The First Avenger [1]

A Dance

Captain America: The First Avenger - Chapter Eleven: "A Dance"

THE DEATH OF BUCKY BARNES had hit Diana hard, but not as hard as it hit Steve.

It was late at night in the small England town, snow fell from the dark sky, heavy like the tears that fell from Steve's eyes.

Alone, he sat, mourning in the only manner befitting a man of his era. It was the remnants of a bar from nights past, now destroyed and desolate, a casualty of an air raid, serving as yet another reminder of his perceived failures.

As the soft strains of the radio filled the air with news of recent tragedies, Diana's voice cut through the melancholy when she found him, her search lasting until sundown.

Steve kept his gaze fixed on the bottle in his hand, unwilling to let her see the tears that threatened to betray his facade of strength.

"Dr. Erskine said that... the serum wouldn't just affect my muscles, it would affect my cells. Create a protective system of regeneration and healing. Which means um... I can't get drunk. Did you know that?" he murmured, his voice tinged with sorrow.

Diana's brow furrowed with sadness as she observed Steve from the side. "I know," she confessed softly. "I cannot either. Our metabolisms burn faster than the average person. Dr. Erskine anticipated it as a possible side effect of your serum."

Steve nodded, retreating once more into silence.

"It wasn't your fault," Diana reassured him, her tone gentle as she moved closer to his side. She knew the weight of guilt he carried, though she also knew it was undeserved.

"Did you read the reports?" Steve's voice was tinged with bitterness.

Diana swallowed hard. "Yes."

"Then you know that's not true."

"Did you try your best?" Diana asked, her posture straightening as she placed a gentle hand on the table. It was then that Steve met her gaze. She willed herself not to show pity, to remain steadfast in her support.

"I tried," he nodded solemnly. "And it wasn't enough."

"Your best is enough," she affirmed firmly, holding his gaze unwaveringly. Vulnerability washed over him, and he broke eye contact, unable to withstand the intensity of her conviction.

"All the men who died in the war, and all its victims. They will find peace when we bring an end to HYDRA, and when we bring an end to this war," Diana stated, her eyes still fixed on him, though his had shifted away. "If we give up now..." She shook her head, pulling back from the table. "Then his death means nothing."

Steve watched as Diana moved to the radio, changing it to a music station and raising the volume before extending her hand to him.

"It will take your mind off things," she offered, a small smile gracing her lips in an attempt to bring him solace.

Setting down his glass, Steve accepted Diana's hand, allowing her to lead him outside into the cold night. The only illumination came from a lone street lamp that had miraculously remained intact.

Diana guided Steve's hands as the soft strains of music enveloped them. They moved together, swaying gently in the silence of the night. Diana felt Steve's hand around her waist draw her closer, while his other hand clasped hers. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling the weight of his tears against her skin.

"Now you're getting it," Diana murmured softly as she no longer needed to guide him. She lifted her head from his shoulder and saw a hint of a smile on his lips.

Mission accomplished.

"I'm going after Schmidt tomorrow. I'm not going to stop until all of Hydra is dead or captured," Steve declared as they continued to sway. Though the dance of humankind was not true dancing, it was an intimate connection that Diana cherished more than she could express.

She met Steve's gaze, her expression serious. "I know. You won't be going alone, Steve. I will always be with you," she vowed, resting her head on his shoulder once more.

They danced, their movements fluid and effortless, as if time stood still around them. Steve couldn't shake the feeling of impending dread that gnawed at him, but as he looked into Diana's eyes, a sense of calm washed over him.

He didn't know what tomorrow would bring, but one thing was certain: he loved her.

And that was enough.