AMERICA'S POV

"A little to the left... a little more... okay, perfect!"

"Ow!"

"Are you okay?"

"No! You just dropped the couch on my foot, Steven," I groan. "Help me pick this up, come on."

Steve comes to my aid and we manage to haul the new couch off of my toes to where it's supposed to be.

"Better?" He asks playfully.

"Yes. Thank goodness Captain America was here to rescue my poor foot. The very same foot said superhero dropped a couch on. Way to rescue the damsel. A+ effort."

He shrugs, not even defending himself. "Hey, it's been a week. I'm already rusty."

I raise my hand to slap him playfully but he catches it and kisses my knuckles. We've been moving furniture all afternoon and there are still boxes everywhere. Standing in the middle of it all, I find myself loving my husband more than ever.

"So, this is what it's like to be a grown-up," I say.

"Mer, you're thirty-three."

I make a face at him. "You're over one hundred."

"Fair enough," he says, grinning. "I'll order a pizza and we can break for dinner."

"Good. My foot needs time to recover."

"Shut up, doll."

I fake gasp. "Captain! Show some respect to a lady!"

"You guys really are the most throw-up-in-your-mouth-cute couple I know." Bucky stands in the doorway, smirking. Anna walks in behind him. "You both forgot we were coming over to help, didn't you?"

"Maybe," Steve says, grinning. "It's still nice to see you guys. Buck, want to help me with moving some of the bigger stuff?"

"Sure."

The two of them head out to the driveway to unload the van, leaving Anna and me behind in the mostly-finished living room. We begin to unpack the smaller boxes, which are full of decorations and picture frames from over the years. I find the gilded mirror from my dingy apartment in New York. I didn't even know I still had that. It feels like so long ago. Anna holds up a scrapbook.

"What's this?"

I laugh and take it from her. "I'm too sentimental for my own good. Here, look at this."

Inside, it's full of pictures of the countries we visited in those two years. Because even though we were on the run, I loved seeing new places for the first time. Each page is full of at least one photo and the ticket we used to get there. The only exception is Italy, where I left a blank page.

"That's pretty cool," she says. "I've never been to most of these places."

"I still think D.C. was my favorite place I've ever lived," I say, looking around the new place fondly, "but this might top it." The new house is one story, with three bedrooms and a nice backyard. Already I feel at home here.

A playlist alternates from show tunes to classic rock in the background as we work. By nightfall, most of the boxes have been successfully unpacked. We order a few pizzas and joke around all evening. Bucky shows me how to do all of the dances from the forties, claiming that Steve can't instruct because "he's always been a really terrible dancer, America." Steve, of course, takes personal offense to the statement, and an all-out competition ensues, Steve and Anna versus Bucky and me. Anna's good, but I'm terrible, so the teams are pretty even. We end up calling it a tie around eleven at night when half of our competitors say they have to head home.

After showering and changing into more comfortable clothes, I start to wash the dishes at the sink, humming under my breath. I feel Steve's arms snake around my waist, and a smile spreads across my face. "Hi, you."

"Hi to you, too." His head rests on my shoulder as I clean off the plates. "You almost done?"

"Yeah. Only a few more dishes." Faint music plays in the background, the woman's voice filled with love and longing, singing lyrics I can't quite catch. Steve kisses my neck, sending goosebumps all over my body. "Steve, come on. At least let me finish."

"Leave the dishes. We have time. I spent the evening dancing with my sister. I want to dance with you."

Giggling, I let him pull me away from the sink and we begin to sway in time to the music. The only light in the kitchen comes from the cracked refrigerator and the moon in the window. I lay my head on his chest and close my eyes.

"You're not a bad dancer," he murmurs in my ear.

I glance up and whisper, "Neither are you. I think we just fit better together."

He falls silent, his blue eyes going somewhere far away. I can tell that he's remembering the last few years, those years without me, so I place my hand on his cheek and bring his attention back to the present. "I'm here, Steve. I promise."

"I know." He sighs, continuing to dance with me while explaining. "I used to dream about this. After Thanos snapped the first time and you were gone, it took me forever to fall asleep. I wasn't used to having the bed all to myself. Natasha told me she used to get nightmares." He swallows at her name, sadness washing over both of us. "She said they'd keep her up at night. She asked how I handled my own.

"I told her I didn't get nightmares. Not really, anyway. When I dreamed, I dreamed of things like this. Normal things. Going on walks, watching TV, you know. Moving somewhere. Starting a family. Growing old. All of those normal things we'd never do. So I'd just wake up and miss you."

"I'm so sorry," I say, eyes wide with heartbreak. I never wanted him to go through so much pain because of me. I'm not worth that.

He loves you. Steve Rogers loves me more than anything else in the universe, and I'm so grateful that we went through everything we did to get to right here, right now.

"So I know that you're here. I'm just... I'm just scared to wake up and find out that this is all some dream. That we didn't win, that you're not in my arms. Because I told you I'd protect you, Mer, and I didn't. And sometimes I just think-"

"No," I whisper. "Don't do that to yourself. It's all in the past now. I'm not upset with you. If anything, I'm happy you brought us all back. Steve, I'm not going anywhere, I promise. We're going to have our chance at a normal life now, we're going to try to have a family, and we're going to be together."

He buries his head in my neck, and I feel the tears on his cheeks. "I don't think you have any idea how much I love you, Mer."

"If it's even close to how much I love you, then I think you're wrong."

He kisses me softly, his lips still tasting like the wine we drank after dinner. I pull away after a blissful minute, contemplating. He's told me the truth. He deserves it from me. "I get nightmares every night."

"What?" He looks back up at me with concern.

I close my eyes and keep the rhythm in my movements. "Since you brought us all back, I've been having these bad dreams. They're not even of anything, really. Just fading away, and that terrible feeling of my legs getting all week and my heart beating in my chest."

Steve strokes my hair. Without me keeping up with the hair dye, my curls have begun to grow out tipped in their natural red. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks gently.

"Because even if I'm not sleeping well, you are."

"We're a team, doll. We make it through these things together."

I want everything with Steve, and I want everything in the world for him. He's been with me through so much now. I've been shot and I've forgotten who I was, but he's been my constant through everything. He didn't leave when we didn't think I could have kids, and he supported me even though I didn't tell him I lost our child. He didn't move on when I disappeared even though he had every right to get over me. I've messed up so much and he hasn't left my side. Without him, who knows where I'd be today.

As we sway in each others' arms in the dark kitchen, I wonder what exactly it was that a brainwashed assassin who spent years trying to find herself did to deserve such a perfect man, but then I realize something. Maybe I'm enough. Maybe after all of this time, my sins have finally been forgiving.

"I love you, Steve."

"I love you too, Mer."

Hey! Sorry it's been a little while. I hope you enjoy this one. The song above is the one they dance to at the end :) leave comments and please vote! Just curious, anything you'd like to see happen in this book?