#even sam cannot fathom the guilt you carry
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I'm thinking about Frodo after his return from Mt Doom. I'm thinking of what he thought about in his sleepless nights, back in Bag End. Of how often his thoughts went back to that day, that moment, when he failed to cast the ring into the fire. If he ever realized that he did everything he could, everything anybody in his position could have done. Or, if he keeps it to himself like a dirty secret, like a sin; the fact that the ring was unmade not because of him, but of the domino effect of Gollum's survival. And when he recalls Gollum, I wonder if he sees him as the actual force of good in his story, or perhaps, the victim of his own weakness to the ring. I wonder if he wonders about an alternative sequence of events where Sméagol survived, and if his death is something he carries like a stigma. If sometimes the weight of the dead crushes him. If he averts his eyes in shame when the other members of the fellowship mention his fortitude, because the shadow of doubt instilled in him by the ring is ever-present, long after its demise. I wonder if he reenacts that fatidic day in his mind, and tries to get glimpses of how he could have acted in a way that did not leave him so diminished and broken. I'm thinking about Frodo.
#something something you're loved you're the hero but no one knows what you know#even sam cannot fathom the guilt you carry#and there's no answer to how you're supposed to heal and move on#you ask gandalf and he can only give you silence#and you live like that for four years trying to find a way back to your old life and your old self#you're so alone you have to leave the ones who love you in the end#frodo baggins wee hours#frodo baggins#lotr#lord of the rings
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Crossroads

Answer to Lexi’s 1k @the-omni-princess Challenge! Congrats!
Pairings: Steve Rogers x Reader; some Steve x Peggy; very Steve-centric
Warnings: ANGST and loads of it!
Author’s note: This is my AU of Steve’s final Pym jump from End Game
____________________
The silence reminded him of the nights during the War. After the raging battle, even the animals and bugs refused to reveal their whereabouts. Although tonight he wondered if even the forest mourned Tony Stark. Steve Rogers sat alone in the middle of a glade not too far from the cabin Tony had called home. He tried to sleep, attempted to rid himself of the bone-weary exhaustion, but his mind would not shut down.
He knew everyone assumed his withdrawal, his moodiness and pain, stemmed from the battle and loss. A part of him felt immense guilt that they should be right, but they weren’t. After all these years of war on various scales, he felt the pain of loss differently. It just was a fact of life.
What spun his mind into a maelstrom of conflicted thoughts, tore his gut up with guilt, was something completely personal. Every option his highly strategical brain considered ended in pain and suffering for people he loved. Every option terrified him.
He’d seen Peggy.
It’d only been a moment, but seeing her young and vibrant sent his world spiraling. She wasn’t ravaged by age and Alzheimer's. As strong and lovely as the picture he carried with him, but in the flesh. Every missed opportunity and regret hit him all at once. It pulled at his heart, making him want to hold her like the awful pain of the years never happened.
The threat of Thanos did allow him to think about it. So, it just took up residence in mind.
Then there was the battle.
Those once lost were back. Sam in his ear. Bucky fought his way to his side.
He’d seen you.
Among the chaos, with your beautiful face set in grime determination, he caught a glimpse of you battling your way through the aliens. Fierce and powerful, you looked exactly the way you had the day he’d lost you in Wakanda. All the nights of passion, the solace and trust found in one another, lit his chest. Seeing you made him fight harder, renewed his strength.
The war was won. Friends were lost. Bodies were battered. Steve found himself holding you, but unable to do much more. Those who were lost tried to fathom being gone for so many years, to comprehend the changes to the world. You clung to him and wept. He’d missed you. He felt such relief having you in his arms.
Guilt ate him alive.
“You look like you’re planning all kinds of stupid.” Bucky’s voice came out of nowhere, making Steve jump.
“I’m just thinking.” Steve sighed.
“Like I said, stupid.” Bucky sat down on the log next to him so close their thighs touched.
Steve laughed without any humor. He felt tears push against the back of his eyes. Bucky’s arm wrapped around his shoulder. His head fell forward into his hands. He was exhausted.
“Rhodes filled me in on a few things.” Bucky squeezed his buddy’s shoulder. “Sounds rough, particularly for you and Natasha.”
“God. Nat.” Steve choked. He looked up at the stars, sniffing back reluctant tears. “I am so tired, Buck. I don’t have any fight left me. None.”
Something inside Bucky crumbled. He knew Steve meant it. That kid who got up time and time again after getting his ass beat, ready to go again because it was the right thing to do finally couldn’t. He just nodded, squeezing his friend tighter, not trusting his own voice.
“Part of me just wants to go back to a simpler time, make different choices.” Steve whispered, hating himself a little for saying it. “Not take on the fight, not take on the pain, and just live a simple life.”
“Yeah,” Bucky cleared his tight throat. “Although even when we were kids, things weren’t so simple.”
A long silence stretched before Steve moved away a little. “Not talking about when we were kids. I mean actually going back.”
Bucky froze. No.
Steve glanced at his friend, the hurt look staring back doubled the guilt eating away at his gut. “I saw her, Buck. Peggy.” He returned his focus to the stars. “I never stopped loving her.”
Torn between wanting to hit him and wanting to shake him, Bucky stood up. He paced, stopped, and paced some more. Steve stared at his hands in silence. Finally, Bucky stopped in front of him. His words were tight, ground out through clenched teeth. “Never mind me, or Sam, or anyone else on the team... what about Y/N? You don’t love her anymore?”
“Of course, I love her.” Steve’s face crumbled.
“So you’re just going to abandon her?” Bucky snapped.
“She’s strong, a fighter...”
Buck cut him off. “Yeah and Carter was always such a pushover.”
Steve pushed his hands through his hair. His voice broke, cracked with pain and exhaustion. “I can’t do it anymore. Bucky, please. I can’t fight anymore battles. I don’t have it in me. I’ve given up my whole life for everyone else. Always. I just...” A sob ripped free, and he stuffed his fist in his mouth.
“Pal,” Bucky put his hand on Steve’s head. “If anyone deserves to have a happy ending, it’s you.” Tears of his own slipped down his face. “You know I have your back, no matter what. If never seeing you again means that you’ll be able to have a happy life, then there’s no way I would hold you back. I’d hate it, but it would be worth it if I knew you were happy.”
“Buck.” Steve sniffed. “I don’t mean to...”
“Just be sure before you tell Y/N. I mean be absolutely positive.” Bucky’s face went hard. “Don’t break her heart and then change your mind. I swear I will break your neck.”
“What if I don’t know?” Steve whispered.
“Then don’t say anything to anyone.” Bucky sighed. “If you don’t come back, then I’ll explain it.”
“I can’t ask you to do that.”
“You’re not. I’m telling you, that’s how it should go.”
“Buck,” Steve stood. They embraced, hugging tight. “Love you, punk.”
“You too, jerk.” Bucky squeezed him hard, praying to whatever powers that be that he would not have to tell everyone who loved Steve too that he would never be coming home.
__________________________
“Don’t do anything stupid ‘til I get back” Steve tried to smile. ‘I still don’t know. Don’t say anything.’
“How can I? You’re taking all the stupid with you.” Bucky forced a smile, too. ‘Be sure, whatever you do.’
Steve stepped up on the platform. The first jump would take him to Asgard.
Thor gave him very specific instructions on how to return the Aether. Steve chuckled when Thor told him to put the hammer down anywhere, but on a window sill would be best... less damage to the building when he called it.
He arrived in a cavernous hall, surrounded by stone and gold. Unfamiliar scents filled the air, pleasant and rich, but he could not place them. Steve heard footsteps and ducked behind a corner. The person stopped close. He waited, silent.
“You must be a very close friend of my son’s.” A woman spoke. “Come out. I won’t raise the alarm.”
Steve cautiously stepped into the open. She was regal in every sense of the word. “Why not?”
“You are able to wield Mjolnir. It’s no small feat.” She smiled gently. “He was here earlier. The future is not going to be kind to Thor.”
He swallowed, taking a deep breath. Thor confessed to him privately he’d seen Frigga. Now seeing her for himself, Steve understood why. He didn’t even know her and he wanted to tell her everything even if he knew he couldn’t. She just radiated a calm, a peace he wanted to drown in.
“It’s not kind to any of us.” Steve sighed. “I have to return this to Dr. Foster. I don’t want to, but I can’t risk not doing it.”
“Alright.” She smiled sadly. “Let me see what I can do to help. Follow me.”
He did, without question.
“I don’t want to know what is going to happen, what has happened to you. It has something to do with the Infinity Stones, though doesn’t it?” Frigga glanced sideways at Steve. His jaw clenched. She slipped her hand into his elbow and grinned when his arm instinctively came up to properly escort her. “Did my son tell you anything of my power, my upbringing?”
“Thor say you’re the kindest and wisest person he’s ever known.” Steve answered. “You taught Loki much of his magic and that you see things, the truth of things.”
“That’s one way of putting it. I can follow of the strings of destiny.” She patted his bicep. “I can tell that you, like my son, stand at a crossroads. Perhaps the most important one of your life, because this one is a decision all your own. I don’t know what, but I know it’s deeply personal and profoundly painful.”
Steve stopped, staring wide eyed into her calm face.
“I find when I cannot unravel the answer, I lean on wise counsel.” Frigga led him on. “I may not be the best counsel for you. There is an Ancient One more familiar with your ways that is close to where you call home. Before you do anything else, I would seek out her.”
Steve’s mind jumped to the encounter Banner told him about with the woman who gave him the Time Stone. “Do you know her?”
“No, not personally.” Frigga smiled. “But she protects not just Midgard but all of Yggdrasil. Those of us with the ability definitely know of her.”
They stopped before a large door ornately carved. “Give me a few moments, then come in.”
Steve waited, listening intently. Nothing but the distant sounds of the city reached his ears. Finally he pushed open the door, peering inside. Frigga stood over the sleeping form of Jane. She waved him over assuring him that the little mortal would not feel a thing, nor would she remember. He felt a little sick when he injected the Aether back into Foster.
He stood back, staring into Frigga’s kind eyes before deciding to change his plans. Reprogramming the controls for the jump to take him to New York instead of Morag. Extending a hand, Steve took her small hand in his. “Thank you, for everything.”
“When you see my son, tell him to take care of himself.” She pulled him close and kissed his cheek. “Take care of yourself, too.”
Steve nodded, unsure how he would do it, but willing to try. He stepped back and pressed the button.
________________________
The jump dropped him on the roof of a building. He looked around, seeing the Chitauri battle not far away. His stomach dropped, the memories of the losses still keen. Another day when everything changed. A battle won, but the world’s innocence died. Aliens were real, and they were as bad as people ever imagined.
“It seems as if Dr. Banner was true to his word.” A calm voice spoke.
“I’ve come to return the stone to you.” Steve turned to see a small, bald woman in eastern clothing. Although nothing like the Norse Goddess, she radiated a similar calm...a powerful presence, like a monolith unmoving among the storm.
With a wave of her hands, the green stone rose from its container and return to its home in the Eye hanging around her neck.
“Captain,” She stared at him in a manner that left him feel exposed. “Walk with me.”
She turned, entering the building. Steve followed. Inside the temperature dropped, not uncomfortably. The dim light reflected off the well-polished wood. Cases held artifacts and books lined the shelves. The air smelled spicy, like raw incense.
“Time is an interesting thing. It is complex.” She spoke melodically as she wove through the glass cases. “It is linear, yet not. It is set, yet holds immeasurable permutations. What is not complex is our journey through it. With every moment, every experience, we change. We incorporate all that we learn as time passes, yet if we move through time we do not unlearn what we know.”
Steve felt his brow pull together. “I suppose we are all molded by our experiences.”
She paused at an hourglass, looking at sands drop a few at a time. “I think you are looking to unlearn what time has taught you. I’m afraid you cannot dial back who you are as easily as rolling back the hands of a clock. Somethings are too powerful to unmake, some threads of who we are cannot be broken.”
“Why are you telling me this?” Steve frowned. He just wanted to rest, to have his turn to be happy.
“You are tired, Captain.” She stepped closer, arms folded behind her back. For all of the intensity, she looked upon him kindly. “We often cannot see clearly through weary eyes.”
His eyes closed, feeling the burn of frustrated tears again. Steve ground his teeth together. “I am.” He sighed. “And I have a lot more to do before my mission is complete.”
“I would offer you safe place to rest, but I don’t think you will accept.” The edge of her mouth tipped up with a hint of a smile.
“No.” Steve took a deep breath. “I have a long way to go.”
“Very well,” she led him to a large round window where they could see the battle raging in the distance. Turning, she placed a hand on his chest over his heart. “You are a good man, Steve. Through trials and strife, you have remained true to yourself. What’s more, you have evolved. You’ve grown.” A calm smile spread across her face. “Like so many things in the universe, the more you grow, the more you realize how small you are. The more you know, the more you realize you have yet to learn. It can be burdensome, exhausting. But it can also be an exhilarating adventure if we can see it through fresh eyes.”
Steve knew he should be contemplating her words more deeply. He knew he should heed Frigga’s words and seek this woman’s counsel. However, it just caused the pain in his head to increase. He didn’t want to consider the cryptic meaning behind this woman’s words. He wanted to fold Peggy in his arms, in a simpler place, in a simpler time, and just sleep for days.
The strange woman stared at him, making him feel like she could see straight through him to question his inner most desire without ever saying a word. A defensive urge surged, but he fought it back. Strange called her the Ancient One. Frigga said she defended the world on this plain and others. Getting defensive over her stare, especially when he carried so much doubt was foolish.
That small smile touched her lips again. “Be well, Steve. May your path eventually lead you to happiness.”
Steve stared out the window at the battle once more, another memory rising to the surface. Out there, among the populace running for their lives, you were helping Clint after he crashed through a window. You helped him evacuate the building and fight off invaders. It was the turning point that brought you into his life. It was the day you decided to give up your job at the FBI to join the Avengers Initiative.
Guilt twisted his insides, and he choked out “thanks” before turning to leave. He had to return the scepter to Stark Tower. He stopped when she called out his name once more.
“At least allow me to help you get to your next destination safely." She held out one hand and formed a circle with the other. A portal opened.
He could see the corner of the elevator banks in the lobby of Stark Tower. Steve’s mouth opened slightly. Did this woman really know what he was thinking? It was exactly where he wanted to intercept the Hydra Agents. “Thank...thank you.”
She gave him a nod, and he stepped through.
_______________________
Returning the Power Stone turned out to be thankfully uneventful. Steve hoped, as he climbed the mountainside on the Vormir, that the Soul Stone would be equally quiet. He did not see anyone. All of the intelligence proved out, no cities or even life forms to be seen.
“I never thought I would see you again.”
Steve brought his shield up, shooting with the other hand. The black clad figure only looked down at himself, unmoved as if the bullets passed straight through. Johann Schmidt laughed, red skulled face cracking in a grotesque mirth.
“Captain.” He held out both hands. “You cannot kill me. I’m already in purgatory.”
“What?” Steve didn’t relax his stance.
“I made the mistake of trying to control a Stone and have been paying the price.”
“You’re...” Steve swallowed past the vice grip around his throat. Clint’s words echoing in his mind about the red floating guy who made them choose. “You were here when Natasha sacrificed herself for the Soul Stone.”
“Yes. A soul for a soul.”
“I’ve brought it back.” Steve strode forward, fury growing with each step. “I want her back.”
“Ah. Interesting.” Schmidt’s red face tilted sideways, studying him. “Her soul would have worked for you as well.”
“A soul for a soul. That’s what you said.” Steve growled. “I want her back.”
“Yes, because you are tied to her, returning the stone will release her.”
Steve gasped.
“Though not the way you wish, I think.”
Cap tried to grab him but got a fist full of black mist. “What do you mean?”
“If you return the stone, her soul will return to your life somehow, though not in the form you knew.”
“Like, what? Reincarnation?” Steve frowned.
“No. Yes.” Schmidt shrugged. “The souls that weave together over time touch and change over lifetimes. If you return the stone, her soul will be free to join the tapestry again.”
“How?”
“Throw it into the abyss.” The black spectral hand pointed to the edge.
Steve approached the edge, acutely aware this was the last place Natasha was alive. His breath grew shallow. The pain of her loss stabbed his chest. He never properly mourned Nat, his sister in every way but blood. He trusted her, loved her, would never be the same without her.
Finding himself looking down into a deep chasm, the bottom obscured by black fog, Steve threw the stone. He gave a silent prayer that she would be free, would touch his life again. As the stone disappeared, a golden orange shaft of light shot skyward. Brilliant, like the burning of the setting sun over the desert. The light spread radiating heat. Then vanished.
Steve looked down to see a solid stone floor far below in the chasm. He stepped back from the edge with a sharp intake of breath. Then it hit him. Faint, but undeniable, Steve could smell her. He closed his eyes and breathed deep. Natasha. Another breath and it was gone.
He turned around, remembering Schmidt, but didn’t see him anywhere. Perhaps it was true. Perhaps Nat’s soul was free and that somehow, someway, it would touch his again. The thought brought a little bit of warmth back.
There was only one stone left to return. Steve set the controls for New Jersey 1970.
______________________
Returning the Tesseract was simple now that Steve knew his way around the secure sections of the Army base. He made his way through the halls towards Peggy’s office, nerves moving him forward, but having no idea what he would say. The lights inside the office were office, creating both a surge of anxiety and relief.
Making certain no one noticed, he slipped inside. In the dim light he saw the photo of himself on the desk. Not after the procedure, but from when they’d first met. It warmed his heart that this was the version of himself she chose to remember.
He set it back down and looked around... and froze.
He did not notice the far wall last time. It was full of framed photographs and certificates. A large photo of Peggy and her family held a place of honor in the center. Her husband was a kind looking man, her children were beautiful. They looked to be young teens in the photo.
Another photo showed her and her daughter when she was a baby. Another of her son in his little league gear. Peggy and her husband stood beside Howard Stark and John F. Kennedy in one picture.
Certificate and diplomas memorializing Peggy’s hard work and advancement were presented side by side with her family. She showed everyone she could fight the good fight and what she was fighting for...all on one wall of photographs.
All the memories Peggy told him about.
Steve found himself sliding to the floor, back against a file cabinet and hand squeezed tightly over his mouth. He wanted to scream. All her hard work, everything Peggy did for the world, and he hadn’t even considered it. She wouldn’t give up. If he showed up in 1945, she wouldn’t understand wanting to hide from the world. Even if she agreed, she would never do any of these things.
His eyes locked closed as he fought back a sob. It was all a foolish dream. There was no going back. The Ancient One spoke the truth. He may be able to go back in time, but he can’t undo what time did to him. He was not the naive soldier Peggy knew. Steve choked. He felt battered, and bitter, far too cynical to even pretend to be that man again.
Still, every fiber in his being screamed to hold her. The tears she shed every time he visited her in the nursing home killed him a little bit. He wanted his dance.
Turning to the filing cabinet at his back, Steve quietly dug through the files until he found what he needed. An old address and an old date.
_______________________
Steve reached the house just as the sun went down. The curtains were open and he could see Peggy moving back and forth from the living room to the kitchen. His palms were sweating. A brand new 1947 Buick drove by as he crossed the street to the front steps. His heart pounded so hard he could hear it in his ears as he knocked on the door.
Peggy answered with a smile, but her eyes went huge and filled with tears. Her hand covered her mouth.
“Hey, Doll.” Steve reached out, taking her by the elbow and stepping inside. “It’s okay.”
“St-Steve.” Peggy breathed. He nodded. Her hand came out and touched his chest, his face. Tears fell. She stepped forward and he wrapped his arms around her.
Steve sighed, holding her closed, breathing her in. Some deep empty gash began to stitch closed. They stood there for a long time before Peggy’s curiosity grew. “How?”
“We need to talk.” Steve’s fingers traced over her back. “Can I – Can I just hold you for a minute more?”
She nodded against his chest.
“I’m going to tell you something that’s pretty hard to believe.” Steve buried his face in her hair. “And I’m going to ask you to never tell anyone about it. Ever.”
“Steve,” She gave a tearful chuckle. “You’re back from the dead. You’ve got hard to believe covered.”
He pulled back, cupping her face in one large hand. Steve’s mouth covered hers, soft and sweet. Tentative, Peggy kissed him slowly. He found himself instantly conflicted. Relishing in the simple kiss, one he only dreamed of having, he simultaneously missed the ravenous intensity of the kisses he shared with you.
“How? Steve? What happened?” Peggy pushed back.
“Best we sit down.” Steve led her to the sofa. He took her hands in his.
Steve didn’t know where to start. He’d thought about it, considered all the best options, but there still did not seem like any good options. He turned to face Peggy more directly. His brows drew together.
“What happened after the crash?” Peggy asked.
“I was frozen... for about 70 years.” Steve stared at their joined hands.
“What?” She breathed.
“I’m - I’ve come back from, well, a long time from now.” Steve looked into her wide eyes. “I can’t explain how. I shouldn’t even be here. I just had to...” He bit back his words, fighting to control himself.
Peggy let out a slow breath. “That means... oh Steve. It would be a completely different world. Everyone you know. I’m so sorry.”
“No,” He shook his head. “I, um, found friends...people that became like family. But everything is so...” Steve’s face pinched, tears threatening to fall. He whispered. “I just really missed... I wanted to have that dance.”
Her hand ghosted over his face and he opened his eyes. “What happened? I’ve never seen you look so...”
Tears fell as he finished for her. “Tired. I’m tired, Peggy. I’ve fought, and fought, and I don’t think I can do it anymore. I’ve seen things, battled things, that make the Nazis look like pussycats. There’s no more clear right and wrong. There’s no more good answers.”
“Stevie.” Tears fell down her cheeks matching his. Her fingers stroked through his hair. “I’m so sorry. But if you have this ability, this technology, then can you keep these things from happening?” She watched him shake his head. “Too easy, huh? What about your friends?”
“Lost some of the best. Nat, Tony.” Steve’s face crumpled. “Tony is, was, Howard’s son.”
Peggy’s hand covered her mouth as Steve went on.
“He was brilliant, Peggy. Smarter than Howard ever imagined. He sacrificed everything. Now his little girl...”
“She has you, right?”
Shame flushed fresh over Steve. He’d never even consider Morgan. “Yeah, she has a lot of us. Every one of the Avengers will look out for her.”
“Avengers?”
“Um,” Steve frowned. “We’re a collection of highly skilled, gifted, agents of a sort. We fight the bad guys.”
“And there’s a lot of Avengers.” Peggy asked, still smoothing his hair.
“More that I would have thought possible when we first started.” Steve nodded.
Peggy held his face in her hands. “You are always the one to lay on the wire, to lead the charge. Steve, maybe you need to let your friends fight some battles, too.”
“They do...”
“Steve. Maybe you can let them fight a few without you.” Peggy’s worried expression finally registered in his tired mind. “You don’t always have to be the one leading the charge.”
He closed his eyes, resting his forehead against hers. “Always so smart. You’re going to do amazing things.”
“Don’t tell me.” Peggy placed a finger over his lips. “I want to be surprised.” He sighed. “We’re not going to meet again, are we?”
“You said you want to be surprised.” Steve whispered. His lips trailed over hers again. She pulled back before the kiss could deepen. “Never stopped lovin’ you, though.” He confessed.
“Me too.” Peggy cried. She sniffed. “I should let you know, though, there’s a very good man who wants to marry me.”
Steve sat up a little straighter, wiping his face before give her a smile. “You love him?”
“Yeah,” She wiped her own tears. “Although, I’m making him wait. There’s things I want to do first.”
He laughed. “That’s my girl.”
She laughed as well, taking his hand again. “Even though you’re out there somewhere, and I’m not going to have you in my life,” Peggy swallowed hard, “I’m so happy you’re still alive and have people who care about you.”
Steve stared at her for a long time. “Do you think I could have that dance before I go?”
____________________
You stepped up between Bucky and Sam when Bruce announced that Steve missed the return time. Sam looked confused, but the look on Bucky’s face made your heart sink. He knew something. You took his hand.
“You came?” He asked.
“Tried to get here in time to see him off but I was held up.” You chewed your lower lips. Pulling him away from the others, you dropped your voice. “He was really distracted, hurting, before he left.”
Bucky nodded.
“So was I.” You squeezed his hand harder. “God, Buck, I have the worse feeling. But I don’t know what I’m thinking right now. With everything that happened, learning about what we missed, losing Vis and Nat and Tony. Feeling like shit and now finding out...ugh, I’m just losing my mind right now.” Big tears filled your eyes.
He took you by the shoulders. He did not want to say anything, not yet. Steve just missed the return time a minute ago. “Finding out what, Doll?”
You reached into your back pocket and handed him your phone, a readout open on the screen. He looked it over carefully, twice. You cried as his eyes lifted back to you.
Wrapping you in his arms, Bucky rubbed your back. “Just breath, okay? When did you...”
“Just now. It’s why I’m late.” You held tight to his chest. “I should have done it earlier. What something happens and Steve...”
“Bucky!” Sam shouted.
You both looked up to see Steve walking toward you all from the lake. You felt Bucky take a deep breath. You let out a small sob. He placed his hand at the small of your back. “Come on.”
Sam was just pulling away from a hug when you come closer. Steve looked at you, seeing the tears in your eyes. “Buck?”
“No. She’s got news.”
“Sweetheart,” Steve pulled you closer, thumbing away a tear at the corner of your eye. You pulled him closer to kiss him. Your lips pulling at his lower lip, before your tongue slid along his, drawing a low moan from him. He pulled you close, burying his face in your hair. He whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“What for?” You pulled back some.
“Being an idiot.” He sighed. “A tired, stupid, idiot.”
Steve stood up straighter. “I need to tell you guys something. I’ve been doing a lot of thinking, and I never thought I’d say this but, I’m stepping down.”
“What the – wha?” Sam sputtered.
Steve stepped away from you and gripped Sam’s shoulder. Every bit of anguish showed in his eyes. “I can’t do it, man. Not now. These last years, these battles, just took all I had left. I’ve thought about it.” He held out his shield. “I want you to hold on to this.”
“You’re full of shit.” Sam balked.
“No.” Steve shook his head. “You do what I do, remember? It’s you.”
Sam hefted the shield. Bucky smiled. “Doesn’t look like complete crap.”
“Piss off.” Sam laughed.
“So, what are you going to do, then?” Bucky asked Steve.
“It’s going to take a lot of work to just get things working across the world again. I’d like the Avengers to have a positive impact on the changes without having to resort to something like the accords.” Steve answered thoughtfully. “I think it’s work that would rejuvenate me. I’m tired of breaking things. I’d like to create something instead.”
“Sounds like you’ll be doing a lot of that.” Bucky’s smile spread ear to ear.
“Buck,” You rolled your eyes him as you slipped under Steve’s arm. “Come with me.”
You led Steve back toward the water. He held you close, voice tight. “Sweetheart, I’m really sorry. I’ve been...messed up. I should have been at your side every minute. I know I said it before, but my god, life just fell apart with you gone. Coming back, and everything is different, is such a shock. And it’s only been a few days...”
You stopped, facing him. “Steve, do you really mean you’re stepping down from missions?”
“Yeah, Sweetheart. I’ve got to.”
“Good. Me too.”
Steve’s quizzical look caused you to pull your phone from your back pocket.
“I didn’t make when you left out for your mission, because I was having this rerun. I didn’t think it was possible, but the test is conclusive.” You handed him the report.
Fresh tears filled Steve eyes, these washed away his pain and filled him with joy. He read the words again and again, pregnancy: positive. A bright smile met your own, he breathed out in awe. “I’m going to be a dad.”
You nodded as he swept you up in his arms and spun you around. He kissed you deeply, thoroughly. Finally, smiling against your lips, Steve said. “Love you. Thank you for being there for me, for being here for me. You and this little princess are everything to me.”
“Princess, huh?” You cuddled into him. “Already sure it’s a girl?”
“Just a hunch.” Steve kissed your hair, utterly confident in the turn he’d taken at the crossroad.
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#the-omni-princess1kwritingchallenge#steve rogers x reader#steve rogers fic#steve rogers fanfic#steve rogers fanfiction#captain america fanfiction#steve rogers
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Thoughts On SPN Finale (Both Positive and Negative)
As a fair bit of warning here, this post is going to be a mix of both positives and negatives on the finale. I am happy to agree to disagree about this, okay? So no hate, pls. <3
After letting the finale sit on my mind for a week, spinning between frustration, tears and aching loss, I think I’m finally ready to say something about it. Honestly, with the way that the fandom has been kinda murderous the last few days, I haven’t been brave enough to take the heat yet.
But yeah. Here we are. (This is both a mixed review of kind of 15.19 + 15.20)
Thank you for *giving me a meltdown so we could be here.
Firstly, from the standpoint of a fan, I was satisfied. Sam, Dean, and Cas were given rest. It wasn’t the rest that I’d wanted, but these characters that I have watched struggle with battle after battle for fifteen seasons (or eleven) were finally allowed to sit still and just be. No pressure on them to save the world, no one yanking strings; they are, for the first time in their lives, perfectly safe in a heaven controlled by their adoptive son. Ergo: an environment that will never, never try to backstab them.
Cas wasn’t stuck in the Empty. Jack, who said that he’d be here and there, immediately went and rescued his angel father from the end. The duo can now be happily influencing creation for eternity to come. Cas can, at last, be happy, knowing that by raising Jack, he has atoned for everything. Heaven is fixed, the Winchesters are safe. Cas can rest.
Jack is finally at peace with himself. He has no doubts about his character. He is happy. Jack has always wanted to be good, and he finally has the means to do it widespread. He is a balance of both light and dark with Amara, and he is finally capable of keeping his family and himself safe. Jack can rest.
Sam got a family. Sam was able to be the one thing that he wanted when he was twenty-two: a family. A wife. (Of which I will fight for my dying breath that blurry woman in the background is Eileen.) Stability. The ability to step away from hunting. Sam was able to put himself first. Sam can rest.
Dean was given peace. Dean has always had an incredible guilt complex about leaving hunting. He’s wanted to from as far back as season two, probably before, but he’s never been given a chance to stop. Chuck kept pulling him back in, over and over, because any peace that Dean had the chance to capture was taken from him. Dean was able to stop filling the void from Cas’s death and Jack’s disappearance by not having to hunt anymore. His death was bittersweet, but by being finally forced to stop hunting, Dean Winchester was finally able to rest.
Am I happy that the only way the writers decided to give the characters rest was to kill them? No. But I understand that it was nessercary in the world of SPN that they move on. If they kept hunting, the show would have felt compelled to continue. I think we all knew that the finale was going to be one final sweep of the board to kill everyone.
I am deeply, deeply grateful for the effort that JA and JP put into the final showing of their characters. The performances were very alive and beautiful. I will forever be in awe of Dean’s death. The raw emotions between the two was absolutely gorgeous. I’m not a crier, and there have been very little scenes in SPN that have made me cry, but Cas’s goodbye and Dean and Sam’s were absolute beautiful. MC, JP, and JA gave their all into these characters write offs, and they were momentous.
That said, from a writer’s stance, 15.19 and 15.20 were an absolute disaster.
Random cameos that serve very little to the plot, fan services, and awkward conclusions that weren’t as well put together as I would have liked. Unconcluded dangling loose ends that can almost tear the entire season (series) apart because though we spent so much time building up to something--nothing of consequence really...happened. Yeah, Chuck destroyed creation, but Jack reversed uno’d that. That’s just the first one of many that comes to mind.
I will say this only once and only once, but--a writer’s job is not to please the fans, it’s to tell a story.
Yes, I’m happy that we got fan services, but I would have been happier if they had kind of...ignored us, and just told the story that they wanted to without fear of repercussions. As a wrap up to the series, I was deeply disappointed. Y’know what would have been better? (for all of s15, honestly, because s15 was a mess) Actually caring about growth and healing. If we had seen Sam recover from mental health issues (cage trauma, cough, cough), Dean recover from alcoholism + adjoining anger issues, and Cas manage to find healing from the loss of his family and the mistakes that he’s unwittingly stepped into.
I guess, for me, I was hoping to see the boys + Cas actually...recover. For the writer’s to acknowledge the crap that they’ve put them through and see them to the end of it in life. Death is not healing, okay? Death is an escape for a writer to use as loophole. I know this firsthand.
I also know, writer-wise, that angst and trauma are much easier to write and easier for an audience to follow, but I still. Frustration.
And to those of you who might argue that Sam did heal--he...didn’t. Sam and Dean are soulmates. There is a connection that we cannot simply cannot understand or fathom there. (It is why, I believe, Dean made the deal for Sam in S2. It is almost physically impossible for them to live without each other.) Sam’s soul died when Dean’s went to heaven. What stayed on earth was little more than a grieving shell.
Look guys, I’m not frustrated because of a lost ship. I’m not frustrated because the boys deserved better (even if they did), I’m flustered because we did. We deserved to see them heal and get better + move on from hunting while they were alive because that would have been incentive to always keep fighting. A promise that things do get better. For me, the ending didn’t feel like a promise to carry on it was just...disappointing.
So yeah. Mixed feelings. I’m pretty sure I’m not the only non-destial (even though destial shipper’s feelings, like any other fan’s, are completely valid) shipper out there who wasn’t satisfied. I don’t know. I guess...after so long of watching these characters suffer, I wanted the peace to see them let go. For the ending to feel like a new beginning instead of the end. Still. I’m not going to go hate on CW, the directors, or cast. I’m still very, very grateful for the work they did put into the show.
With that.
Thank you Supernatural. Thank you Misha Collins, Jared Padalecki and Jensen Ackles for Castiel, Sam and Dean Winchester. You will forever hold a special place in my heart. <3
#spn#spn final#spn final thoughts#spn final thoughts postive#spn final thoughts negative#15.20#15.20 spoilers#review#episode thoughts
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