3: Present

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"Steve

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"Steve." Natasha's voice was softer than usual as she stood outside Steve's apartment door. An apartment he had once shared with Percy. "It's- it's almost time for the funeral. Are you ready?"

"No." Steve's voice was flat and emotionless, but anyone could tell that he had been crying. "I'm not."

"Steve-"

"I don't wanna go, Nat."

Natasha frowned, brows furrowed as she rested against the wall next to the door. "He would want you to. He'd come if it were you."

The locks on the door clicked, revealing a very disheveled Steve Rogers. Despite him saying that he didn't wanna go, he had been dressed hours ago. "I'm not ready to say goodbye yet."

"Neither is he", Natasha mumbled. "His presence is so strong here like he- like he never left... Are you sure you wanna stay here?"

Steve nodded as he closed the door, not even bothering to lock it. "I can't leave him behind. This is the closest I'll ever get." What had Steve been thinking? Human life was fleeting... But he thought he had more time.












October 12

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