled when you nodded, his arm snaking around your waist and pulling you closer to him. “Do you remember what I told you?”
You returned his smile, any traces of ire long gone. “Yes. You told me you loved me.”
He grew a little bashful at that, always claiming the admission had been premature. But the two of you had spent too long dancing around it by then, and you had no trouble returning the sentiment. “Do you remember anything else?”
You thought back for a moment. “You said you wished you could tell your Ma about me,” you told him, his words burning bright in your mind. You knew how much his mother meant to him, and it was something you wouldn’t allow yourself to forget. You were about to ask why he was asking you all this, when you saw the way his face bloomed at the mention of Sarah Rogers, and it all hit you then, the glow about him, his layover on his way back to this present, his line of questioning.
You gasped. “Steve, did you…?”
He stepped a little ways back, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a folded piece of paper.
“She gave me a note to give you,” he explained, holding it out to you. “I don’t know what it says, she explicitly told me it was for your eyes only,” he added, mirth swimming over his every syllable.
You stared at it for a moment, and it almost felt like he was offering you a relic that belonged in a museum, a message that literally transcended time and space. You took it from him gingerly, unfolding it slowly as if it might dissolve in your hand. You took a sharp breath when you saw her perfect and pristine cursive.
Thank you for bringing him home.
It was simple, to the point, but the weight of her blessing broke you, your face crumpling and tears making their way down your cheeks and neck.
“She gave me something else, too,” Steve said, reaching into his pocket again. “She always told me she lost it at the ward, but now I know the truth…”
You wiped at your eyes enough to see him get down on one knee, a simple gold band held up between his thumb and forefinger. It was almost too much for you to bear.
“Sweetheart, my love, my heart,” he said, his eyes gleaming, his voice breaking just a bit. “Will you—”
“Steven Grant Rogers, if you ask me to marry you one more time, I’ll throw you into the lake for the fish to get you.”
He was poised to laugh, but you didn’t give him the chance, diving into his arms and placing your lips over his, pouring every ounce of you into him, every part of you latching onto every part of him.
There was no doubt that he had brought you home, too.