Mister Rogers ⍟ || Steve Rogers

12

Watching the film of Natasha's conference showed me all of the privileges I had gained with the leaking of S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA's files. For the first time in my career, I was completely free.

I would always be thankful for S.H.I.E.L.D. giving me a clean slate. Part of me found it difficult to let go. I had grown accustomed to my life as an agent; anything beyond that scared me.

However, one of the benefits of losing S.H.I.E.L.D. was the freedom to use my abilities publicly. Fury and I had originally signed a strict contract to conceal any trace of my powers. Since then, I'd lived with the constant pressure of slipping up in my everyday life. Now, for the first time, I didn't have to worry about ruining everything I'd built with a single mistake.

Once Steve was discharged from the hospital, Fury requested our presence at the graveyard where he was "buried." Sam parked in the empty parking lot outside, and we all exited the car, spotting the grave immediately. The breeze blew the American flags surrounding it, as white flowers towered over and around the soil.

Fury emerged from the side of the tree, stopping at his headstone. It read:

Col. Nicholas J. Fury

"The path of the righteous man..." Ezekiel 25:17

"So you've experienced this sort of thing before?" Fury said, peering over his sunglasses at Steve.

"You get used to it," said Steve with a small shrug.

"We've been data mining HYDRA's files. Looks like a lot of rats didn't go down with the ship," Fury explained. "I'm headed to Europe tonight. Wanted to ask if you'd come."

Steve was the first to answer. "There's something I've got to do first."

Fury's head turned to Sam, "How about you, Wilson? Could use a man with your abilities."

"I'm more of a soldier than a spy," declined Sam.

Fury nodded and then gestured ahead, "Walk with me, Jones."

I smiled, walking along his side through the graveyard. We had travelled about 20 feet before Fury spoke again.

"Figured Europe wouldn't be a good fit for you after all of this, but I thought I'd ask anyway," he said.

My brow furrowed, "You didn't?"

"I know you, kid. And after seeing you out there, it would be a waste to keep you as an agent. You're a fighter, and I think you're ready."

I nodded, hesitating as I searched for the right words. "I thought I wouldn't know who I was without S.H.I.E.L.D., and I don't, yet. I need to find that."

"You were someone before S.H.I.E.L.D., too, remember that. And I have faith in the path you're going to make for yourself."

I offered a sad smile, "I just don't know if I'm ready to lose this life I've made for myself here."

"You've always been made for more." He stopped walking and turned to me, extending his hand for me to shake.

There was a happy sadness in my chest. I looked to the man before me with gratitude and appreciation. He was the only person I had when I had nothing, and he had given me everything since then. There is no telling where I could have ended up if not for his guidance.

I ignored his extended hand and instead wrapped my arms around him tightly, "Thank you for everything," I whispered.

He pat me on the back awkwardly, a smile in his voice, "Alright."

Satisfied with what I thought would be our last conversation forever, we walked back to the grave where Sam and Steve still stood, engaged in a serious discussion.

Their heads turned up at the sight of our return. I left Fury's side to stand between Steve and Sam.

"Alright, then," Fury shook hands with Steve and Sam a final time, then pointed to his headstone. "Anybody asks for me, tell them they can find me, right here."

With no other words needing to be exchanged, Fury left my sight. It felt strange to see him go. A part of me felt I should have followed him, but his words rang through my head. I was made for more.

"You should be honored. That's about as close as he gets to saying thank you," said Natasha, sauntering up from behind us.

She and Steve stepped away for a private talk, leaving me to speak with Sam.

"Surprised you didn't go with Fury. Thought you would be all for a mission," said Sam.

His question was answered when my gaze unintentionally lingered on Steve for longer than I had planned.

I met Sam's eyes with a shy smile. He chuckled, unfazed, "I get it. Your place is near him."

"That's where I'd like it to be," I said quietly.

Natasha took a few retreating steps backward. Our eyes locked and we exchanged a polite wave. Another smirk was thrown to Steve, and then she was gone; a leave of absence well deserved.

The remaining three of us stepped together to close the distance between us. Steve held a Manila folder in his hands.

"You're going after him," said Sam.

I looked up at Steve, whose gaze remained set on the folder. He opened it for me to see, a headshot of Bucky immediately catching my attention.

Steve picked up the picture and held it in his palm. "You don't have to come with me."

"We know," I said.

I caught Sam's eye. His determination mirrored mine. He then uttered the phrase that would begin a new journey for us all: "When do we start?"