In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

32

Remarkably, Pietro had found peace in his last moments; it showed in his face. Or, perhaps all deceased people wore serene looks after they passed. I wasn't sure.

"First time you've lost a team mate?" asked Steve.

I suppose it was obvious. I hadn't stopped staring at the kid since his body was placed in front of me.

"It's not your fault."

"No, I know that," I muttered. I closed my eyes. "I just... I feel like I should have been watching him."

"He wasn't your responsibility."

"No, he was all of ours," I corrected. I dropped my head into my hands as I felt my eyes start to sting with tears, "Steve, he was just a kid."

Steve scooted from beside the wall of the boat to sit in front of me, successfully blocking my view of Pietro. It stopped my tears; it didn't stop my thoughts about his other half.

Wiping my eyes, I said, "Wanda was our responsibility, too. Where's she?"

Hearing me over the earpiece, Tony said, "Jarvis-- er, the Mind Stone robot thing got her. She's fine."

Successfully breaking my heart once more, I asked him if Wanda had been told the news.

"Good question," said Tony, "Who's going to tell her if she doesn't know?"

"I'll do it," offered Barton. He was still sprawled across the bench, his eyes closed. "I owe it to her."

Steve unhooked my earpiece, took his own, then tossed them over the edge of the boat. He reached across the short gap to grab my hands, locking our eyes.

"Je suis à toi , si tu es à moi."

Through his choppy French, I translated, "'I am yours if you are mine?' When did you learn French?"

"Learned a bit for you," he said with a nervous chuckle, "What do you say?"

"I am yours on one condition, Steven Rogers," I challenged.

I broke our hands apart, using my free hand to tilt his chin down the isle, directly at an unclaimed furry creature down the isle from us.

"Adopt that dog with me," I requested.

Steve leaned forward and kissed my lips delicately. "Deal."