➢𝗦𝗧𝗜𝗟𝗟 𝗧𝗥𝗬𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗧𝗢 𝗕𝗘 𝗕𝗘𝗧𝗧𝗘𝗥➢

『 But now take me home
Take me home where I belong
I got no other place to go
Now take me home 』
―𝘈𝘶𝘳𝘰𝘳𝘢, 𝘙𝘶𝘯𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺

⟶𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 17: 𝑺𝒉𝒆 𝑪𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝑯𝒐𝒎𝒆⟵

❝... Dani?❞

-𝐎𝐂𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝐑𝐃, 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑-

𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘, 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐘𝐎𝐑𝐊

New York City is nearly abandoned. Boats gathered around a dock have been discarded. A baseball stadium previously echoing with loud screams currently presents no life whatsoever. That life is gone.

Half of it is still alive.

The Decimation of the planet Earth has proven to be devastating, individuals that were left un-snapped clearly not coping well. Having adjusted to life... well.

They try.

Inside an eerie yet again abandoned cafeteria, meets a local therapy group of survivors.

One has the floor to speak about his struggles, "So I, uh... went on a date the other day."

"It's the first time in five years, you know?" He continues, "I'm sitting there at dinner... I didn't even know what to talk about."

Adjacent to the man, the leader of the session, Steve Rogers, asks him intuitively, "What did you talk about?"

"Eh, same old crap." The man explains, "How things have changed. My job, his job... how much we miss the Mets. And then things got quiet."

A woman from across nods in an understanding way, a reflexive smile vanishing as the man admits, "He cried as they were serving the salads."

"What about you?" Another man questions him.

He nods then confirms, "I cried...  just before dessert. But, I'm seeing him again tomorrow, so..."

Captain America steps in, words of encouragement falling off his tongue in an easy manner, "That's great. You did the hardest part. You took the jump, you didn't know where you were gonna come down."

"And that's it," He insists, blonde head turning to face the group of seven other individuals―one of them crying, "That's those little... brave baby steps we have to take. To try and become whole again, try and find purpose."

Steve licks his lips before saying wholeheartedly, and still with so much meaning, today, "I went in the ice in '45 right after I met the love of my life."

"Woke up 70 years later."

He shakes his head before asserting, "You gotta move on." 

"Gotta move on."

He continues with good intentions, "And... that can be through forming relationships with other people. Finding hope in bonds,"

The Captain's face twists up all of a sudden, clearly both toggling and being reminded of things himself, and rather than show his emotions openly, Steve is brave.

He is rigid, and instills the right amount of faith into others, dominantly, "The world is in our hands. It's left to us, guys. And we gotta do something with it."

"Otherwise..." He emits, wisely, "Thanos should've killed all of us."

Life after the Decimation was tough, downright... for many if not everyone anywhere.

For individuals whose loved ones were victims of the Mad Titan's Snap, Captain America surely can sympathize with their pain and grief.

Wives who lost their husbands, husbands who lost their wives, friends, siblings, aunts or uncles... and... children.

For Steve, this is something he can heavily relate to, and not because he physically lost someone in that way, no, that person is still alive. She is out there somewhere or other, pursuing her own life, because of what he did. What they did. 

The bottom line is, that there is an empty void settling into the man's stomach, un-fillable by any and all words of the belief that he himself, as a make-shift therapy counselor, can convince to be good. To be true.

For no lock could ever replace the one she held in his heart.

Yes, Steve Rogers is still suffering from the ties he had from losing a child, even if only adopted... and it's harbored deeply inside him for a while. Hardened him.

For a while, this had gone on, because the man had already lost her once before, during a civil war. 

And then when the end of the world fell upon them she was up and gone again.

Mistakes were made, resentment for him not being 'there'... and to this, Captain America experiences a lot of guilt.

Guilt initially... but now, mostly, depression. Steve is depressed.

Where do we go, now that they're gone? A sign in the cafeteria reads.

Where does he go? Now that she's gone.

❀❀❀

Dimmed lights reflect onto the almost vacant Avengers Compound, it being that way ever since the team returned from their attempt to reverse the Snap five years ago.

One member out of all stayed, and she is the only woman. 

The glue that always held the original six together, and the one who most certainly... is depressed.

Inside the new Avengers Facility, Natasha Romanoff, with long natural red hair that bleeds into her blonde streaks, cuts apart a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She leaves the meal on a plate whilst traveling back over to Rocket Raccoon as he talks about his status from a holographic viewpoint.

"Yeah, we boarded that highly-suspect warship Danvers pinged."

A translucent Nebula bites out, "It was an infectious garbage scowl."

"So thanks for the hot tip." 

Rocket adds on from next to her, and from another location, Carol smiles, "Well, you were closer."

"Yeah. And now we smell like garbage!"

Natasha cuts in, "You get a reading on those tremors?"

Okoye from Wakanda answers, "'Twas a mild subduction under the African plate."

"Do we have a visual?" Black Widow questions, arms pressed into her office table, looking serious, "How are we handling it?"

All from in the hollow channel tilt their heads down, "Nat, it's an earthquake under the ocean."

"We handle it by not handling it."

Natasha's eyes look tired, though she moves on.

"Carol, are we seeing you here next month?"

The now short blonde-haired female straightens when explaining, "Not likely."

"What? You gonna get another haircut?" the Raccoon dryly teases.

Captain Marvel doesn't appreciate it, "Listen, fur-face. I'm covering a lot of territory."

"The things that are happening on Earth are happening everywhere, on thousands of planets."

Rocket doesn't have a witty response, and instead murmurs softly, "All right, all right, that's a good point. That's a good point."

"So, you might not see me for a long time," Carol finishes with a lowered lip and brow, before bringing those features up again in the necessity, "I wanted to mention the incredible energy source that inserted itself into space temporarily. It happened a few weeks ago."

Something flickers in Natasha's expression as she glances back up, green eyes still sorely tired, though Rhodey seems like he knows more, "I heard about that, too. It was all over. Info spread like wildfire."

"Well, do we have a location?" Black Widow pipes up, pretentiously busying herself with looking down at the details of the ground.

War Machine replies straight-toned, "London, United Kingdom."

Breath gets stuck in the back of Natasha's throat, and the line on her end is silent after that. She doesn't make a sound. She knows exactly who is responsible.

A calculated Carol starts to speak up.

"I was going to ask if it was―"

"All right," Natasha intercepts her trail-off, searching for something else to cover the space, "Uh, well... this channel is always active. So, if anything goes sideways... anyone's making trouble where they shouldn't... comes through me."

The remaining Avengers and Guardians chorus a nod, an assent.

"Kulungile." Okay.

"Okay."

"All right." Natasha finishes, and one by one they leave.

"Good luck," Carol says to Rhodes.

The redheaded woman is beyond exhausted by this point, the heavy sigh erupting from her chest and lungs convincing her to go sit down at her desk. She pulls the sandwich she had made towards her and is about to release... when noticing one still active.

"Where are you?" She asks Rhodey.

"Mexico." He says, "The Federales found a room full of bodies. Looks like a bunch of cartel guys. Never even had the chance to get their guns off."

Natasha is stiff as she leans back ever so slightly, hands folded into her lap, and she shrugs it off, "It's probably a rival gang."

Rhodey corrects her, "Except it isn't."

Her eyes grow watery.

"It's definitely Barton."

The mention of Clint causes Natasha to tear up, though War Machine continues, "What he's done here, what he's been doing for the last few years... I mean, the scene that he left..."

"I gotta tell you, there's a part of me that doesn't even wanna find him."

Sadness develops over the Black Widow, who is fatigued, and there isn't much she can do to stop the wetting of her eyelids as she eats her sandwich, "Will you find out where he's going next?"

"Nat?" Rhodes' plea is slow.

Hers isn't, "Please."

"Okay." The dark-skinned man agrees, reluctantly, and then promptly leaves the channel, now leaving the redheaded woman alone.

Alone in her thoughts, alone in her grief, Natasha Romanoff lifts her hands up to her face and cries miserably as she is unable to contain the sorrow she had been trying to hold back. 

Someone else, too... does that.

"You know, I'd offer to cook you dinner, but, you seem pretty miserable already." Steve Rogers appears from the side of the room, leaning over a bookcase.

His sarcastic words do just the right magic in bringing a very small, brief, but genuine smile onto Natasha's lips. He was one of the only ones who could do so.

"You here to do your laundry?" She asks him.

"And to see a friend." He replies honestly, brown jacket and keys in his hand.

The Black Widow folds her hands again, leaning back and casting her green eyes on him, "Clearly, your friend is fine."

He wears a dark top, fiddling with his fingers, "You know I saw a pod of whales when I was coming up on the bridge."

"In the Hudson?" Natasha entertains his optimism and allows him to have it.

"There's fewer ships, cleaner waters..."

"You know," she adjusts in her seat, her gaze directed up to the ceiling as a tear slips out her right eye, "If you're about to tell me to look on the bright side... um, I'm about to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich."

His chuckle is also genuine, and earnest. 

"Sorry. Force of habit."

Steve walks over to sit in the chair across from one of his closest friends, slinging his jacket over the back and tossing his keys onto the table, declining the sandwich Natasha offers him.

He crosses his bigger arms and also leans back into the chair, voice ever-deepening when beginning to relay, "You know, I keep telling everybody they should move on and... grow. Some do. But not us."

Natasha persists, "If I move on, who does this?"

Only to get a soft pair of furrowed brows from Steve in response, "Maybe it doesn't need to be done."

Deep in her thoughts temporarily, the Black Widow thinks about her past, as an ex-assassin, as a killer. She's got red in her ledger.

"I used to have nothing."

"And then I got this. This job... this family. And I was," her voice goes out, Steve listening intently as his expression is gentle, "I was better because of it."

Natasha nods as her eyes glisten with tears, "And even though... they're gone... I'm still trying to be better."

Captain America nods in understanding, before providing a witty and insightful reply―a classic of his, "I think we both need to get a life."

Black Widow smiles through remaining tears, "You first." 

Their somewhat uplifting talk ends, and then, that is when Natasha can sense the instant shift in her friend's demeanor. Steve's lip pulls shut as he interlocks his sweater-wearing arms even tighter, sighing heavily.

She asks him, visibly concerned, "How are you?"

He emits another sigh, "I... I don't really know how to answer that, to be honest."

Steve leans back and curls his mouth, arms still crossed as he starts to shake his head, "It's like... even after all this time, with nothing..." 

He reveals tiredly, both physically and emotionally, "I can't stop thinking about her."

Silence overlaps the room as the truth finally spills out, the truth about Dani.

Natasha's features are at first, solemn, a bit of heartbreak present as the former adopted and surrogate father confesses his desire... to see his daughter again.

"What she looks like, how much she's grown, who she's become... I'll just never get to know because of what happened."

He seems to be in so much pain merely thinking about it, still, thinking about the day Dani left five years ago.

The day Dani Rockland walked out of their lives, ran away. And they were the reason for it.

Another round of tears helplessly sprout from the woman's eyes as she internalizes this, she understands how he feels―evidently being the only one who could.

It was because of their roles in her life, and the great impact she had on theirs.

"You're not alone in that." Natasha tells him, drawing his squinted gaze up to hers, and her voice is shaky when admitting with full-on guilt, "I... we... we could have done better by her. Been better, for Dani."

Her voice reeks with so much regret it makes a significant crack, and Natasha Romanoff here and now insists on what she's believed ever since deciding to conceal, to hide.

The action of being discreet, that she is solely responsible for, that she is vile for, even―evil, "I should have never convinced you to hide things from her."

The heinous talk of herself aids in Steve sensing she is putting the blame on herself―which, she is―and he immediately objects, "Natasha."

She fights back a tear as a sniffle escapes her nose, and Natasha denies―shoulders the blame, "I shouldn't have. I thought she was like me, but she's not. She's just not. And... I'm so glad for that."

It is clear she is becoming vulnerable now, and that trait usually, has never been associated with someone like her. Someone with a name as fearless as the Black Widow.

But here she was now, playing the role of more than just a hero, but a mother, a mother-figure at a point in time... at one time... and Natasha screwed it up. She did... all by herself.

 It is her fault.

Captain America comforts her, "Hey."

Steve reaches out and gently takes her hand from across the table, squeezing it, and very quickly―he's fighting his own tears now, "Nat, this isn't all your fault. It's not."

He expresses to her, a strong desire for her to not shoulder the burden of guilt on her own... because she was not the only one feeling it, she was not the only cause of this.

Steve well experiences, and claims his own role, in the fallout, "If anything, I take as much blame as you do. We're in this together, remember?"

A breathy chuckle whistles through his trembling lips when reminding her, fondly, of fond memories, "'Co-Parents', you and I. We stepped up to be those roles for her."

Natasha speaks again to Steve, with authenticity, about Dani―about all of it, her gratitude, "And I would do anything to be able to do that again."

"Would you?"

She means that... to be able to see Dani again, to be a surrogate mother. To be... a mother, that is by far her most prized and sacred title ever being given the opportunity to hold. Above the Black Widow, above Agent Romanoff... Above being an Avenger, even. 

The role of being a parent, something Natasha thought she would never have, to an exquisite, sweet little girl.

Steve during the brief contemplation, is exposed to the same sentiment: Dani is everything to him.

Why he fights... to end the fight, to protect her. To save her. To love her.

To comfort her, and hold her, no matter who she's become. No matter who he and Natasha have become.

Because at the end of the day, at some point, they were parents. 

A father and mother to a young girl who desperately needed them, who was an orphan, who was not born out of love.

Steve, after a pause to compose himself, inhales ever so slightly to clear the blockage as a result. 

As a result, of his strongly-released emotions on rare occasions―for his daughter. Answering the redhead's question, about would he ever be a father to Dani again, he is firm in his answer, absolute.

"...In a heartbeat."

The Soldier smiles softly as he rubs the pad of his thumb over his friend's hand, both of them shortly laughing at themselves for the messes they appear to be, and then Steve lets go.

Silence envelopes after that, respectively, until Natasha's green eyes... lay upon a figure standing where Steve used to be, by the bookcases. 

Her mouth, thoroughly, gapes open.

No... way.

Steve, refocusing and noticing her open expression, is curious, "Natasha?"

With absolutely no response from Black Widow, leaves Captain America to turn his own head while still sitting down, for confirmation himself.

...And upon realizing who it is, who this is, instantly, he stands up.

His lips are parted, he's shocked, though her name used by him for the first time in years slips off his tongue like silver... so easily, but in shock.

"... Dani?"

There stands across the room, shaking profusely and with long dark hair, is her.

Dani Rockland, who is eighteen years old now, stammering in a similar amount of bewilderment―staggered.

"S-Steve?"

I'll find my way back to you . . .

━━━✰━━━

Gonna try and get another one out before the day ends. . . sorry if it seemed like I was gone I was on vacation but also I kinda wanna stop updating every week? Like I'll update frequently/when I can because I think that's how it's supposed to be. or how authors usually update on here 🤷‍♀️ any who sorry about this cliffhanger, but officially welcome to Avengers: Endgame (Officially) u know . . . the beginning of the end 🤭 next chapter

xoxo, Alessandra (dreamkept)