Avengers/MCU Oneshots

Carry On (Steve Rogers)

I need to stop writing songfics. They're just so good for ideas... (The song is Carry On by Fun.) Naturally, there are verses that have been cut to make more sense. At 3,231 words, this is one of the longest things I've ever written! Let me put it this way: it's usually equal to three of my oneshots combined.

///////////////////////////////////

'Well, I woke up to the sound of silence. The cars were cutting like knives in a fistfight. And I found you... your head in the curtains and heart like the Fourth of July.

'You swore and said, "We are not, we are not shining stars.' This I know. I never said we are. Though I'd never been through hell like that, I've closed enough windows to know you can never look back.'

Steve woke up in the middle of the night. Usually whenever that happened, he had had a nightmare. But this time it wasn't. Something just felt wrong.

He stood up, letting his feet lead him to wherever they needed to go. He found one of the new recruits- and youngest Avenger by a long shot- Wanda Maximoff sitting in a chair in front of a window, staring out at the sky.

"Hey, Captain," She said, not even glancing back. She had probably sensed him there.

"Hey, Wanda. And for the hundredth time, you can call me Steve or Cap, just like everyone else."

"But I'm not everyone else," She grumbled.

Steve sat in an empty chair across from her. "Why not?"

"You know good and well why."

"Wanda," He shook his head. "If this has anything to do with having tried to kill us, it's nothing you need to worry about. Trust me on this one. The whole reason Natasha's even here is because Clint was sent to kill her, but decided she deserved a second chance. No one cares what you did, or tried to do. What matters is what you are ashamed of doing."

"I do feel bad about trying to kill you. Still can't say that I'm ashamed of showing Tony his worst nightmare. I actually rather enjoyed that."

Steve cracked a smile. "Well, I do stress that while you probably shouldn't mention that to anyone outside of the team, I do want to know why you hate Tony so much. I know one of his weapons was involved in your parents deaths, but I don't know any details."

"That's because I don't like talking about it. I've only told Clint, and made him swear not to tell anyone. Same goes for you. I'll tell people when I'm ready."

"Alright."

"One night, when Pietro-" Her voice caught, she was definitely still heavily grieving her brother- "And I were around ten years old, we were playing in our room with our toys. I don't remember what toys, or what game. I remember there wasn't much room for us to play, because our bedroom was so small. Our parents couldn't afford anyplace with a bigger room for us. In fact, it was one of only two real rooms, unless you count the bathroom. Pietro and I even shared a bed. It was a big bed, but still just one.

"I remember our mother calling us for dinner. She had made chocolate babka for dessert, Pietro's and my favorite. Throughout the entire meal, Pietro and I kept eyeing the bread, which was making Máma and Táta scold us, but they were laughing.

"I moved my fork to take the last bite of my food when there was suddenly this loud, awful screeching noise." She got a distant look in her eyes. "Táta yelled at us to get under the bed. I didn't process it fast enough, but Pietro did. He managed to get us under our parents' bed, and then the first bomb hit the floor below us and exploded. A sinkhole opened up in the floor. Our parents fell in. They never came back up." A tear slid down her cheek.