Cursed Realities

29. It's Home

The morning sun cast a gentle glow into the room, illuminating the tangled figures of Steve and Natasha still cocooned on the couch. Their reluctance to leave its comfort was a testament to the fatigue that lingered in the air, both physical and emotional.

Natasha couldn't help but note the irony of Avengers are lazy and being reluctant to wake up. A wry smile danced on her lips as she connected some dots. "So, it's the same reality, but a different timeline. I'm basically from the past. Did we ever go to get some Reality Stone around 2015?"

Steve, still nestled beneath her, shook his head. "No."

A furrow formed on Natasha's brow. "Then how did Loki end up there?"

Steve's expression shifted to one of shock. "Loki?! You got the Reality Stone from Loki?"

Natasha propped herself up with her elbow, looking down at Steve. "Hmm. Loki... trapped my mom, Melina, in a building and blasted it."

Steve's eyes softened in realization. "When we traveled to get the stones, we faced an accident, and somehow, the Loki of 2011 escaped with the Tesseract, the Space Stone."

Natasha's eyes widened as the pieces fell into place. "So that Loki was from the past."

Steve nodded solemnly. "Yeah, in this reality, Loki is no more. Thanos killed all the remaining Asgardian people in space when they were coming to Earth. Only Thor was alive."

A moment of hushed vulnerability lingered in the room. Natasha, her cheek pressed against Steve's warm chest, summoned the courage to broach a subject that had been an unspoken echo in the chambers of her heart. The rhythm of Steve's running hand through her hair paused as he sensed the weight of her words.

"Steve, did we ever get the courage to express our feelings?" she asked, her voice soft and contemplative.

Steve's body beneath her stiffened, a subtle tension surfacing in the air between them. "No," he admitted, the word carrying a burden of regret. "We kept waiting for the right time, and in a blink... we ran out of time."

In that vulnerable moment, Natasha decided to bare her soul, to confess everything she had wished to tell her Steve. She squeezed herself into him, finding solace in the embrace that transcended time and timelines.

"Steve, that was a lie. I didn't have anything with Banner," she confessed, her voice a hushed revelation.

"Natasha..." Steve's tone was a mix of surprise and concern.

She nodded, her eyes still avoiding his gaze, "Yes. I just wanted you to be my hideout, my comfort zone whenever I would feel lost. I didn't want to expose myself by letting my feelings show. So Bruce was only a cover. But you see, it clearly didn't work."

A faint smile graced Steve's lips as he continued to run his hand soothingly on the back of her head. "It must've been tough," he acknowledged, recognizing the vulnerability she had hidden behind a carefully crafted facade.

"Hmm. Since you could read me like no other, so it was really difficult," Natasha confessed, allowing the weight of her concealed emotions to seep into the room, her confession laying bare a truth that even the Natasha of 2023 might not have divulged.

Steve's gentle touch nudged Natasha awake from their shared slumber. "Natasha, we need to leave. The new Avengers facility is under construction, so people will be here in few minutes." Steve's words reached her ears, and she nodded, still drowsy but aware of the imminent tasks ahead. They couldn't linger in the confines of this temporary sanctuary.

As Natasha stood up, she couldn't help but feel a sudden emptiness, missing the comforting warmth that had enveloped her just moments ago. A fleeting smile tugged at Steve's lips as he noticed her subtle pout. His chuckle resonated in the room. 

"Let's get out of here. I know you would want to see them, but let's not shock them right about now," Steve suggested, showing a keen understanding of the delicate situation. Natasha nodded in agreement. The people in this timeline believed she was gone, and a sudden reappearance could indeed stir emotions and confusion.

The car rolled smoothly along the familiar streets of Brooklyn, each passing landmark echoing memories of a time Natasha had once believed was lost to her forever. Steve's smile, a gentle acknowledgment of the shared history, warmed the atmosphere within the car.

"It's the house you liked to move in," Steve said, his gaze momentarily leaving the road to glance at Natasha. "You asked me if I wanted to bunk with you here. I said I would think about it. But... I didn't know I could not be able to give you my answer. I wanted to say - yes. I want to move in with you. Away from busy streets, somewhere we can call it a home. A home with you."

His hand, reaching out for hers, trembled ever so slightly. Natasha's heart tightened at the vulnerability he revealed. With a reassuring smile, she interlaced her fingers with his, offering a silent promise that transcended the boundaries of time and reality. The subtle squeeze of their entwined hands conveyed a depth of connection that surpassed the complexities of the multiverse.

The car came to a gentle stop in front of a small yet charming house, nestled at the end of the city. The neighborhood exuded a sense of familiarity and community, a stark contrast to the bustling chaos of the world they had left behind. The house, painted in a plain and soothing white, emanated simplicity, a quality that resonated with Natasha.

Steve opened the door to the white picket fence, and they stood together on the porch, gazing at the serene surroundings. Natasha admired the space, feeling a sense of tranquility settling over her. As Steve opened the door into the house, they stepped inside, and when the room was illuminated, Natasha stood in awe.

Gray paint adorned the interior, giving the space a calm and neutral ambiance. The living room featured a single set of furniture, a small kitchen situated at the end of the hallway, and a staircase leading to the second floor. It was a modest and welcoming space, embodying the essence of a home – a refuge from the struggles outside.

Natasha's eyes met Steve's, and the gentle smile on his face spoke volumes about his desire for her to share this space with him. The decision to create a home here felt right, a haven where they could find solace in each other's company.

She ascended the stairs, discovering two bedrooms awaiting her exploration. In one of them, she found Steve's clothes scattered across the bed. He chuckled as she raised an eyebrow at the sight.

"I wanted to finish my laundry, but you showed up out of nowhere and didn't let go of me," he explained, a playful glint in his eyes.

Natasha smirked, ready to tease him in return, both can play the game. "If I remember correctly, you're the one who asked me not to leave, holding me so tight that I thought you'd crush me with your arms."

He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation as she continued her exploration. In the other bedroom, she gasped. Light blue curtains framed the window, and her bed, closet, and the entire room emanated a sense of neatness and warmth. Steve, appearing behind her, inquired about her thoughts.

"What do you think?" he asked.

Natasha's smile radiated genuine contentment. "It's home."

In that moment, amidst the gray walls and the light blue accents, they found a place to call their own. The simplicity of the house mirrored the simplicity of the life they longed for – a life together, away from the chaos, where they could create new memories and heal the wounds of their intertwined pasts.