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There is a breeze on the day of the funeral. A brush of wind that reminds Malka of the people they have lost, not just Tony. Natasha would never feel this again either. Nor would Vision. Or Channa and her parents. Or the millions of people slaughtered in all of their conflicts.
Everyone had shown up, even people Malka hadn't recognized. Steve had taken care of inviting everyone while Malka was otherwise occupied in a hospital bed for the majority of the past week only being discharged the day before. Bucky had stayed with her the whole time—he even drove her, Sam, and Wanda to the cabin after Malka explained that Tony had forgiven them, forgiven him. She has a feeling he still does not believe it.
The ceremony was silent. Malka had stood between Wanda and Bucky, the sun barely catching her eyes between leaves on the overhead trees. It was a wonderful ceremony. Not nearly as flashy as Tony may have wanted, but still wonderful.
Malka was not the first to walk away, but she certainly wasn't the last. She was, however, the first to make it to the lake, away from the dock. It wasn't long before Barton and Wanda joined her as she sat in the tire swing overlooking the water.
They stare in silence for a long time.
"You know, I wish there was a way that I could let her know," Barton says quietly with a small, forced smile. "That we won. We did it."
"She knows," Malka replies with a sharp nod. "They all know."
Wanda sniffles as Barton wraps an arm around her shoulders. "Can you give us a moment?" She asks. Barton nods and walks back up the slope as Wanda steps up to Malka. "I do not know what to do now."
"Now?" Malka purses her lips. "War is over. Battle is won. Now, we're supposed to rest, right? Supposed to accept that it's over. The choice is ours." She loosens a breath as she stands from the swing and places her hands in her pockets. "Never was much good with choices."
"Maybe I should check on the school," Wanda says. "Check on the people I have left."
"You'll always have me, kochanie. No matter what. Ok? Always. And, who knows? Your grandmother might live past you. Nothing can kill that woman." Malka grips Wanda's hand tightly. "So you know, I buried him five years ago. A forgotten plot of land, out of the way so no one would know. If no one found him, he would be here." She hands Wanda a slip of paper. "I'm sorry we couldn't save him."
Tears gather in Wanda's eyes as she looks at the coordinates on the paper. "Thank you, Malka."
"Malka." They both look up to see Sam and Bucky at the top of the hill. "He's ready," Sam says before walking back, leaving only Bucky at the top.
With a sigh, she squeezes Wanda's hand and begins walking up, pausing in front of Bucky. "Did he talk to you?" She asks quietly as she slips her arm through his.
