against time.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN || five years later

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN, five years later

☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

FIVE YEARS LATER

STEVE MOVED SLOWLY, lethargically, as he got up. He had a group session later that day, and sometimes he himself didn't know if he wanted to attend. He had been staying in New York, running a group session with people who were trying to cope with the Blip just as much as him. Steve paused on his way toward the bathroom, seeing the picture of Ivanna sitting on his dresser. It was one of her and Natasha actually, and Natasha had given it to him because she had so many of the blonde and knew that Steve would want a way to remember Ivanna just as much as Natasha herself.

He smiled at the picture, it was after the events of the Attack on New York. He could tell by their haircuts and styles. Natasha had short hair at the time, and Ivanna wore hers past her shoulders and pulled into a half up half down style that was in one braid. The two sisters had their arms slung around one another, wearing their normal street clothes and sitting at a table. Their heads were resting against one another as they beamed at the camera, oblivious to the world around them and what the future held for the both of them. Clint had taken the picture, at least that's what Natasha had told Steve, one day when they went to a café before a mission.

Steve loved looking at the picture because it grounded him and reminded him often of the one person who fought by his side, as well as told him how much he wished he could say to her. The picture had sat on his dresser ever since the day Natasha brought it by, smiling at it the same way she would if she was smiling at Ivanna in person. Both Steve and Natasha were lost, in some way, and had each other and photographs to keep them going.

Steve got himself ready for the day, having a quick shave and taking care of his hair for the day before he got dressed and found himself some breakfast. The world had kept going around Steve and the team, and Steve continued going as well. Just not the way he had hoped to. He had begun the group sessions to help people who were struggling more than him, he was able to push aside anything about himself to help others. Because then he could still help people when they needed it.

Steve progressed through his day slowly, until he needed to be at the cafe for the session. It was an abandoned cafe and had been where the sessions were held. Chairs were gathered in a circle, and everyone arrived and took their chairs. Steve welcomed each person silently, waiting for them to all be ready.

Everyone took their turns, going through what progress they had or hadn't made since the last time they got together. Steve listened, everyone listened.

"So I, uh..." Joe started and paused, finding the words and courage to say what he needed, "Went on a date the other day. It's the first time in five years, you know? I'm sitting there at dinner... I didn't even know what to talk about."

Steve smiled at him, his arms crossed and comfortable in his chair, "What did you talk about?"

Jos gave him an unsure look but nodded, "Same old crap, you know? How things have changed, and... my job, his job... How much we miss the Mets. And then things get quiet... He cried as they were serving the salads."

Jim Starlin, another member of the group sessions who was leaning forward in his chair and listening to everything Joe had to say, spoke next, "What about you?"

"I cried..." he sighed, "just before dessert. But I'm seeing him again tomorrow, so..."

"That's great. You did the hardest part. You took the jump, you didn't know where you were gonna come down," Steve smiled at Joe and turned his attention to the rest of the group, "And that's it. That's those little brave baby steps we gotta take. To try and become whole again, try and find purpose."