These are the Hands of Fate - Steve Rogers x OC

Seventeen: We Gather Stones, Never Knowing What They'll Mean

October 17, 2023, 5:07 p.m.

It was a heavy silence that covered the field, like the weight of an executioner's blade ready to strike again at any moment, though technically it already had. The thick, gray dust hadn't yet settled, still obscuring what had previously been, that morning, a lush, green landscape. As she looked around at those who'd been left standing among the smoldering field, she couldn't help but wonder if this is what the end of it all looked like. Her ears were still ringing from the gunfire and chaos that had only just ceased, and she could finally feel the pain from the deep gash on her side as the warm, sticky blood begin to seep into the jagged slices of the thick, black material of her jumpsuit.

She always thought that believing that the worst day of her life had already passed was easier than preparing for another one to take its crown. It was never about being pessimistic; it was realism. It was a truth universally acknowledged. Bad things happened every day and, often, there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Waking up that morning, how could she have known that, once again, her life would be irrevocably changed by the time the sun began to set? How could she have known that she would lose two of the most important people in her life? How was she to know that taking that job all those years earlier would eventually lead to her downfall?

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October 17, 2023, 9:28 a.m.

The ride to the facility that morning had passed by almost too quickly. It was less than three miles, but it seemed that, as soon as Steve had put the jeep in drive, he was already returning the gear shift to the park position. He was meeting with Tony and Bruce to discuss a few last-minute things and Maggie couldn't stand to sit home alone, twiddling her thumbs and waiting to join them. Thankfully, she hadn't needed to when she received a message from Natasha earlier, asking her to come up to her room.

With a quick kiss to Steve's lips, they parted in the foyer as he went to the hanger, and she took the short journey through the familiar halls to their old home. Behind those walls, so many memories had been made, burrowing deep into the wrinkles of all of their brains, and replaying like film on a reel when recalled. So many nights, she'd made dinner in their little kitchen before she, Natasha, and Steve sat around talking for hours. So many hours, they'd spent in the gym training a new girl that they'd barely known.

She'd made a best friend.

She'd found the love of her life.

And she owed it all to this place that, for some brief period in the whole grand scheme of time, had been their sanctuary.

Natasha's muffled voice behind the closed door granted her entry after two short raps to the wooden barrier. Closing it back behind her, Maggie flopped down onto the bed beside her friend, crossing her legs, as Natasha braided her hair back. Watching as her dexterous fingers carefully crossed the strands of red and blonde hair, Maggie asked quietly, "How do you feel?"

The cocky, self-assured grin on Natasha's face spoke before she did, "Great." She shrugged, tying her hair off with a little elastic. "It's going to be a piece of cake. But that's not why I texted you." Speaking around a bobby pin that had been tucked between her lips, she nodded to a little hook on the back of her door where a black jumpsuit with cuffs and a belt hung limply from a hanger, "Put that on."

It was almost identical to the one Natasha herself was wearing; sleek and streamlined, perfect for a tactical mission on some alien planet. Her heart skipped a beat before reality set back in. She knew that no one had changed their minds to allow her to go with them—Scott accidentally smashing a vial of Pym particles had actually made her participation a complete impossibility.