Steve Rogers/Captain America One Shots

Ashes

(Listen to Ashes by: Celine Dion while you read this one. Not only is it a beautiful and powerful song that can really strike you deep, but I think it lends a certain level of angst and emotion to this one shot.)

It was the longest plane ride Steve Rogers had ever experienced in his life. It was as though the ship had been sucked into a wormhole, and seemed to spin endlessly, lost among the clouds. He could see the blue around him in the sky passing by, and yet it felt as though they weren't moving at all. Like time was standing still inside the small aircraft. It was more spacious now, the seats around him left vacant and cold. For when they arrived in Wakanda, they had more company on board. And now, as they left, heading home to the compound, it was emptier. It echoed with the ghosts of the gone, haunting the passengers that were still alive. They had lost, and it showed. 

A hand rested against Steve's stiff shoulder, and he lifted his head slowly at the touch. Already knowing who it belonged to before even looking back at her. There was something strong about her presence, something that screamed her name out loud to him whenever she stood beside him. And there was a sliver of comfort in that. 

"I'm sorry Steve."

Natasha's voice was hushed, as she murmured the saddened condolence under her soft breath. And Steve squeezed his eyes closed as her words hit his ears. He could see them, behind the blackness of his eyelids. He could see their faces as they faded to dust, just another grain of sand along the forest floor. Forgotten. 

Releasing a heavy sigh, Steve opens his strained eyes and runs a hand over the thick beard that covered his jawline. Natasha knew better than to ask him if he was alright, or if there was anything that she could do. Because what could she, and who was? Nothing was right, and there was nothing anyone could do to make it better in this moment. No words could be said to heal the hurt upon all of their still somehow beating hearts. No amount of sympathy could bring the dead back to life. And Nat wasn't naïve enough to even attempt, and Steve appreciated it. 

How does one comfort someone, after they watched their best friend descend to nothing more than ash, as though they had never existed to begin with? Steve shook his head softly, as though the motion could erase the burdening visions of Bucky fading in front of him. And releasing another sigh from deep within his tightly clenched chest, Steve looked down at his hands. They were covered in bruises and the muscles and tendons swollen beneath his flesh ached, but it wasn't the pain and the dried blood that made it hard to look at them. It was the sensation, of his friends dust floating through his fingers, that made his blood run cold. 

"I'm just glad she wasn't there."

It was the only thing he could think of to say to break through the thickly growing void of silence, for it was the only other thought running through his mind. However, it didn't bring him much comfort, as Steve hadn't the slightest idea if she had even survived Thanos's snap where she was, back at the compound. But he had to believe she was there waiting for him, because with the loss already threatening to destroy him, he couldn't add the image of her disappearing body to the haunting scrapbook in his head. 

"She's going to be there," Nat whispered softly, and he felt a chill of air rush against his shoulder as she retracted her hand. 

And Steve looked upward, at the now blonde woman, who was beginning to walk away just as his blue eyes rose. It was the first time he had ever heard her say something other than the brazen truth. Sure, she lied about who she was and what she did a majority of the time, but that was her job. That was the life she lived. But she never lied when it came to the reality and likelihood of a situation. She faced the odds and never shied away from them. But here she was, sparing him the pain of the truth that he might come back to a pile of dust at his feet. Allowing a tiny white lie to fall from her slightly swollen lips. 

Steve's body felt heavy, weighed down as though he carried the weight of a hundred men upon his aching shoulders. And each step up the stairs, as the darkness of night surrounded them back home, burned with screams for him to stop moving. Reaching his right hand outward towards the smooth silver railing, his fingers gripped the metal until his cut and bruised knuckles turned white. Looking out at the land that stretched around the compound, he gazed out at the sky that was nothing more than a blanket of black. There were no stars that night, it was like they had all burned out. And it left the earth in an unnerving darkness that seemed to be deeper than just a sight. It was as though you could feel the darkness, radiating through your own body. The loss of the world crushing all the souls who still walked it. 

"Steve," Natasha's voice suddenly flowed through his ear piece, and her voice pricked his heart like a needle to a vein. "you need to get in here."

She didn't even need to say her name, Steve already knew. For it could feel it, as though a part of himself was beginning to fade along with her. Natasha's words brought goosebumps to cover his bruised and battered skin, and he felt the shiver soaring down his aching spine. And as his feet picked up their pace, until his boots hit the metal stairs with heavy running steps, he could feel as his stomach collected his heart that sunk down through his heaving chest. He couldn't breathe as he pushed the door open with conviction that made it bang against the wall. And it wasn't until his tired eyes fell upon the single sight that brought his spinning mind to a skidding halt.   

She adorned his clothing, as she did so often, and usually it would've brought a warming smile to his lips. But nothing in this moment, could take the anguished frown from his trembling lips. 

"She was coming to find you," Bruce explained softly to Steve as he ventured closer to her. 

Her hands clutched the table in front of her, but he could still see her swaying on her uneven balance. Her face was pale, as though the color had been completely drained from her body. And Steve could see the way she struggled to breathe. Her eyes blinking wildly as though she had to think through every inhale she took of thin and weakly breathed in air.

Steve rushed forward, and gently removed her hands from the table. Lifting her arms up until they wrapped weakly around his neck, and he used all his strength to keep her standing up in his stable embrace. Her eyes fluttered up to meet his troubled gaze, and it was like watching a flame begin to flicker out. The light in her once bright eyes growing lesser and lesser by the passing milliseconds. And he could feel his body beginning to shake slightly, but he willed himself to stay steady for her sake. 

"Steve?" She choked on the words as though poison suffocating her throat. "What's happening?"

Steve's lips parted and yet no words flowed through them. He stared at the woman he loved with tears piecing his blue eyes, as he felt her body shake violently in his arms, with nothing to say. He had seen it too many times already today, to think that this would end up any different than it did for the others. He knew what was happening to her, and for that reason, there was nothing Steve Rogers could muster up to say to answer her fearful inquiry. 

"I'm so sorry." He breathed out, as he felt the tears burning in the back of his throat. He felt like he was choking right alongside her, desperate for each breath as he stared intently into her diming eyes. And cradling her face gently in his shaky hand, he felt her smooth skin for the last time. 

It was like a cold December wind brushing against his bare neck, as her arm began to vanish to dust against his suit. And he watched the fear in her eyes with the same mirroring pain.

"I love you." He whispered as he felt her face in his hand dissipate slowly. Watching as the woman he loved so dearly, began to vanish to nothing in front of him and in his very hands, and there wasn't a thing he could do to stop it. 

He dropped as the last of her ashes fluttered to the ground, his knees hitting the floor with a bang that radiated throughout his body, with a power that rattled his bones. And his trembling fingers, that had gone numb so long ago, swam through the pile of dust that she had been reduced to. Her entire life, her entire being, everything that made her who she was... was now nothing more than a pile of dust beneath Steve Rogers's hands. 

Natasha had been right... she was here. And Steve had returned home just in time to lose her.

A/N: Wow, this one hurt! I really wanted this one to be a punch to the gut, and I think I've achieved that. I wanted to create a real deep feeling of loss and failure and grief in this one shot, and as I read it back to myself, I'm very proud of what I've come up with. It's short and simple but I still feel I was able to pack a lot into it. I hope you all enjoyed it.❤