Back to You [An Endgame Continuation]

Epilogue

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74 years later
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Young bright sun rays filtered in through the delicate cream drapes, moving them with the breeze as the silence rang deafening in the bedroom.

The ruffled sheets and pillowcases belonged to one man, but he was already in the kitchen packing his coffee into a filter and flipping on the morning news. His hands, old and wrinkled, grabbed onto a bundle of white daisies sitting above the kitchen sink in a vase of water, and he dried them off with a towel before setting them on the counter. He'd bought them especially for this occasion. For this day.

And when the expected knocks arrived on his door, he didn't have to wonder who was standing on the other side. His children, James and Sarah, had already planned on seeing him on his last day at home.

They weren't young; probably landed closer to the appearance of someone in their early 50's, but their real ages were closer to 70 and 73. Courtesy of their slow aging father, who was standing before them with a soft creased smile.

Sarah embraced him first, latching on tightly as his touch made tears fall immediately onto his shoulder. "How is this day already here," she was heard whispering.

James came next, his expression blank and voice quiet in dismay. "Hey, dad."

"Son," the old soldier responded, in a tone equally weighted.

"Should we get you packed?" Sarah asked, heightening her voice in an attempt to gain some control of the situation.

"No, it's okay," he told her. "I only have one more thing." He squeezed her hand before walking back into his bedroom.

He smoothed the sheets, closed the window, then turned to the dresser that sat under his mirror. He reached for one of the upper compartments, pausing as he found his compass closed and tucked in the back. It hadn't been opened for decades, but he opened it now, setting it on top of the dresser and glancing at his own faded reflection in the mirror, remembering the time when his age had once angered him. But now, he was at peace.

He left the object on the dresser and moved into the closet, pushing back some clothes to find the shield resting in its original leather sleeve. This was all he needed now.

"It's time," he admitted once he walked out of the room with his shield in hand. Sarah lifted a hand to her face as she started to cry, and he went to wrap her in a hug. "It's okay," he assured her.

When she settled down a little, he turned to grab his bundle of flowers.

"At least let James drive you, okay?" She said through her sniffs. "It's a long drive to D.C."

"Of course, darling." He hugged her once again, then made his way toward the door, looking back one last time to see his daughter gazing back at him, her dark hair and soft smile a perfect young snapshot of her mother.

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During the drive, James stole a look through his rear view mirror down at the shield sitting in the backseat. "What are you planning on doing with that?" He asked.

Steve looked out the window at the trees and buildings whizzing by. "Let's just say I need it to stay in capable hands."

He thought about this for a moment, then made a guess. "Uncle Bucky?"