Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

[The screen glows gold as Natasha and Steve drive down long open roads, past a blue sign welcoming them to the state of New Jersey in 2014.]

Steve’s face was painted with a bright red blush, disappearing beneath his collar and extending to the tips of his ears. “Oh no.”

Clint leaned forward eagerly, a wicked grin lighting up his face. “Oh, is this from you and Nat’s couples’ trip?”

Natasha rolled her eyes, though she looked slightly flustered, too. “Shut up, Clint, it was a SHIELD mission, not a honeymoon.”

Clint just raised a judgemental eyebrow at the pair. “Yeah, okay, tell that to Steve’s frankly alarming complexion right now.”

Natasha chanced a glance at the Captain, who only flushed deeper under her scrutiny. To Clint’s amazement, Natasha didn’t tease and just turned back to the screen.

On the far side though, in the cover of darkness and the distraction of the glowing screen, Natasha brushed her pinky finger against Steve’s.

His finger twitched, just the slightest moment of awed hesitation, before pressing back into her own.

[Natasha is lounging in the passenger seat, legs kicked up on the dashboard, looking smug and somewhat teasing as she turns to look at Steve in the driver’s seat.]

“You sure look comfy, just be safe, you wouldn’t believe how many injuries happen when people don’t sit properly in cars,” May warned, her years as a nurse shining through.

But after a second, she buried her face in her hands with an embarrassed groan, much to the amusement of Tony and Peter. “Oh my God, I’m so stupid, you’re a literal assassin-”

Natasha let out a gentle laugh, cutting her off warmly. “Thanks, May. I appreciate it anyway.”

May just smiled weakly, as Tony grinned widely at her. “You’re very awkwardly passionate, just like Peter. It’s nice to see it’s genetic.”

The three of them laughed together, a mismatched family unit.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Where does Captain America learn how to steal a car?

“Oh, don’t tell the school boards, they’ll have to find a new face for their PSAs,” Peter muttered cheekily.

Steve just shook his head in despair. “All my mistakes, all my losses and career long failures, but those videos might just take the cake.”

STEVE ROGERS: Nazi Germany.

“Yeah, nevermind, I take it back, that’s the one situation where it’s fine,” Peter conceded.

STEVE ROGERS, CONT’D: (STERNLY) And we’re borrowing, so take your feet off the dash.

“Oh, we’re getting bossy now, are we?” Loki teased.

Steve just gave him a deadpan look. “I’m the Captain. Orders are kind of supposed to be my thing.”

[Natasha’s mouth tugs into an impressed smirk, her eyes lighting up with barely concealed interest at his gently commanding tone. With flair, she obeys, pulling her legs back down while maintaining her amused eye contact.]

Yelena turned wide eyes on her sister, who looked like she was doing her very best to merge with the soft Theatre chairs.

Natasha finally met her questioning look with forced nonchalance. “What?”

Yelena didn’t answer, just gesturing emphatically at the image of Natasha’s intrigued face on the golden screen.

Natasha didn’t fold. “What, I’m being cooperative!”

The snort that Yelena let out came from a place of deep disbelief. “You do not look cooperative, you look like you want to, what is the saying, save a motorcycle and ride a Capt-”

Natasha clapped a hand harshly over her little sister’s mouth, cutting off her lewd statement with a scandalized, “Yelena!”

She just let out a braying laugh, her shoulders shaking with genuine mirth. “What, did America make you a prude? He is hot, I do not even like men but my eyes work, and now they see too much, Natasha.”

An angry red tint was already tinging Natasha’s high cheekbones as she grudgingly nodded. “Maybe, sure, he’s alright. And I’m not a fucking prude. It’s just…I’m not looking at him like anything.”

Yelena pried her hand from her mouth, rubbing at her face harshly with a pointed look. “I think we just saw you have some awakening, or something, I don’t know. I don’t need to know this about my sister, but you know what, good for you.”

Natahsa didn’t dignify her comments with a response.

Privately, though, Yelena felt a small burst of pride and fondness in her chest watching her unshakeable older sister find someone who makes her feel softer, taking control so she can maybe get some peace.

[Silence stretches on for a minute, as Steve’s gaze remains fixed on the road until her voice drags his attention back to the formidable woman to his right.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (RAMBLING, PROBING) Alright, I have a question for you, oh, but you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it-

“When someone starts a conversation like this, you know it’s about to be very bad,” Pietro chimed in.

Vision nodded at his speedy brother-in-law. “Yes, I find that the more words one uses to lead up to a topic, the worse it is.”

STEVE ROGERS: (INTERRUPTING, IMPATIENT) What?

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (AMUSED) Was that your first kiss since 1945?

[Steve looks away from her again, his face falling into an expression crossed between awkward shame and grudging humor.]

STEVE ROGERS: (WRYLY) That bad, huh?

Bucky failed to stifle a shout of laughter. “I’m not gonna lie, Stevie, me personally, I would kill myself.”

Steve rolled his eyes, though he couldn’t hide the pleased scrunch of his nose at the familiar nickname. “Well, that’s not saying much, you’d kill yourself for less.”

Bucky shrugged at their shared sense of dark humor, before Steve continued, “Besides, I remember well how you were when we were growing up; all the dames throwing themselves at your feet. I’m pretty sure you only got glowing reviews.”

A smug grin crosses Bucky’s face. “You’re damn right I did.”

Sam scoffed next to him, and Bucky rounded on him with an outraged expression of exaggerated betrayal. “What, you don’t believe me?”

Sam held his hands up placatingly, though it’s clear from the mischievous glint in his eyes that he’s not genuine at all. “I didn’t say that! I just think you’re probably rusty. The 40’s were a long time ago, so who knows how good your 21st century kissing skills are?”

Bucky’s face took a wild journey from offense to honest consideration to taunting flirtatiousness. He leaned in closer to Sam with a purely devilish energy, channeling every drop of charm that had survived from his glory days.

“You wanna find out?”

Sam’s eyes blew wide in genuine shock, his jaw dropping in tandem with Steve’s, who is a very clear third-wheel.

“I mean, I-, well, you know, I-”

Bucky finally put the poor man out of his misery with another laugh. “Relax, Sam, I’m just fuckin’ with you, don’t explode on me now.”

Sam managed a smile, regaining his composure quickly. “Well, don’t threaten me with a good time, Buck. Believe me, when I want something like that, I’ll make sure you know.”

It was Bucky’s turn to be slightly flustered at the definitive statement, no maybes or hypotheticals, just: “When?”

Sam just nodded, looking slightly less confident but not backing down, an honest light in his warm brown eyes. “When.”

Bucky’s metal hand twitched, an aborted reach for the man who presented so many promises, a pipe dream within his grasp.

Sam clearly noticed, the way he seemed to notice everything about Bucky, and his own hand reached back for him, to meet in the middle.

A wave of self-consciousness ran through Bucky, who quickly drew himself back and reached out again with his flesh hand instead.

Sam’s brow furrowed with understanding and a devastating sense of empathy. Carefully, giving the other man time to draw back if he truly needed to, Sam pushed the warm human hand away; instead, he reached for the metal arm, the cold, brutal wiring that Bucky had spent years trying to forget.

Bucky hardly moved, barely breathing in case it would somehow break Sam out of some trance, as if it would break the moment and send the other man running for the hills.

Sam, of course, didn’t run. Instead, he laced his fingers with the vibranium digits, bringing them up to his face with a reverence usually reserved for holy sacraments.

Bucky let out a soft puff of surprised air when Sam’s lips just barely brushed his metal fingertips, the years of blood and harm wiped away by the most tender touch this machine had ever felt.

Sam looked up, his voice deep and rough with a sort of gravity as he brought the hand back down to his lap. “When.”  

Bucky just nodded, feeling bashful at the solemn acknowledgement of whatever had been building between them since they arrived in the Theatre, or since they teamed up, or even since the first day they met. “When.”

They turned their attention back to the screen, their hands still loosely linked together, dark brown and striking silver interwoven in the darkness of the Theatre.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (REASSURING) I didn’t say that!

“So, how was it?” Wanda asked eagerly.

Natasha shrugged coyly. “A lady doesn’t kiss and tell.”

Wanda just gave her a deeply unimpressed side-eye. “Yeah, sure, but seriously, I didn’t know about this! What was it like?”

Natasha squinted at her pointedly. “Aren’t you married? You should know this stuff.”

At this point, the all powerful Scarlet Witch was practically pouting. “Natasha, don’t be difficult, I’m asking how you felt finally kissing Steve.”

Nat finally caved, her mouth twitching up into an almost involuntary smile. “It was…it was nice.”

Wanda’s face fell. “That’s it? Just nice? Where’s the passion? The adventure? The heated high stakes.”

Natasha’s smile widened, her face taking on an almost shy glow. “Please, my whole life has been nothing but high stakes adventures. This was different. Sure, it was for the mission and we were in danger, but the kiss itself was just easy. Simple, maybe a little boring, but I could use a little boring. It was just nice.”

Any judgement had evaporated from Wanda’s expression, her cheeks now creased with a pleased smile on behalf of her friend’s comfort. “I’m glad, then, that you found something nice.”

Natasha coughed, shaking off the brief vulnerability. “Well, yeah, but it was a one-time thing, you know how it is.”

Wanda clicked her tongue. “I wouldn’t be too sure about that.”

STEVE ROGERS: (INDIGNANT) Well, it kinda sounds like that’s what you’re saying!

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (INSISTENT) No! I didn’t, I just wondered…how much practice you have-

“You’re killing him, Natasha, please,” Pepper laughed.

STEVE ROGERS: (IRRITATED) You don’t need practice-

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Everybody needs practice!

STEVE ROGERS: (FIRMLY) It was not my first kiss since 1945. I’m 95, I’m not dead.

“That’s…actually pretty surprising, who else could you have possibly kissed?” Bucky asked suspiciously.

Steve gaped at him. “What, you don’t believe someone would wanna kiss me?”

Bucky groaned. “Yeah, yeah, you’re gorgeous now, we get it. But you’re not really a casual kind of guy, I don’t expect you to be picking up a lady at a bar or something.”

Unbeknownst to them, Natasha was subtly listening in to the conversation between the two old friends, never having gotten any details following his curt statement all those years ago.

Steve finally deflated, peeking out from where his hands were steepled in front of his face. “I might have lied.”

The words were barely a whisper, though the super soldier serum ensured that Bucky heard every letter loud and clear.

In almost slow motion, a giant shit-eating grin engulfed Bucky’s face. “What was that, pal?”

“Shut up!” Steve practically whined.

“You lied to her?” Bucky sounded downright giddy, looking more like a lottery winner than a man who found out that his friend was unluckier in love than expected,

Steve looked like he was praying to wake up back under the ice. “Well, no, but yeah, I guess? I just didn’t want to prove her right, like oh, poor little virgin Steve hasn’t kissed a girl since the 1900s. It’s embarrassing as hell.”

Bucky seemed torn between teasing him further and alleviating some of his fears; while it was a very close battle, the burden of friendship forced him to control his amusement. “I’m not even gonna focus the whole virgin thing, which is honestly not that serious. I mean, I definitely got around back in the day, but I sure haven’t done anything like that since HYDRA. I hope I will, one day when it feels right, and the same goes for you.”

It seemed to make the very real shame in Steve settle as Bucky kept talking, “As for the whole kissing lie, this isn’t you, Steve. So she knows you haven’t kissed anyone since Peggy, so what? That just means you’re picky and that you have standards, which isn’t a bad thing. If Natasha likes you at all, which I really think she does, then the amount of girls you have or haven’t kissed shouldn’t matter to her.”

“Thanks, Buck,” Steve said after a moment, his voice gruff with emotion.

Natasha decided not to let them know she’d heard any of their exchange, fearing that the ensuing humiliation would only make Steve feel even more awkward and withdrawn. Still, in the privacy of her own mind, hearing that Steve had only claimed to have other experiences to impress her made her heart do a funny flutter, unbearably fond of this captain and his need to be larger than life in every way. 

Even deeper still, a sense of twisted satisfaction gripped at her, overcoming the brief stings of jealousy that had apparently been entirely unnecessary.

[The tension settles back down as they look out onto the road in silence again. After a brief moment, Natasha turns to him, her smile turning curious.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Nobody special though?

“Professional fisherwoman, this one,” Kate said to herself, though it has the added benefit of pulling a chuckle from Yelena.

STEVE ROGERS: (SCOFFING) Believe it or not, it’s kind of hard to find someone with shared life experience.

Bucky pointed at the screen in agreement. “That’s the best thing you’ve said so far, ‘cuz it’s honestly crazy. Like what am I meant to say, ‘hey, nice to meet you, I was a brainwashed killer for the last 70 years, do you like Thai food’?”

The heroes in the Theatre burst into a collective fit of laughter at the sheer distress in Bucky’s voice, and the truly comical picture of a baffled date faced with the full history of a Russian assassin.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: Ah, well, that’s alright, you can just make something up.

“That’s normal, and healthy, and well adjusted,” Bruce said sarcastically.

STEVE ROGERS: What, like you?

Yelena tilted her head in consideration. “Not all of us are frozen superheroes, but our story is just as weird to tell. It’s not really good first date conversation.”

Kate turned to her with a judgemental look. “You broke into my house and told me about your tragic assassin history over a pot of mac-n’-cheese, so I don’t think you’ve got a leg to stand on here.”

Yelena looked absolutely delighted at the snark from the other girl, a mix of grudging respect and a predatory smugness. “Yes, but this rule is just for strangers. No, when the other person gets it, when they have had even just a little peek at this life, then it can be romantic, no? I show you scars, real and also inside, and we eat with the one fork in the entire building.”

Kate’s face got hot at the implications she had unknowingly made, the parallels between their charged interaction and a real date, so she decided to focus on the only part of the sentence she could address without embarrassing herself further. “I don’t need more forks, it’s just me in the apartment.”

Yelena scoffed dismissively. “Please, maybe you don’t need, if you never have guests, though I will always pop by in window. Still, life is not only about what you need, that’s boring. It’s nice to have just to have. When is your birthday?”

At Kate’s disbelieving look, Yelena snickered, “I’m joking, Kate Bishop. Obviously I already know your birthday, please, come on!”

“That’s…not really the part I was questioning,” Kate clarified quickly.

But Yelena was undeterred. “Yes, next birthday, you will get a mystery present. It’s a secret, you will never guess. Maybe small pointy kitchen stuff that you eat with, who knows?”

Kate couldn’t hide her giggle at the Russian woman’s antics. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am very serious! Your house is so empty, only things you need, boo! You need more stuff, things just to look at, cute table things that you never use, extra forks and maybe spoons, if you’re feeling fancy. Home needs more things just for you.”

Kate let out a bitter laugh. “Well, I was raised in a house with all sorts of knicknacks and my mom’s flashy decor, so I can say from personal experience that none of it makes up for the emptiness.”

Yelena met her eyes with a surprising sense of sober honesty. “And I grew up in places with nothing for myself. More forks don’t fix anything, no, but it’s not Eleanor’s decorations anymore. Now, they would be all yours. Less empty that way, don’t you think?”

Kate let that thought sit, imagining a reality where her home could be full of things beyond the necessities without reminding her of the shallow beauty of her upbringing. “Maybe.”

Yelena looked victorious. “Good, so I will send forks. See, wasn’t that nice conversation about dark backstories? And you judged my romance skills.”

Kate went pink again, her pulse thudding in her ears at the more blatant statement. “Sorry, Casanova.”

Yelena just smiled brightly as she turned back to the screen.

Behind her, Natasha just gave Kate a sympathetic nod; Natasha knew that her sister might honestly be interested in the young archer, but she knew just how easy it was to doubt the authenticity buried in jokes. Still, she had hopes for Yelena and Kate, and she was quietly thrilled to see her sister freer and happier than she had been since their early childhood.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: I don’t know, truth is a matter of circumstances. It’s not all things to all people all the time. And neither am I.

Loki nodded approvingly. “Finally, a sentiment I can get behind. People get so caught up in honesty and all that drivel, but the truth is as fluid as magic. It depends on the caster, or in this case, on the person who’s sharing this truth.”

[Steve studies her as she makes her admission, his blue gaze searching for something deeper beneath her cool rogue persona.]

STEVE ROGERS: It’s a tough way to live.

“Survival isn’t always about pleasure, Captain,” Loki said then, his green eyes dimming slightly.

Thor gave him a slightly confused glance. “Brother, I have no doubts of your survival abilities, but this is more about matters of the heart.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “And? While I may not have your history of mundane and emotional romances, I have had my fair share of casual lovers. Would you imagine that I tell them the truth of everything I am? They couldn’t bear the half of it, I’d wager.”

Thor nodded in concession. “That’s fair, I suppose. And do you ever search for something…mundane and emotional yourself?”

Loki’s eyes flicked briefly to the unaware Bruce Banner, before turning back to his brother pointedly. “What, like you?”

Thor had clearly followed his gaze, clearing his throat awkwardly, but he wasn’t distracted from his initial line of questioning. “Well, yes. In all of my true, deep relationships, I have had to reveal much more about myself than I would ever want. It’s uncomfortable, but I’d say it’s worth it for the simple pleasure of revealing yourself to one who cares. Would you ever seek the same?”

Loki briefly considered firing back a snarky quip, but his voice was surprisingly honest when he answered moments later. “I don’t know if I would ever be able to be so forthright. You know my nature, brother. If, Norns forbid, I were ever to fall in love, genuine love, I would need them to already know me.”

His brother nodded for him to continue, recognizing the rarity of such openness from the trickster god and finally learning from his time in the Theatre.

Loki blew out a frustrated breath, gesturing vaguely with his hands to seem more casual. “What I mean to say is, in an ideal situation, I wouldn’t have to expose my own weaknesses unless this person already knew them. I’d like to think that someone in the Nine Realms could already know and understand who I am, no false hopes or high expectations, and still-”

“And still choose to love you,” Thor finished knowingly, his heart breaking at just how small Loki looked for a moment.

The idea of his troubled younger brother, who had struggled to fit in Asgardian social circles even before the truth of his heritage had been discovered, longing for a soulmate who would already understand his deepest intricacies and shameful secrets and love him all the more for it made his chest ache.

Loki forced a shallow grin. “But, of course, that’s ridiculous. I mean, how could I ever find someone who somehow knows every detail of my life without my having to tell them, not to mention the notion of them falling in love with me. Damn near impossible, I’d say.”

An incredulous snort caught their attention, as they turned to see Justice. A wrinkled hand was pressed over her shifting face guiltily, barely covering the beginnings of a secretive smile. 

“I’m glad my loveless plight amuses you, I live to entertain” Loki griped.

Justice just shook her head softly, unwilling to expand on the infinite multiverses of knowledge in her possession; the image of a silver moustache and a hideous brown suit flitted quickly through her mind, in a different timeline and existence altogether, and she simply smiled at Loki again, her expression still infuriatingly neutral.

[Natasha’s mischievous smile falls into something a little more somber as Steve pries the more vulnerable truthful side of her out from where she keeps it close to her chest.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (CONCEDING) It’s a good way not to die, though.

“I’m sorry that you’ve always gotta think like that,” Peter offered, known for his own youthful honesty.

Natasha smiled. “Thanks, kid.”

STEVE ROGERS: (POINTEDLY) You know, it’s kind of hard to trust someone when you don’t know who that someone really is.

Trust is always hard to come by in their field of work, as all the gathered heroes know firsthand, so the Captain’s subtle jab wasn’t entirely unfounded, though many of them were surprised to see the early stages of Steve and Natasha’s bond; close as they are now, it is almost difficult to understand just how much growth and communication had gone into building their trust.

[Natasha turns to him fully then, green eyes wide and almost hurt. She goes still, quiet in a way that shows she’s reflecting on the bond she has built with Steve since their initial encounter. She looks at him openly, willing to offer whatever version will make him keep her around.]

“Aw, Nat,” Sam muttered to himself.

Since their very first meeting, Natasha had always been a femme-fatale who moved with a self-assuredness that men twice her age couldn’t dream of. Seeing her now, safe enough to let her emotions play out on her face but also insecure enough to shape herself into the image that would earn her the time of the Captain, made Sam feel a strong surge of empathy.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (SOFTLY) Yeah? Who do you want me to be?

STEVE ROGERS: (EARNESTLY) How about a friend?

Clint pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose roughly. “Steve. Did you just friendzone her, oh my God?”

Steve frowned. “What?”

Clint pointed at the screen, at the mildly besotted looks on both their faces that were incongruent with the concept of mere companionship. “Of all the things you could be, she’s out here offering anything, and you said friend?”

Steve raised his chin confidently. “Yeah. I could have asked anything but I meant what I said: I wanted us to be friends. I’m not an idiot, I know she’s the most beautiful woman and that anyone would kill to have her as something more, but I didn't, I’m not like that. This isn’t some lust or want, that’s not what it’s about. What I wanted, what I’ll always want, is to know her. If it’s as a friend, that’s more than enough for me, anyone should be honored to be her friend. To even just cross paths with her is life-changing. Her friendship is not some consolation prize. It’s-, she’s everything.” 

After a moment of heavy silence, Clint nodded in respect, clapping him firmly on the shoulder. “Good answer, Steve. Damn good answer.”

Steve relaxed, feeling like he’d passed some sort of test he hadn’t even realized he’d been taking, but standing fully by his words.

The archer bent close to Natasha, lowering his voice. “You heard that right?”

Natasha, who had been biting her lip to hide a giant smile as Steve spoke emphatically, just nodded.

Clint gripped her arm fiercely. “Tasha, if you don’t date this man, I just might.”

The grim determination in his voice shocked a laugh out of Natasha. “Clint, please, you’re straight and married.”

The scathing look he sent her was comical. “Nat. He just called you the most beautiful woman in the world and then explained that it’s still the least important thing about you, come on! I’m serious, I can be flexible and Laura would understand. Hell, she’d be jealous!”

The two agents laughed, before Clint tapped her foot with his own seriously. “Honestly, Nat, Steve is head over heels for you, and I know you’re a good enough operative to see it. If you really, truly don’t want anything, that’s fine, but maybe cut him loose.”

“What?”

Clint spread his hands helplessly. “You know I’ve been the number one supporter of you two getting together, way before everyone else. But you know me, and you know I would never try to pressure you into something. Steve loves you, Tasha. He’s put the ball firmly in your court, just waiting for the day you tell him you want him too. For a man who’s been frozen so long, he’s got no issue waiting for you. So if you wanna stay friends forever, that’s all good and well, but take pity on him and be honest about what you want. Don’t leave him in the in-between of not knowing whether you’re friends or more. Either set him straight or go for it, but just do something.”

“And if I go for it?” She asked tentatively.

Clint beamed. “Then I will be so incredibly happy for you, and I’ll know that the right person is standing by your side. You’re my sister, Tasha. He could love you the way I know you deserve, if you just let him.”

Natasha wiped at her face harshly, trying to disguise the tears welling in her eyes at her best friend’s words. “Some brother you are, why are you giving me the shovel talk here?”

Clint jerked his thumb at the Captain, who was deep in conversation with Sam and Bucky. “He said you’re everything. He knows what he wants, even if he’s too chickenshit to ask for it. The question is, do you? And if you figure it out, will you have enough courage for the both of you?”

Leaving her to grapple with that existential question, Clint squeezed her arm again, allowing their heads to rest against one another for a brief moment of comfort, before turning back to the scene unfolding on the screen. 

[This is clearly what Natasha needed to settle back into her comfort zone, a soft laugh lighting up her face before she returns to her more reserved, pensive expression.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (DRYLY) Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business, Rogers.

The audience of heroes chuckles along with her pessimistic comment.

[Steve doesn’t answer, just meeting her gaze with a knowing smile playing on his lips. The scene comes to a close as the two of them share a look in the silence as the Chevy continues down winding roads.]

“Well, that was adorable,” Tony crowed, though his eyes twinkled with genuine fondness.

“It’s good to see you opening up, Nat,” Bruce said kindly.

Justice nodded along with the stream of comments. “Yes, the 2014 SHIELD mission brought a lot of danger, but it allowed for more growth between the two of you, and the trust has only since deepened.”

She gestured up to the screen. “When they took refuge with Sam, bringing about his journey as a hero, there was more connection between the two of them.”

“Why exactly do we have to see this?” Steve protested.

Justice sighed. “It’s true they’ve seen the gist of your relationship with Natasha, but there are other debts and loyalties that must be fully understood before we watch some heavier issues.”

The thought of the fallout surrounding the Sokovia Accords lands in the Theatre with all the subtlety of a loaded gun, an elephant that refuses to be addressed until the final moment.

With that, Justice floated mysteriously back to her own corner, and the rest of the Avengers and co. returned their focus to the memories unfolding before them. 

[The screen lights up to show Steve washing dirt and grime from his hands in Sam Wilson’s guest bathroom, shaking them off as he reaches for a hand towel.]

“You look awful,” Pietro said bluntly.

“Gee, thanks,” Steve replied sarcastically.

Pietro shook his head irritatedly. “No, I mean dusty. What happened to you?”

“We got blown up.”

Steve gave no further explanation, and Pietro decided it may be in his best interest to leave it at that. “Okay, then.”

[In the reflection of the mirror, Natasha can be seen sitting on the edge of the bed behind him, looking relatively still. A towel is in her hand, and her other hand is reaching for her damp hair, but she seems to be frozen in place. Her eyes are wide, unfocused, and she is lost within the depths of her inner thoughts.]

“Oh, Nattie,” Tony whispered sympathetically.

Natasha reached over to squeeze his hand, grateful for the attentiveness of her friend and desperate to savor as much of it as she could before her betrayal was inevitably explored later on.

[Steve catches a glimpse of her through the mirror, his eyebrows furrowing with worry at her despondency. His own clean-up is almost entirely forgotten as he carefully comes out of the bathroom to lean by the door, his towel still in hand.]

Again, it made Clint’s heart soften to see Steve’s attentiveness towards Natasha, even in the smallest details proving that she’s always lingering somewhere on his mind. Natasha deserves nothing less.

[At the sight of Steve, Natasha refocuses on her facade of normalcy, spurring back into action as she wrings the ends of her hair with her towel.]

STEVE ROGERS: (GENTLY) You okay?

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (FEIGNING INDIFFERENCE) Yeah.

“Weak, I give it a 4 out of 10, I expected better,” Loki chastises jokingly.

Natasha managed a laugh, feeling uncomfortably flayed open with her vulnerabilities on display but appreciative of the normalcy of banter. “Sorry to disappoint, then.”

[For a master spy and assassin, it’s not a very convincing denial. Steve nods agreeably, but he tosses the hand towel aside in the bathroom before striding across the room under Natasha’s watchful gaze, coming to sit across from her carefully.]

STEVE ROGERS: (WARMLY, ENCOURAGING) What’s going on?

Bucky shook his head with a weariness that can only come from personal experience. “Once he turns those big sad baby blues on you, you’ll be spilling your guts out before you know it. Trust me, no one’s immune.”

[Natasha seems to flounder for a second, almost shocked that anyone would notice her suffering, and that anyone would continue to press her out of concern. She visibly fights with herself, the urge to run and the urge to soften at war within her chest, but under the full weight of Steve's empathetic care, Natasha crumbles into stilted honesty.]

“It’s hard to let people in, but it’s worth it. I know it is much easier said than done, but good for you,” Queen Frigga commented politely.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (SHAKILY, HALTING) When I first joined SHIELD, I thought I was going straight… but I guess I just traded the KGB for HYDRA.

Bucky just shook his head ruefully. “That’s how HYDRA operates, you think you’re gonna break free, then you realize you’re right where they wanted you.”

[She shakes her head, taking a rough breath, eyes focused anywhere but the dusty yet welcoming frame of Steve seated in front of her. Natasha’s face flickers with dark amusement as she speaks, though it’s a very weak cover for the agony beneath it. Steve stays silent, letting her release her truth at her own pace.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (SARDONICALLY) I thought I knew whose lies I was telling, but I guess I can’t tell the difference anymore.

Loki shifted uncomfortably in his seat. For the god of treachery and deception, lying wasn’t just something he did, it was part of who he was. While he usually found joy in this, embracing his ever changing nature, there were still some moments in the dark of night that left him wondering who he could ever be in the truth’s light.

[She finishes with another smile that fits just a little wrong, tinged in the fear and heartbreak of realizing that her efforts to cleanse her soul and do good were all essentially pointless. Steve looks at her seriously.]

The heroes leaned forward eagerly, waiting to hear what kind of motivating and rousing speech Steve would muster up to raise Natasha’s flagging spirits. 

STEVE ROGERS: (TEASING, DEADPAN) Well, there’s a chance you might be in the wrong business.

There’s a moment of dead silence, before Tony guffawed, “Jeez, Rogers.”

Steve just shrugged. “I tailor to my audience.”

The Theatre echoed with the combined laughter of the Avengers in the room, all of them delightfully surprised at Steve’s cheekier side. 

[It must be exactly what Natasha needed to hear, because she lets out a startled laugh, the first genuine smile lighting up her face since her discovery of HYDRA’s reach into her life. She looks so incredibly fond as she looks at Steve, who mirrors her amusement warmly.]

Clint’s throat tightens with a lump of emotion at the honest smile shining in Natasha’s eyes through the screen.

[The humor is quickly drained from Natasha’s face as she continues to look at Steve, her green gaze cracked open in devastating vulnerability. She takes in the countless sacrifices and little favors he had done for her since the moment they’d met. Even now, sitting beside her as she wallows in a way she would never share with another person, he’s saving her life again.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (REVERENTLY, WHOLEHEARTEDLY) I owe you.

The raw, undiluted devotion in her confession is almost too much for the heroes to look at, filling the silent room with a thick blanket of emotional tension.

[Before she even finishes her solemn vow, an offer of the most dangerous kind for a woman of her history, Steve is shaking his head in loyal dismissal.]

STEVE ROGERS: No, it’s okay.

“Just like that,” Natasha breathed, an undertone of awe lining her voice.

Steve drummed his fingers absently on the edge of the seat. “I don’t believe friendship should be tit-for-tat. I believe in reciprocity, sure, but it’s out of care, not expectation.”

A weak smile tugged at his lips. “Besides, you paid me back anyway.”

Justice chimed in from where she was hovering over a seat, “Yes, that’s actually why I am showing this memory now, my dears. We will then see the choices that came from this, not a result of blind devotion but rather a willful commitment.”

The two nodded at the Elder, smiles fading but still grateful for her forewarning of what they would soon be seeing on the big screen. 

[Natasha looks thoughtful, her eyes calculating and searching for the slightest hint of deception as she asks a question that has clearly been weighing on her.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (VULNERABLY) If it was the other way around, and it was down to me to save your life—now you be honest with me—would you trust me to do it?

Tony wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders. “You shouldn’t be so afraid, Nattie. I know I’ve done my fair share of throwing past shit back at you, but deep down I know you do what you think is right. I’d say we all trust you.”

Natasha didn’t answer, the foreign feeling of guilt coating her tongue with a layer of ash as she remembered the way she had abandoned Tony when he had thought she would have his back. Still, she leaned into her friend’s embrace, thankful that, whatever he already knew about her actions in the Leipzig fight, he didn’t seem to hold it against her now. 

[In light of the horrid truths that had been revealed, knowing that she had spent even her free years as the hands of evil and an agent of suffering, Natasha waits for the judgement of the purest man she knows. But it never comes.]

STEVE ROGERS: (WITHOUT HESITATION, EARNESTLY) I would now.

Bruce thought back again to how Steve had encouraged his own ill-advised attempt at romance with Natasha, chuckling to himself now as he saw how much their fleeting bond paled in comparison to the all-consuming allegiance the two had towards one another. 

Thor seemed to follow his silent train of thought. “They truly are best suited for one another.”

“Yeah, they really are,” Bruce agreed, trying to keep any bitterness from his voice.

From the knowing quirk of Thor’s mouth, he was evidently not successful. “Don’t worry, Bruce. You will be loved the way you deserve, by the right person who fights to be worthy of you.”

They held each other's gaze for a long moment, their breaths suspended in time as an understanding settled over them.

Bruce smiled fully then. “And for this right person, I would learn to be worthy of them, too.”

“Please,” Thor scoffed, his eyes fond, “you already are.”

“Yeah?” Bruce asked.

Thor tapped at his own temple. “I know a thing or two about worthiness, Bruce. I’m practically an expert on the matter.”

Bruce laughed. “So I’d say you’re definitely worthy yourself.”

Thor smiled in return, though the look was surprisingly solemn. “I pray to the Norns I am.”

They shared another secret smile, thinking of a future outside this Theatre of matching thrones and collaborative plans, a hopeful future where maybe they’re more than just partners in the royal sense.

[The surprise is clear as day as an invisible weight falls from Natasha’s shoulders, unexpected hope painting her features at the absolution from a man whose condemnation would have broken her.]

Steve nudged Natasha gently, waiting till she turned to him before asking, “You know that I trust you, right?”

Natasha’s lips quirked up. “Yeah, I like to think so.”

Steve nodded in satisfaction. “Good, because I do. I think I always have. Like, you’re probably one of the people I trust most in the world, Nat.”

Natasha’s chest caught painfully on her next breath, the novel sensation of pure trust catching her off-guard. “You too. I mean, I trust you.”

Steve’s responding smile could rival the glow of the giant golden screen.

[Steve smiles, knowing that she must have just about hit her threshold for emotional openness, needing the ease of their comfortable banter more than anything now that her fears have been alleviated.]

STEVE ROGERS: (PLAYFULLY) And I’m always honest.

Tony’s mouth twitched into the faintest frown, which Steve caught in his periphery. “Tony, I-”

Tony just put his hand up, not quite cruel but firm. “I got a feeling we’re about to see it now, so you might not wanna waste all your best explanations yet, Steve.”

Steve just nodded, his face taking on the vaguely miserable quality of a man on death row.

[It does the trick, and Natasha gives him a thankful smile, pivoting quickly to the offered escape route of humor.]

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (TEASINGLY) You seem pretty chipper for someone who just found out they died for nothing.

“Well, that’s harsh,” Vision deadpanned.

Wanda laughed, leaning into her husband's embrace. “That’s kind of their thing.”

STEVE ROGERS: Well, I guess I just like to know who I’m fighting.

[The scene comes to an end as Natasha and Steve smile at each other, bound by a shared sense of wasted potential and the new bounds of trust in a relationship that runs far deeper than they ever could have imagined.]

Justice came up in front of the heroes, a now familiar routine between memories. “Well, you have all witnessed the careful development of the partnership you see before you in the Theatre today.”

The heroes all nodded, grateful to have a peek into the vulnerable intricacies of Steve and Natasha’s strange yet ironclad bond.

Justice’s magically shifting expression took a darker turn. “And now you will understand what kind of history may drive heroes to choose paths darker than the light they once wanted. When one must make a choice between the duty to what they know is right and the debt of love, choices are made that cannot be taken back.”

With that ever-cryptic statement, an omen of a warning that they could hardly decipher, the Judgement Spirit took her seat once more.

[The screen glows a brilliant gold, revealing a German hangar in 2016. Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are running frantically to escape the chaos of the crumbling Avengers team behind them, only to come face-to-face with Natasha Romanoff.]

The Avengers who had been present during that horrible rupture all winced collectively, reminded of just how easily they had crumbled apart from within.

[Natasha is aiming her Widow bites at them, prepared to incapacitate them. Something in Steve’s face gives her pause as she studies him with something like resignation in her face.]

Clint stilled in his seat, surprised to see Natasha in the way of the Captain on the screen. “You…you caught up to them? You were there.”

Natasha just nodded, resigned.

“Steve got away.”

Natasha just barely flinched at her best friend’s whispered realization. “Yeah, he got away.”

Clint just shook his head to himself in awe, never having imagined that Natasha would have allowed Steve to escape, that she was loyal even on the opposite side of the battle from Steve and Clint himself.

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (RESIGNED, KNOWINGLY) You’re not gonna stop.

STEVE ROGERS: (WRYLY) You know I can’t do that.

[There’s another beat of silence as the two study each other, once strangers, former teammates, and something infinitely more complicated all at once.]

“Oh, how difficult it must be,” Queen Frigga said quietly, to no one specific.

The entire room nodded in response, some of them unable to imagine their own reaction in such a situation and others burdened with memories of their own experiences in Natasha’s painful shoes.

[Natasha’s face twists with a complex medley of emotions that she herself likely couldn’t identify, torn between her loyalty to an old friend and her heart’s cry for Steve Rogers. For an agent who specialised in duplicity and manipulation, her betrayal of Tony seems to weigh on her; still, as acceptance finally floods her features, her decision is clear.]

At the sight of her own raw expression, Natasha finally steeled herself to turn and meet Tony’s eyes for the first time since the clip had begun to play. When she looked up, Tony was already looking at her, waiting patiently for her to finally face the victim of her selfish choice.

“Hey, Nattie.” The words were gentle, if a little gravelly from emotion.

Natasha felt her eyes begin to sting with tears, and she lifted her chin and blinked rapidly to wish them away. “Hey.”

Tony scooted closer, putting a familiar hand on the side of her face, making her look at him. “Hey, no, no, no tears, Little Red. We moved past this, remember? You said you’re so sorry that you made the biggest mistake ever by leaving my awesome sexy team, I said I always knew because I’m an awesome sexy genius, we’re still us and boom, kumbaya. See, easy, nothing to rehash now.”

Natasha let out a watery laugh, marvelling at the easy forgiveness of her friend, but it quickly fell into a solemn expression. “I know, I remember, it’s just different, seeing it now. I know you said you saw it coming since you spotted us at Peggy’s funeral, but I swear, Tony, I didn’t know I was gonna do it until the moment it happened.”

Tony’s face softened. “I know, I believe you. It hurt, it broke my heart, especially with all that happened after. I thought you had my back, but you didn’t.”

Natasha’s eyes closed as she accepted the judgement, but he patted her cheek, startling her into meeting his gaze again.

“Let me finish before you start your self-loathing spiral, trust me, I’ve done it enough to recognize the signs. Anyway, it was devastating, of course, but it was inevitable. It wasn’t me vs Steve, not really. Not at that moment, for you, at least. It was between Steve and something, or some king really, who wanted to hurt him.”

Natasha nodded, her eyes fighting to stay dry as she leaned her head into Tony’s palm from where it’s cupped along the side of her face. “I…I had to choose him. Tony, it wasn’t the logical or best choice, I knew it even then, I just had to.”

“Because you owed him?” Tony prompted, his eyebrow raised knowingly like a man who was urging his heavily repressed friend to understand the romantic undertones of her choices.

Natasha just shook her head, shrugging her shoulders helplessly. “I just had to.”

Tony decided to leave the romance of it all on the backburner, focusing on their own fragile friendship instead. “Okay, it’s okay. You had to do it, you did it, it’s done. We’re all still here, all our fingers and toes intact, hearts a little bruised but still beating. You’re not the first one to make a mistake for someone you care about.”

At that, he sent a somewhat sympathetic look over at Steve, who is listening attentively to something Bucky is explaining to him and Sam, a faint lingering sense of wonder that always fills him when he looks at his lost best friend visible in his eyes.

Natasha followed his gaze, her face softening involuntarily at the sight. “Thank you, Tony. Really. For all of it.”

Tony pats her one last time, before he scoots back to where Pepper and Peter are having their own side chat. “Don’t mention it, Itsy Bitsy.”

NATASHA ROMANOFF: (DEFEATED, ACCEPTING) I’m gonna regret this.

Steve grimaced as the words left her lips on, echoing in his ears in the way they had from that moment till the day they had been reunited following their time spent separately on the run. “Do you?”

Natasha cocked an inquisitive eyebrow at him, too tired from her own emotional unraveling with Tony to start guessing. “Do I what, Steve?”

Steve’s blue eyes shone with the guilt of a sinner. “Do you regret choosing to let me go? Do you regret switching sides, honestly?”

Natasha mulled it over, before blowing out a breath that held the exhaustion of many years of being calculated and cold; for now, she decided, honesty is what she needed.

“Yeah, I do. I made my choice, so I’m not saying this to hurt you, but I think I really regretted it after. After all my work to find a good life, I blew it all up and went back into hiding, into being scared in the shadows and clawing for my survival. Sure, some of it was my own history with the Red Room and my family coming back out of the woodwork, but the rest of it came from this one choice. The worst part of it all, though, was that you weren’t there.”

Steve looked wounded. “I didn’t even know if you would have wanted to see me.”

Natasha tried for a smile, though it couldn’t hide the vulnerability of her words as she replied, “I think I’ll always want to see you. That’s why, no matter how much I regretted my decision when I was alone and outcast, I can’t say that I would trade your life for it. Not honestly. The only thing worse than everything I lost would have been standing aside and watching King T’Challa get to you.”

Steve was stunned into an honored silence, as Natahsa finished, “So while I wish I was never in that moment, and I regret the way I ruined everything for Tony and for myself, having you breathing here next to me with that stupid look on your face is just…yeah.”

“Natasha Romanoff,” Steve breathed out in awe, savoring her name on his tongue with a reverence only heard in churches and bedrooms.

Natasha ignored the heat prickling up the back of her neck as she turned back to the screen, all too aware of his piercing gaze still fixed on her face.

[Steve’s face is lined with apprehension and almost fear, knowing that Natasha will always put her mission first, as was her lifelong nature. Still, underneath the understanding, Steve’s eyes shine with a glimmer of hurt as he prepares for this unpredictable agent’s attack.]

By now, based on the bits and pieces of conversations that the heroes had heard taking place around them, the audience knew what the Black Widow was about to do, but there was still a tension, a collective breath held as they awaited the chance to see her devotion play out on the screen.

[After a moment of heavy silence, Natasha shifts her arm decisively, shooting her Widow bites at the Crown Prince turned premature King T’Challa. Stunned, he drops, unable to pounce on Steve and Bucky, who turn to watch him writhe in shock.]

Bucky nodded gratefully at Nat. “I know you didn’t really do it for me, but I never got to say thank you, so. We’re good friends now, but back then,T’Challa would have destroyed me, as I deserved. You bought me some time, the rest of my life to this day, actually. Thank you.”

Natasha smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’ve made a good life for yourself with the time.”

Bucky’s eyes unconsciously darted towards Sam, before returning to Nat’s knowing look. While he looked the slightest bit caught out, the faintest undertone of fear flashing in his eyes, it was quickly overshadowed with the soppiest expression of fondness.

“Yeah, I think I really have.”

[Bucky’s eyes remain fixed on his pursuer, forever sharp in his paranoid instincts, but Steve’s head snaps back quickly to look at Natasha with a mix of surprise, relief, and something like awe.]

“They’re so sweet,” Kate sighed.

Yelena wrinkled her nose in exaggerated disgust. “Ew, no, that’s my sister you’re talking about.”

“So, what, you’re not happy for her?” Kate challenged.

Yelena paused, before grumbling honestly, “You know I am.”

Kate looked enormously pleased at the small victory.

[Preserving the silence, Steve nods at her in weighted gratitude, before he and Bucky begin to make their escape once more.]

“And there they go,” Pietro muttered.

[The scene comes to a close as Natasha continues fending off the Black Panther with her Widow bites, paying a sacrifice of her own loyalty to buy Steve and Bucky time to run from the shattered remains of the Avengers.]

Justice didn’t even leave her seat this time, having already hinted at what was coming next enough that the room was ready when her voice rang out. “This choice, as kind as it was, led to dark consequences. I trust that much of these conflicts and words have already been had, but I must warn that things may be very heavy to watch indeed.”

The heroes steeled themselves to finally discover just what exactly had gone down in the Siberian bunker to have scattered and ruined the Avengers so irrevocably.

[The shimmer of the golden screen shows the depths of a Siberian bunker where Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes are poised and ready for attack: Bucky has his rifle pointed and Steve is crouched defensively with the shield, as the two of them wait for whatever is coming in through the big doors.]

STEVE ROGERS: You ready?

BUCKY BARNES: Yeah.

[The large gray doors are pried open to reveal Tony Stark, fully decked out in his Iron Man suit.]

“Yikes, jump scare,” Peter whispered to himself.

Tony’s lips formed the start of a weak smile, but he felt drained of any real joy, all the space in his head and heart reserved solely for the simmering anxiety and sluggish dread building within him.

[Steve’s eyes go wide with recognition, caught between fear, anger, and the faint hope that comes from years of friendship.]

“You were happy to see him,” Natasha observed quietly. 

A short, humorless chuckle came from Steve. “Yeah, for just a second, it felt like old times. Before it all went to shit.”

[Tony’s mask slides up into the helmet, revealing his face as he approaches them slowly; Steve, though his shield is still at the ready, matches him in this, coming to meet him in the middle. Bucky remains unmoved, ever the weapon, his gun pointed steadily and his protection of himself and Steve unwavering.]

TONY STARK: (SARCASTICALLY) You seem a little defensive.

STEVE ROGERS: (WEARILY) It's been a long day.

“No, really, you don’t say,” Loki snarked, his sharp tongue biting despite having next to no information about the events unfolding on the screen.

TONY STARK: At ease, Soldier. I'm not currently after you.

STEVE ROGERS: (SKEPTICAL) Then why are you here?

[Tony hesitates visibly, before shrugging nonchalantly as if he isn’t giving the biggest show of trust by meeting a man who had burnt the image of noble heroes to the ground in the name of the gunman standing sentry behind him.]

TONY STARK: (GRUDGINGLY) Could be your story's not so crazy. Maybe.

Bruce’s jaw dropped. “Wait, what? You agreed with him? You found common ground.”

When both Steve and Tony nodded, he pursed his lips. “So, if it’s not about the Accords or the other threats, what the hell could you possibly have been fighting about so badly that the team was fucked entirely till Thanos dragged us back together?”

Neither of them could so much as look at him, much less give him an answer.

“You’ll see,” Tony finally said quietly.

Bruce settled back into his seat, second-hand stress beginning to crawl under his skin at the despondent look on Tony’s face, and the guilty look on Steve’s. 

TONY STARK, CONT’D: (FEIGNING NONCHALANCE)  Ross has no idea I'm here. I'd like to keep it that way. Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself.

“Gotta just say, jail is not fun, so you should definitely try to avoid that,” Clint added dryly, thinking of his own time under imprisonment and, later, house arrest.

STEVE ROGERS: Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork. 

[Tony lets out a soft huff of laughter, though the air is still tense with the distance between them. But Steve doesn’t ignore this show of good will, and he lowers his shield.] 

STEVE ROGERS: (HONESTLY) It's good to see you, Tony.

From the underlying tension in the Theatre, the air thick with nerves and betrayal, they all knew that whatever was coming would be devastating. So, seeing a moment of raw friendship just moments before disaster was as sweet as it was heartbreaking.

TONY STARK: You too, Cap.

[Tony turns to look at Bucky, who still has a wary expression on his face, weapon raised in a way that only comes from a century of training.]

TONY STARK, CONT’D: (DRYLY) Hey, Manchurian Candidate, you're killing me. There's a truce here. You can drop-

[Steve turns to Bucky, putting his hand out and waving away the fears in a signal to drop his weapon. It’s only then that Bucky nods, putting it down and trusting Steve’s assessment.]

Bucky just looked away from the screen, wanting a moment of reprieve before things inevitably heated up.

Sam obviously noticed, but didn’t comment, allowing him the silence he sought.

[The three of them explore the abandoned and damaged looking sublayers of the bunker, unaware that King T’Challa is following them in his Black Panther armour.]

Natasha smiled wryly. “I’m good, but clearly he’s a stubborn son of a bitch.”

[Tony takes up the head, his scanners on and repulsor at the ready. Steve and Bucky follow closely, all prepared for whatever may be waiting ahead.]

TONY STARK: I got heat signatures.

STEVE ROGERS: How many?

TONY STARK: (UNCERTAIN) Uh, one.

“What is this?” Pepper asked quietly.

[The room comes to life as steam fills the area, the lights flickering on to show containment capsules that hold all the other Super Soldier experiments conducted by HYDRA over the years.]

“Holy shit,” Pietro gasped.

HELMUT ZEMO: (ON SPEAKER) If it's any comfort, they died in their sleep. 

Sam was torn between the club-dancing conman Baron that he and Bucky had worked with in the future, the one who had correctly enjoyed Marvin Gaye and flown them to Madripoor on his private jet, and the irredeemably evil yet broken man on the screen before him. 

He didn’t know the details of what exactly this man had done in Siberia, but he knew of his treatment towards Bucky as the Winter Soldier, and that was reason enough to put him behind bars for good. Still, as the man was more of a nuisance than a real threat these days, it was a stark reminder to see him like this.

[All of the enhanced soldiers have been shot in the head. Bucky stares at Josef's corpse, sprawled out in a chair in a facsimile of the peace neither of them had gotten to experience while alive.]

HELMUT ZEMO: Did you really think I wanted more of you?

Bucky shuddered, remembering the lengths they had gone to to prevent the propagation of serum only to have idiots like John Walker parading about with undiluted power in their rotten veins.

BUCKY BARNES: (CONFUSED) What the hell?

HELMUT ZEMO: I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here. 

[The light finally falls on Zemo, who’s nothing but a face behind a window embedded in impenetrable walls. Tony and Bucky aim their weapons, and Steve launches the shield, only to be disappointed when it boomerangs back into his hands with no damage to the Baron.]

Thor shrugged. “Worth a shot, I always say.”

HELMUT ZEMO: (DISMISSIVELY) Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets.

TONY STARK: (COCKY, SELF-ASSURED) I'm betting I could beat that.

Pepper sighed in fond exasperation, a smile curving lightly across her freckled face. “Of course you could.”

HELMUT ZEMO: (TAUNTING) Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then you'd never know why you came.

Justice clicked her tongue, a soft, raspy sound. “You never could escape the allure of knowledge, could you, my dear? The need to know, the need to discover, will always lead you.”

[In the shadows, the Black Panther creeps closer, listening carefully to the situation unfolding ahead.]

STEVE ROGERS: You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here? 

Yelena frowned. “Seems like so much work for just the three of you, killing all those people, no?”

[Steve strides forward to meet Zemo’s eyes through the pane of glass separating them. His gaze is firm and judgemental, but Zemo only looks fascinated.]

HELMUT ZEMO: I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. 

Sam tilted his head. “Okay, so he’s like, fully obsessed with you.”

HELMUT ZEMO, CONT’D: (AMUSED) But now that you're standing here, I just realized . . . there's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes. How nice to find a flaw.

Steve spread his hands in self-effacing admission. “Please, I’m nothing but flaws, you don’t need years of studying me to find one.”

His off-handed comment reminded the others of his broken rant, what felt like years ago in the Theatre, about his own insecurities and the weight of heavy decisions that had steered him into mistake after mistake. There was no absolution, no salvation through his self-flagellation, but it put it into perspective for the other heroes that Steve was every bit as cracked and hollow as the rest of them, no matter how well he hid it with the facade of confident Captain. Beneath Steve’s calm competence was a hidden layer of rage, and beneath that, a layer of grief, and at its core, the love of a flawed man. 

STEVE ROGERS: (REALIZING) You're Sokovian. Is that what this is about?

HELMUT ZEMO: (DISMISSIVELY) Sokovia was a failed state long before you blew it to hell. 

Wanda winced, saddened at the sound of her native homeland’s horrible situation. “That’s cruel.”

Pietro nodded, the same grief of home in his eyes. “Cruel, yes, but not untrue.”

HELMUT ZEMO, CONT’D: (GRAVELY) No. I'm here because I made a promise.

[Steve’s face settles in recognition of the animal grief that is audible in Zemo’s words, his eyes fluttering in sympathy before he schools his features, focused on the danger at hand.]

They had all tasted this particular poison before, and it never got any easier to witness the primal agony of a grieving human.

STEVE ROGERS: You lost someone?

[Zemo’s expression is wiped clean of any joyful taunting, empty in its all-consuming grief that bleeds into a deep-seated rage.]

HELMUT ZEMO: (DARKLY, VENGEFULLY) I lost everyone. And so will you. 

“I already have,” Steve murmured to himself, garnering sympathetic glances from the heroes sitting near him.

[A click can be heard as a small screen lights up, Cyrillic letters indicating that it’s the surveillance footage from December 16th 1991. Steve steps over to the screen warily.] 

HELMUT ZEMO: (CRYPTICALLY) An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That's dead . . . forever.

“Looks like he was right,” Natasha noted sadly, all too aware of how they had splintered apart under the slightest pressure.

[Tony sees the screen change, showing grainy footage of a long winding road, a car, and a tragedy. His eyes are already shining with grief and anger as he searches for answers.]

TONY STARK: (WARILY) I know that road. What is this?

Tony’s breathing became laboured, hurtling towards panic with all the grace of a runaway freight train. “Fuck. Fuck.”

Justice came over to him, floating quickly through the air to place a hand on his forehead, chanting quietly in that ancient language she often used.

As abruptly as it began, Tony’s anxiety attack slowed, his breaths levelling out as he leaned into the Elder’s touch in gratitude. “Tha-, thank you. Thank you, Justice.”

Justice smoothed down his sweaty hair, before letting him go easily. “Of course, my boy. I should have known this would be so hard on you, on all of you.”

She leaned over to Steve and Bucky, putting the same quick charm on them. “This won’t prevent the pain I’m sure will soon come, but it should help temper it. I want you to grow, and to feel and heal from the pain, but I do not want needless suffering.”

They all thanked her profusely, desperate for any sort of help they could get leading up to this awful memory.

[Within the footage, a car can be seen crashing harshly, damaged beyond repair. A motorcycle pulls up beside the wreckage almost immediately.]

[In the bunker, Bucky looks down in shame at what he knows is coming next. Steve, bearer of this secret and unwilling intermediary, studies Tony’s expression. Tony can’t tear his gaze away from the literal disaster unfolding on screen, his entire world narrowed to the evidence before him.]

Clint’s eyes narrowed, his years as a SHIELD operative making the man’s shiftiness stand out like a glaring beacon. “What are you hiding, Steve?”

No one answered him, leaving the archer to watch the scene with a sick feeling building in his gut.

[In the video, Howard Stark is crawling painfully from the driver’s side, his face bloody and scratched.]

A sudden wave of crushing realization swept through the room, so heavy that it was almost a physical thing. After their own encounters with the Stark parents, having seen them plucked from time just hours before their unfortunate demise, the heroes knew suddenly that whatever horrible secret had ruined the Avengers had clearly involved the death of Tony’s parents.

HOWARD STARK: (PLEADING) Help my wife. Please. Help.

[He looks up to see that his supposed savior is the Winter Soldier, who grabs him roughly by the hair and drags him upright until Howard is kneeling and looking up at the face of a man he knew lifetimes ago.]

Howard Stark:  (CONFUSED) Sergeant Barnes?

Sam tipped his head back against the headrest. “Fuck.”

Bucky flinched, still refusing to look up despite whatever magic aid Justice had placed on him.

Eyes still closed, Sam patted around, feeling for the recognizable metal of Bucky’s hand. “Fuck. It’s bad. It’s bad, but it’s not you, Bucky.”

Bucky tried to shake him off, partially due to his concern of his own strength and partially because of just how unworthy he felt. “Don’t, Sam. I could hurt you, I’m not, I can’t-”

Sam didn’t let him finish. “You can’t, or you don’t want to?”

“Can’t,” was the hesitant whisper that Sam had to crane his neck to hear.

“Alright then,” he answered, his hold on Bucky’s arm as firm as his voice.

Bucky allowed himself to exhale, eyes fixed on their point of connection as a welcome destruction from his sins on the screen.

Maria Stark: (TERRIFIED, DESPERATE) Howard!

Tony had a full body flinch again, his eyes screwed shut firmly as Peter and Pepper both whispered soothing words that he barely heard.

[Out in the bunker, Tony finally rips his gaze from the screen glares at Bucky at the sound of his dying mother’s voice, realization fully settling over him like a cold blanket of fury. He forces himself to look back at the screen, unwilling to miss a single detail of the truth that had been hidden for so long.]

Loki felt his heart clench in unexpected sympathy as he watched the other man’s face crumple into furious grief, mourning a beloved mother in a way that was all too familiar to the god.

[Any trust in Howard’s face is immediately lost as the Winter Soldier begins to pound it in, his enhanced metal arm stained in the blood of the dying inventor, who crumples lifelessly at his feet.]

Maria Stark: (SCREAMING, AFRAID) Howard!

[Tony’s face is wrenched in a disgusting cocktail of fear, grief, anger, betrayal and possibly the slightest hint of satisfaction, and neither Steve nor Bucky can bear to look at him.]

“I wouldn’t blame you if you were sort of relieved,” Bruce whispered to him.

Tony shook his head, his eyes vacant. “That’s the fucked-up part: I spent years almost grateful that my dad died, the lack of goodbyes aside. It sucked, obviously, but there was a kind of freedom in knowing that a car accident had given me a reason to…to really be someone with no dad, if that makes sense. He’d been gone my whole life, and frankly shitty when he was here, so it just felt like my experience was legitimized with the crash.”

He wiped harshly at his nose, clearing his throat as his voice came out ragged. “But seeing this, knowing it wasn’t just the universe taking the bastard out, but someone actively hurting him, it’s just- fuck. It made me feel guilty, God knows why, ‘cuz the way he died shouldn’t matter, but something about it doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Bruce stayed silent, letting his friend vent until he buried his face in his hands quietly. He just rubbed his back in comfort, knowing there’s nothing he can do to fix Tony’s grief besides just being there for him.

[The Winter Soldier drags Howard’s corpse back into the car, positioning him just right, until it looks like the man had simply succumbed to the wounds caused by the crash. Maria Stark looks at her husband in grief, hyperventilating from she’s stuck in the passenger seat, waiting for her own death.]

[It’s this that breaks Tony completely: the sight of his mother, as beautiful as he’d last seen her, bracing for a death she had done nothing to deserve. His eyes are wide with fear and grief, and he looks horribly young for just a moment.]

After having met Tony’s mother, and having seen the tender love she showed to her beloved son, the Avengers and company could easily understand that, while Howard’s passing had been no great personal tragedy, an angel was lost in the death of Maria Stark.

[The Winter Soldier rounds the car to Maria’s side, and quickly chokes her out with his human hand. She passes quietly, and suddenly there’s only one remaining Stark in the world.]

Tony let out a horrible sound, crossed between a sob and a wail, his shoulders shaking in heavy sobs as Pepper wrapped her arms around him tightly.

The Theatre was plunged into a pained silence, the heroes averting their eyes from the sharp grief emanating from the crying man in waves, granting him as much privacy as they could afford in such a revealing magical room.

Tony scrubbed at his face roughly, frustrated hiccups of despair bubbling out of him as he struggled to calm himself. This grief wasn’t new, had weathered itself into his bones when he was barely an adult and lined itself in every crevice of his soul. 

And yet, the cruel blessing of having his mother here with him in the Theatre for just a short time had reopened the wound so deeply, the ache of her loss as sharp as it was the moment he first heard the news.

He finally gathered himself enough to sit upright, squeezing Pepper’s hand gratefully, and patting Peter’s knee in reassurance as Tony focused back on the screen.

No one commented on the silent tears that continued slipping down his pale and drawn face.

[The Winter Soldier’s gaze is flat, and cold, machine-like and empty. There is no recognition, remorse, or humanity to be found within this weapon. He stalks forward and shoots out the CCTV footage, effectively ending the transmission and moving on to the next target.]

Loki grimaced, the blank look in the Winter Soldier’s eyes all too reminiscent of his own experience under thrall with the Other and Thanos’s armies, forcing him into intergalactic wars and the role of a villain for the people of Midgard.

[Steve watches Tony carefully as the transmission cuts out, so he’s ready when Tony suddenly lunges at Bucky, who scrambles back fearfully. Steve stops him, using his strength to keep the suit in place and prevent a justified brawl.]

They all inhaled sharply, waiting to see what could possibly go wrong from this already bleak position.

STEVE ROGERS: (DEFENSIVELY) Tony. Tony.

[Tony looks down to see that Steve is keeping him from his revenge, and another sense of realization seems to come over him.]

Peter’s eyes lit up with a disbelieving realization, matching Tony’s own expression on the screen. “Oh, there’s no way.”

Tony scoffed. “Oh, believe me, there is.”

“Son of a bitch,” Peter breathed emphatically, his blood boiling as he put together the pieces of the long-held Siberian secret.

[Tony looks destroyed in the most honest sense of the word, hollowed out and overfilled at the same time. He looks at Steve with new, heartbroken eyes, evaluating what he thought had been a friendship but was now proven to be just another lie.]

TONY STARK: (QUIETLY, WRECKED) Did you know?

For anyone who hadn’t quite connected the dots, the whispered question landed like a bomb, breeding an explosion of outrage.

Sam’s jaw dropped. “You have got to be kidding me right now.”

“Are you serious?” Bruce demanded, turning to Justice. “Is this implying what I think it’s implying?”

Justice didn’t answer, her ageless face lined with what looked like disapproval that accompanied the volleys of questions and outcries from the gathered heroes.

Steve took a deep breath, resigning himself to facing the consequences of his own actions.

STEVE ROGERS: (HESITATING) I didn't know it was him.

Natasha screwed her eyes shut in disappointment. “Fuck.”

It was one thing to hide the truth from Tony, using and abusing his generosity to hunt down and save Bucky, but it was another thing entirely to lie to his face, practically gaslighting him into thinking that Steve was still the innocent party.

[The lack of admission, the unwillingness to accept such a magnanimous yet undeserved chance to explain himself, only serves to anger Tony more.]

TONY STARK: (ANGRILY, BROKEN) Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?

Wanda winced, her magic bombarded by the maelstrom of negative emotions whirling around Tony. She could tell, from his emotional signature alone, that Steve had broken this man’s heart.

[The silence drags on for what feels like an eternity, the two of them still locked tight in each other's arms as Steve realizes there’s no way out of this hole he had dug for himself years ago.]

STEVE ROGERS: (GUILTILY, DEFEATED) Yes.

A feather dropping to the ground would have been audible in the completely shocked and outraged silence that swallowed the Theatre and its audience.

[Tony jerks back in betrayal, looking absolutely demolished as he yanks himself away from Judas’s grip.]

“So much for team trust and bonding,” Clint scowled, shooting a venomous glare at Steve.

[He nods to himself, the gesture of a man quickly losing his sanity and coming to terms with the monster that lives within named Grief. And then he’s lashing out at Steve, repulsor active and helmet on, sending the traitor clear across the room.]

The heroes were still subdued, unable to muster much of a reaction as they grappled with the enormity of the scandalous betrayal they had just witnessed, but there were still some cheers and comments supporting Tony in his entirely justified attack.

Steve took it head-on, too tired and ashamed of himself to even begin to deflect the criticism. “Yeah, I deserved it, I know, I know.”

[Bucky comes to his partner’s immediate defense, but Tony’s already coming in hot with shots in his direction. Bucky punches him with the metal arm, but Tony catches it using the full force of his suit.]

In a better mood, Peter would have commented on just how much easier it had been for himself to catch Bucky’s swing, but for now, he sat in simmering rage on his mentor’s behalf.

[Unseen behind the safety door as the battle continues to rage on outside, Helmut Zemo walks away, knowing his task is already done and the seed of discord has been so firmly planted that there’s no way the Avengers could ever recover.]

“Coward,” Thor spat in disgust.

STEVE ROGERS: (TO BUCKY) Get out of here!

[As Bucky bolts away, Iron Man fires, but misses. Steve lands in front of him. Bucky hits some buttons on a control panel and a giant door overhead starts to open.]

STEVE ROGERS: (PLACATING) It wasn't him, Tony. Hydra had control of his mind!

TONY STARK: (UNWAVERING, UNCARING) Move!

STEVE ROGERS: (DESPERATELY) It wasn't him!

Bucky’s eyes were wet when he said, “I wish he never found me, sometimes.”

Sam reared back, turning to look at him, affronted. “What the fuck did you just say?”

Bucky gestured at the screen with his metal arm glinting like a reminder. “Look around, Sam. Look at this shit. Steve, my kind-hearted Steve, is beating the shit out of a grieving man after he lied to him and used him for years. He’s only doing it because of me, first to find me and then to protect me. I ruined his life.”

Bucky looked down at his own scuffed shoes in shame, before gasping in shock when a firm grip took him by the chin, lifting his gaze to meet the righteous fury in Sam’s.

“Shut the hell up right now. Steve made his own damn choice, yeah, because he loves you, but also because he’s his own person. I’m not saying it was right, I think it was disgusting and wrong and borderline evil, but that has nothing to do with you. I thank God every day that he got you out of HYDRA, because nothing could ever justify leaving you in that place. Don’t you ever, ever, say some shit like that to me again. You got that?”

Bucky couldn’t do anything but nod under the full force of Sam Wilson’s aggressive reassurance. “I got it.”

Sam held his gaze for another moment, before nodding back and releasing his grasp on his face. “Good.”

Bucky sat in silence, dazed and off-kilter, but Steve took his chance to squeeze his shoulder. “I heard all that nonsense you were spouting, and I think Sam pretty much covered my thoughts. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you and you know that. This was my mistake, I see that now, but I thought it was worth it for you. It was my choice. Of all my regrets, saving you will never be one of them, Buck.”

Bucky managed a smile, ignoring the stinging in his eyes as he leaned into the touch. “Thanks, Stevie.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder again, his expression growing teasing. “Of course, Buck. Sorry that my speech doesn’t come with a face grab, though, so you’re gonna have to go ask Sam if you want more.”

Face flaming, Bucky shrugged off his grip in betrayal. “Oh, fuck you, I take it all back, I hope I destroyed your life and you never recover.”

Even in the middle of watching one of the worst experiences of his life, the familiar bitching of his old best friend made Steve laugh.

[The fight continues to rage on, and Steve damages Tony’s suit by grabbing him in mid air and smashing the foot repulsor with his shield.]

FRIDAY: Left boot jet failing. Flight systems compromised.

TONY STARK: Ah crap.

“Shit,” Pepper whispered nervously, despite knowing her husband had obviously survived the events of the cold Russian bunker.

[He manages to fly jerkily up to Bucky, but Steve uses the shield to ricochet the blast right back at Tony, knocking him down.]

STEVE ROGERS: (GIVING UP) He's not going to stop. Go.

Pietro shrugged, remembering the circumstances that had found him and his then-twin sister seeking powers from HYDRA. “Understandable, wanting to kill the man who killed your parents.”

[Bucky tries to escape as Steve provides a distraction, yanking Tony down mid-flight with a wire around the neck. Steve aims the shield at him but Tony repels it with a blast.]

TONY STARK: Come on, come on.

FRIDAY: Targeting system's knackered, boss.

TONY STARK: (ADAPTING) I'm eyeballing it.

“You’re just gonna do it yourself and hope for the best?” Clint asked skeptically, knowing just how much thought and effort goes into consistently nailing the perfect target.

[His helmet retracts, taking his fancy aiming systems with it, and he focuses with his own eyes. He fires and hits the giant hinge which explodes, cutting off Bucky's escape route and knocking him back down.]

Clint looked shocked at his natural accuracy. “Well, color me impressed.”

[Tony blocks some hits from Bucky with a pipe, and quickly has him in a rear chokehold, infusing all of his buried grief and rage into the hold.]

TONY STARK: (HEARTBROKEN) Do you even remember them?

BUCKY BARNES: (GUILTILY) I remember all of them.

Bucky turned to Tony with a look of repentance in his eyes. “I know we already talked about this, but I just need you to know that I’m trying to make up for it. For all the harm I’ve done, I’m trying to make some change, make my being found and returned to society mean something. I do it for myself, of course, but I do it for them, too. For the people whose lives I took, I owe them something good with the time I stole. For every innocent, good person. I don’t think it’ll make anything better, but I just need you to know, when I try to do good in this world, I do it for them.”

Tony was silent for a moment, watching the formidable soldier squirm nervously in front of him, before a weak smile lights his face like a pale ray of sunlight in between storm clouds. “Thanks, Bucky. You’re right, it doesn’t bring her back or fix anything, but it means something to me, at least. I think…I like to think my mom would have loved that.”

Bucky’s smile was equal parts relief and hope. “Thank you, Tony, I’m glad to hear it.”

[Bucky pushes them both from the walkway, Steve jumps into them to deflect their fall. Bucky lands on a higher platform while Tony and Steve plummet all the way down to the concrete floor by an opening in the wall looking out at the harsh and desolate Siberian landscape.]

STEVE ROGERS: (DISMISSIVELY) This isn't gonna change what happened.

“No, you don’t get to decide that,” Yelena snarled, shooting the Captain a withering glare.

She always hated when people said shit like that, as if the real goal was to do anything but to make the other person understand the depths of your own suffering, as if they really believed a harm could be undone through violence. Yelena believed, from her own numerous experiences with grief, that violence actually does help when there’s a good target for it.

TONY STARK: (GRIEF-STRICKEN) I don't care. He killed my mom.

The unfiltered anguish in his voice sent chills down the spines of the heroes, the air in the room thick with his torment.

“I get it now, I promise. It shouldn’t have taken us meeting for me to understand, but I get your grief,” Steve whispered shamefully to Tony.

Tony nodded, not quite cold but still too raw to be friendly with the source of his pain. “My mom has that effect, I guess. Better late than never.”

[Tony and Steve start off trading blows, but Bucky is soon added into the mix as the two super soldiers fight against the grieving man.]

Bruce sucked in a breath through his teeth. “Yeah, I really see why you didn’t wanna call Cap and the others when Thanos first attacked, I don’t think I would have either, Jesus.”

[Bucky gains the upper hand, pinning Tony to the wall and trying to pry his Arc Reactor loose, and is just barely stopped by a massive laser beam from the suit that destroys his metal arm.]

The animal ferocity of the battle had many of the audience members taken aback; if they didn’t know any better, they would have thought Tony was some supervillain rather than the actual victim of the conflict.

[From there, Steve and Tony are locked in heated exchange after heated exchange, breaking each other’s bodies and hearts.]

STEVE ROGERS: (APOLOGETICALLY) He's my friend.

Bucky shook his head. “Loyal to a fault, goddamn it.”

Steve couldn’t muster a smile, though not for lack of trying. “If only I could be loyal to everyone at once.”

TONY STARK: (BETRAYED) So was I. 

A hushed sense of mourning washed over the gathered heroes, filling them with the sudden understanding that, no matter what reparations are made in the future, Steve and Tony have crossed a line from which they can never return. Try as they might, their friendship will never again be what it once was, forever haunted by the agony of this betrayal.

[They continue in-fighting, until Tony punches Steve then throws him back towards the gaps in the wall.] 

TONY STARK: (COLDLY) Stay down. Final warning

STEVE ROGERS: (BRASHLY) I can do this all day. 

“Don’t you do that, Steve. Don’t use your motivational speech when you’re on the bully’s side,” Natasha snapped.

Steve looked appropriately chastised. “I know, Nat. I sound like a broken record, but I really am sorry.”

When she didn’t answer, Steve deflated slightly, shuffling away from her in his seat. “I…I understand if this changes things. For us.”

She sighed deeply, rubbing at her temples. “You already know what you did was fucked. And we already established that we’re honest with each other. So, as long as you’ve changed, I don’t really have any place to speak on holding you to the sins of your past.”

Steve’s shoulders dropped infinitesimally, a burden rolling from them as her absolution eased his fears. “So we’re gonna be okay?”

“Yeah, Steve, we’re gonna be okay,” Natasha said quietly, offering him a tired smile.

[And so they go, fighting and fighting until Tony ends up sprawled on the cold hard floor, with the traitor and the sinner standing over his broken and grieving body.]

TONY STARK: (CUTTINGLY, FURIOUS) That shield doesn’t belong to you! You don’t deserve it!

“You know, now that I know this, I feel like this helps me idolize the shield less,” Sam confessed.

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How’d you mean?”

Sam chewed the inside of his cheek. “Well, before, the shield was a symbol of goodness and virtue and the American Dream or whatever. It was a lot to live up to, and the shoes of the man who held it were way too big for me to fill.”

Bucky made to interrupt, but Sam cut him off. “But now that I see this, all the damage that Steve did with that shield, knowing the blood that John fucking Walker spilled in broad daylight with that shield, I can see that the shield doesn’t mean anything. It’s as holy or as cursed as the person holding it and their intentions for it. That means I can choose, every day, to pick up that shield for good. I don’t have to turn into flawless Steve to earn it, I can just make the choice to be the kind of Captain that I want to be.

Bucky nodded thoughtfully. “You’re right. The shield is ultimately an extension of you, it’s what you make of it. Of course, you’re gonna do great things with it, I can just tell.”

Sam smiled bashfully, feeling significantly lighter now that he was free from the shackles of expectations that Steve Rogers himself couldn’t live up to.

TONY STARK, CONT’D: (WILDLY) My father made that shield!

Tony snorted, the first vaguely joyful sound to come from him in what felt like hours. “Honestly, he’d probably want you to have it. He was obsessed with you after all.”

Steve took the olive branch for what it was, smiling at the other man. “I think we were pretty good friends, I guess.”

“He was half in love with you, Steve, lemme tell you, he would not have wanted you to give it back. He’s probably rolling in his grave at the thought of you giving it up to me.”

“Good, ‘cuz I think you deserve it more than I do at this point,” Steve said.

Tony shook his head. “I don’t think either of us deserved it, at that moment. You were being a right asshole, but I wasn’t exactly heroic. I don’t regret it, and we’ve all lashed out over less, but it wasn’t my best moment either.”

Steve reached his hand out for a shake. “So we both suck, a little bit.”

Tony studied the outstretched limb warily, before taking it and shaking it firmly. “We both suck. Some of us more than others, clearly, but still.”

Steve laughed softly, some broken bond between them healing in his chest as they let go; not quite where they once were, they never would be, but still better than he could have ever hoped when he abandoned him all those years ago.

[He drops it, the scene comes to a close as Steve and Bucky limp off together, leaving Tony alone, betrayed and mourning in a frozen wasteland, with nothing but a cracked shield and a broken heart.]

Tony shook off his body as if he could physically remove the weight of everything he had been forced to relive. “Thank God, it’s over, we are free at last.”

The Avengers and company weren’t quite sure what to say, watching him carefully with sorrowful eyes and hearts full of sympathy.

Tony noticed their mournful gazes, scoffing, “Please stop gawking so we can move on, I genuinely wanna pretend none of that happened, it’s definitely not making my top 10 best moments.”

He turned to Justice desperately. “Can we move on, please, I’m getting tired of seeing my own one-man tragedy on the screen.”

Justice acquiesced, turning to the attentive heroes. “Alright, you have finally witnessed the great internal conflict that ruined the Avengers, a key event that altered the course of the team and the fates of many members.”

She turned then, to Wanda and Vision, who had gotten far too comfortable while watching the experiences of others, forgetting that they themselves were the main target under the Judgement Spirit’s scrutiny.

“Now, let us return to the perilous tragedy of Wanda Maximoff and Vision, and the magic that defines it.”

With that ominous statement, her signature, at this point, Justice floated to her corner as the screen lit up in gold.