AMERICA'S POV

"This such a weird place to meet," I say, staring up at the Sanctum Sanctorum with apprehension. It's been a week since the funeral, and we're getting together to decide the future of the Avengers. 

Steve shrugs. "Thanos blew apart the compound and we don't own Avengers Tower anymore. None of our apartments are big enough, Wakanda's too far, and Clint said no to using his farm. This was it."

"I guess." Magic is something I never really wrapped my head around. Science is weird enough. I'm weird enough. "Nothing's going to be the same, is it?"

"No. And that's a good thing." He smiles at me and we walk into the foyer together. Most of the team already occupies the space. Bucky, Sam, and Anna walk over to us.

"This is crazy, isn't it?" Anna asks, motioning to the random red cloak that's been floating around shaking hands.

Steve gives his sister a hug. "I've seen weirder than a flying cloak."

"At this point, haven't we all?" I joke. 

"You ready for this?" Sam asks me. He alone knows what we're going to do today, and he doesn't even know all of it.

I nod. "So ready."

Somehow, Pietro ends up as the last one here, but it doesn't really surprise me. He's all windswept and properly apologetic when he dashes in, claiming that one of his classes ran late, but it's a Monday morning. He's not fooling anyone.

Stephen leads us all upstairs to a long table. He sits at one end, and Fury sits at the other. Fury leans back and his chair and starts the meeting. "So, we are obviously all here today to discuss the future of the Avengers. Many of our original goals have been accomplished and many of our original leaders aren't here anymore. What anyone decides to do today is up to them."

A momentary silence sweeps around the room.

Carol Danvers, who sits at Fury's immediate right, answers first. "I'm not staying on Earth, Fury. I'm sorry, but they need me up there."

"Yeah, same," Peter Quill says. He points to his ragtag gang and they all nod in agreement.

Thor lifts a bottle of beer. I don't know where it came from. "And I'm hitching a ride with them."

"I'm going to work in SHIELD's science department again," Bruce says.

Pietro kicks his feet up on the table until Stephen shoots him a glare. "I'll stay on the team."

"Me too," Wanda says quietly. She glances at her lap, then at Stephen. "I need to talk to you. Please?" His eyebrows raise, but he stands and beckons her out of the room to speak in the hall. I wonder what she wants to know.

"Bucky, Anna and I are going after Zemo," Sam says, his eyes sharp with determination. "We got a lead the other day. I think we're all still staying on the team, though." The Barnes both nod.

Fury fixes his eye on Steve. "And you, Captain? Will you be joining them?"

Under the table, I take my husband's hand. He takes a deep breath and says, "Actually, no."

"No?" Fury asks.

I shake my head. "No. We're taking a step back."

Shock ripples around the table in waves. We expected that, though. The only person we told about this was Sam. I'm sure the same thought has crossed all of their minds: what is the Avengers without Captain America? Luckily, we have a solution for that problem, too. 

"What's your plan, then?" Fury asks us evenly. I let Steve do the talking for now. Pietro grins at me.

"We found a flat in downtown Brooklyn, close to where I grew up." He, Buck, and Anna share a nostalgic smile at this. "We're moving in next week, and except for emergencies, we really want SHIELD to leave us alone for a while."

Clint winks at me from across the table. I think he gets our choice more than anyone. "Good for you guys."

"Thanks," I say. Wanda and Stephen walk back in, her with a big smile on her face.

"What'd I miss?" She asks, taking her seat next to Pietro.

"Cap and America are pulling a Clint," Bruce chuckles. She lights up even more.

"That's amazing!"

I lean over towards Steve as the meeting continues to whisper, "That went well."

*

We walk out of the meeting later with Wanda and Sam. Strolling down the sidewalk, one of my hands stays in my pocket and the other is in Steve's. I feel so free now. I'm not tied down to anything. My life is finally mine.

"Good move in there," Sam says, pointing to the building behind us. "Somehow we're just going to have to get on without Captain America and Miss Momentum."

"Oh, yeah, that's right," Steve says, stopping in front of our car. "The shield's in the trunk. Do you want it?"

Sam's eyes widen, and I can't stop smiling. I know he didn't see this coming. He never would have. Sam is too humble about himself to ever imagine something more.

"I- I don't think I can be Captain America," he stutters, still surprised.

I pull the shield out. "We're not saying you have to be. We just thought you might find it useful, especially with your plans." Nudging him, I say, "What do you think?"

He takes the shield from me, pride shining all over his face. "I'll do my best. Thank you."

"That's why it's yours," Steve says, shaking his hand. 

Sam chuckles. "I've got to go throw this in my car before people start looking at me weird. See you guys around?"

"Definitely." I give him a hug, and he waves before walking down the sidewalk to his car. I turn to Wanda, who's smiling softly at our exchange. She's been quieter in this last week, more contemplative. I know Vision's death hit her hard. "You want to come for dinner? We have moving boxes everywhere, but there's still a table and an oven that I'm not allowed to use."

Steve ruffles my hair and I smack him away. "That's right you aren't. No burning down the apartment the last week we have it."

"Thanks, but I'm going to head back inside," she says, choosing her words carefully. "I'm going to stay in the Sanctum for a while. I asked Stephen about it today. He's going to teach me more aspects of my powers."

"Wanda, that's great!" I say. "I'm proud of you. I really am."

She smiles up at me. "Thanks, Val." She hugs me tightly before running back to the Sanctum Sanctorum. 

"Think she'll be all right?" I ask Steve, who laughs. 

"She'll be fine, America. Have you seen what she can do?"

I shove him. "Shut up and get in the car." He gets in the driver's seat because apparently disintegrating for five years isn't a valid excuse for an expired license, or so says the DMV. "Broadway?"

"Whatever you want, doll."

I queue up Phantom of the Opera, prepared to hit the wrong notes all by myself, but Steve joins in. And he sounds way better than me, too, but I'm not focused on that. 

"When did you learn that?"

"I had a lot of free time," he explains, an easygoing grin on his face. "By the way, you missed four Star Wars movies."

"I WHAT?"

"Want to know who dies?"

"Steven Grant Rogers, I swear-"

He's laughing so hard that I'm surprised he's still driving in the right lane. "What're you going to do to me?"

"I'll never kiss you again."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, doll." He winks, and I fake groan. "We'll marathon tonight, okay? Dig out the DVDs from the moving boxes."

"You're the best."

"I know."

"Don't push it."