ᴛʜᴇ ᴀꜰᴛᴇʀ ♡ ʙᴜᴄᴋʏ ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱ.

✩ ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ꜱɪxᴛᴇᴇɴ: ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴡᴇ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ

Six months earlier.....

The home of Steve Rogers felt safe, complete, and beautiful. Before Mawu was born, Steve purchased a house far away from city life to retire with his wife, Peggy. They lived happily here in peace. Steve could never leave this place, and he had decided that he too would die underneath the same roof, the same bed, and the same room he shared with Peggy. It gave him pleasure, and Steve hoped to share his last weeks with those he cared for within his home.

Mawu sat in a cushioned seat near Steve's bed. It was old and worn but well taken care of throughout the years. The best part about it, Mawu thought, was the quilt Peggy had made by hand. Its patterns of blue and red, soft to the touch, and smelt of fresh laundry. While away from home, this safe, warm coverlet gave Mawu a sense of harmony for a short while.

On this day, she decided to watch over Steve, and while he slept after afternoon coffee, she sat quietly reading a book written by a famed author during her disappearance. The characters felt familiar and sad even, but they all lived happily in the end. Each character found true peace despite their losses. Mawu had read the book twice before yet never grew tired of the plot. Hoping that one day, her own heart could mend.

"I always thought you were too good for Tony," Steve spoke from his bed. His head turned to gaze lazily at the woman, blessed to see such a calming sight after a short nap. "Every bit of you is amicable, but I think that's why he was so drawn to you. He wasn't the type to fall in love with women who could stomach bad romantic dramas more than once. You made him a different man somehow."

Mawu raised her eyes, shutting the book slowly to smile back at her friend. She placed the book down on the nightstand and quickly helped Steve prop against the headboard. She then guided a glass of water towards his mouth, taking a spot at Steve's bedside.

"Tony deserved stability," Mawu says after placing the glass down. Her fingers began to play with the bracelet that could generate into the Iron Arm—thinking of her time with Stark. He might not have been perfect, arrogant at most, but they did everything right as a couple. Life as a hero wasn't easy, and at times, their mental injuries took longer to heal. In the end, though, being together made the hard times bearable. "He did a lot for me, and I tried to do everything for him."

Steve watched as Mawu's face went mournful.

One moment, she had a life and a future; the next, she no longer held anything in her grasp. No husband, no titles, no kids. Nothing. Pepper took her place. As shameful as Mawu wanted to admit, she felt covetous. Indignant even.

Five years is a long time, and Mawu knew her misplaced emotions couldn't be positioned on her sleeves. She couldn't blame him. So, acceptance could only be her outcome. After Tony's service, Mawu knew her life might never be the same. Anger wasn't going to remedy her unknowing future.

Steve dabbed the corners of his mouth and let out a sigh. His body ached, and he sometimes wished for this to be over. But he never complained and knew his remaining time should be kept to focus on those he would leave behind. Tony tried by departing with a lengthy will, but his attempts failed due to the government's lack of help for those affected. The least Steve could do, was make things promising.

"May I give you an idea?"

Mawu lifted her gaze, nodding her head with a brilliant smile. Steve placed his wrinkled hands on the top of his bedspread, looking the woman in the eye. God, did she look so much like her grandmother. They were different but much alike. Steve questioned if a soul could fall into another body. It couldn't be a misplaced theory.