Hell Froze Over*Avengers*Captain America*Reader*

11) The (only) solution

Warnings? Angst. Omg, so much angst. Aka the present.

Please, don't kill me. I'm not in a good place right now, but not that much of a bad place either.

-.-.-.-

Steve was pissed. Like really, incredibly pissed, and what was worse, disappointed and betrayed – mostly ignoring the fact that there was his child from the future in front of him, stubbornly focused on the little detail of you knowing you would die and not sharing it with him.

He mercilessly shook you awake and you jolted on the bed, horrified what had happened, only to find Steve's blues burning a hole into you with his glare.

"What's going on? What's wrong? Are you okay?!" you blurted out, quickly scanning the room, looking for any danger.

You only found Wanda and Grace there, standing few feet from your shared bed; Wanda was smirking, while Grace was biting her lip nervously, seemingly guilty.

A horror squeezed your heart, still feeling Steve's glare, not to mention his surprisingly strong grip on your wrist under the mess of covers. You gulped against the impossibly large lump in your throat, your pulse hammering in your temples.

No, no, no, they wouldn't, they couldn't— fucking shit, they so totally did.

"Oh no... what did you do?" you whispered, Steve's hold on you getting honestly painful.

"The better question is... what the fuck did you think you were doing?"

Well. You really didn't have the answer for Steve's question, did you?

---

Steve had insisted he hadn't needed the monitors anymore. You had had no clue if it was the adrenalin from the big revelation, but he had indeed seemed in full strength and determined to have a shout-match he would definitely win.

Most of the others, while sharing his sentiment, were less hot-headed.

You all gathered in the common room to resolve the final problem – your death or your survival and its effect on the universe. Which sounded insane, but somehow was a real issue.

Natasha, Sam, Wanda, Bucky and Steve were over hundred percent sure you needed to be saved at any cost.

Bruce, Tony, Clint, Vision and... well, you, were in for your death, no matter how much you all hated it.

Of course, Grace was torn, but having explained the possible consequences too many times before time-travelling to her, she was siding with you.

And the fight – while Sam was gracefully calling it a discussion – was now going for ages and you had enough. You were exhausted from fighting for something you didn't want to happen, but unlike some of your friends knew that in fact had to happen.

"I'm sorry, but do I have to remind you the last time someone wanted to change the will of the universe to their own purpose? Because I will. Half of the population got erased," you said slowly, barely keeping your voice somehow levelled. "I'm not the only that lived through being turned into ash, so please, remember how it felt. Anything like this happening again? Not something I want on my conscience."

Steve's eyes watched you, glassy, a sea of emotions, deep and dangerous. Full of rage and determination, yet sad and desperate. He didn't want to give in. Everything was screaming at him that you were right, that they— that they simply had to let it happen, because the last time he had refused to sacrifice one life in exchange for many more, what you described had happened. Even when they managed to mostly reverse it, the scars left on their souls were very deep.