In Your Eyes // Steve Rogers

Rare Sense of Belonging

Steve and I found ourselves happy, for a while. We spent our honeymoon between Alaska and Hawaii. We had both never been to the disconnected states and decided what better time to do it than the present. He wanted the warmth, I wanted the cold, and so we did both. We saw whales and swam in the bright blue ocean. We watched the Iditarod Race and the untouched landscapes of Alaska. We kept each other warm and simultaneously tried to cool each other.  

When we returned home, we found ourselves with a garden instead and with a few stray cats who found a place to eat with us. There were countless nights we spent making each other laugh, nights we cooked, nights I taught him duets on the piano, nights we danced around the kitchen, and days we laid in bed for most of the day and decided to not get up because we were together. We found his booklet of things to catch up on in a drawer at some point and decided to catch up on movies and listen to some soundtracks.

In a sense, we became selfish. So caught in the idea of finally being able to be together and pleasing ourselves that I forgot a while of my past life. I forgot I was an Avenger, that I was Agamotto. I had Steve, finally, and he was hope.

We had duties at home that kept us busy and we had time to spend leisurely. It was domestic. There were times we spoke about how strange to do nothing. There wasn't much crime anymore. No big baddies to fight. There was peace In the world, as the grief overtook it. Steve and I would both be lying if we had said sometimes we felt guilty getting our makeshift happy ending. 

Then, it happened. The subsequent times that Steve and I decided to have sex brought us a pregnancy scare. It was unexpected. We drove to the Doctor because of my consistent nausea and fatigue that just didn't exactly line up with just grieving anymore. 

I would never forget the look on his face when he thought about us having a child. It was then, looking at the hope in his eyes, that I realized he had buried this wish domestic life for the greater good. He wanted this. I didn't. 

I would never tell him I didn't want to be a mother. As we sat at the doctor's office, I sat and stared at my hands. Steve said nothing. I felt his eyes on me and I couldn't bring myself to look at him in the eyes.

The door opened. We were greeted by the woman. I listened, but as soon as I heard, "...I'm afraid I do have to tell you you're not pregnant..." I tuned out. I glanced to Steve and watched his entire form slouch, his face became solemn. 

When we left and we returned home, it was Steve who left me to sit on the dock. I left him alone for a long while until I approached him and sat next to him. We didn't look at one another. 

"You don't want them," he said, at last. 

"I wouldn't say..." I started, but Steve looked at me and I stopped and thought about my words before I continued. "You and I were never meant to be here." 

Steve nodded. "And you're right. I was supposed to be in the past, chasing the fight. You were supposed to be up in the stars. But I lost everyone. Everyone but you. And you lost everyone except me. You said it yourself. We were left for a reason. What if it's to get the life we never had?"

"And what happens if you're wrong?" I wondered before I could hold my tongue. It was then where I was forced to divulge on the dark thoughts that haunted my happiness, the thoughts I had in my mind.  "What if this is Strange's possibility?"

He huffed. "Clara, it's been four years."

"And you're giving up hope?" I asked him. I shook my head at him. "I like where we are. I love you and I, I love living out a life with you, but I've never seen myself with children. I never had a thought in my mind about being a mother."