𝗀 𝗁 𝗈 𝗌 𝗍 | | 𝗌 𝗍 𝖾 𝗏 𝖾 𝗋 𝗈 𝗀 𝖾 𝗋 𝗌

𝗌 𝖾 𝗏 𝖾 𝗇 𝗍 𝗒 － 𝗈 𝗇 𝖾

𖢻 𝟤𝟢𝟣𝟪, 𝗐𝖺𝗄𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖺 ＆ 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗒𝗈𝗋𝗄 𖢻

THERE WAS NOTHING THE TEAM could do. They gathered all of their team that had survived the snap. They came with so many more, but were leaving with Natasha, Rhodey, Bruce, Steve and Marta. The losses were painful and debilitating, and Marta wanted to curl up and die. No one should lose their brother twice in their life. It just shouldn't happen. Both T'Challa and Shuri hadn't made it through, which meant their mother was left to rule the country.

The Avengers did all that they could to help Wakanda move forward while struggling with their own losses. They knew they had to go back to the compound, find who else had died and who had survived, so they packed up to leave. Marta had another mission to do before she could leave. She made her way down to Bucky's hut, alone. She collected the tiny amount of valuables he had. Most of them were pictures Marta had given him, in an effort to help him remember who he was.

Bucky was wearing his dog tags when he died, so those were gone forever. Marta collected everything and left his home, the one place he had known peace since he fell off the train all those years ago. She tried not to cry, but she did. How could she not? When Marta found the team again, Okoye was helping them load everything into the quinjet. Steve finished his conversation with the Queen Mother, Ramonda, and turned to see Marta moving towards the jet. He captured her in his arms once he saw her tears and she let him hug her. How could she not?

"Are you okay to fly?" Steve asked into Marta's ear, holding her close.

Marta nodded, face tucked into the crook of Steve's neck. "Yeah." she answered, forcing herself to let go of Steve.

She embraced a sobbing Ramonda once, and then boarded the jet with the team. They didn't speak, there was nothing to talk about. Marta flew the team back to the compound, a silence over them. They couldn't believe it. They had really lost. The team, or rather, what was left of them, spread out throughout the compound with goals to shower and rest, all of them needing some time alone.

Marta showered and changed, collapsing on her bed, exhausted. She couldn't sleep, she just spiraled. Half the universe was dead, because she wasn't strong enough. Bucky was dead, Sam was dead, Wanda was dead, T'Challa was dead, and so many others had perished, many that they had no idea about. Tony was stuck in space, and Marta desperately needed to know if he was okay.

There was a picture on Marta's nightstand that she looked at every night before she went to bed, and every morning when she woke up. Bucky was twelve, Marta was eleven, and Rebecca was five. It was Christmas, and Marta wasn't an alcoholic yet. They were sitting around the tiny tree they had in the corner of the apartment. Their father was taking the picture, and Rebecca was giggling in Marta's lap, Bucky with an arm around the middle sister. They were smiling, and they were happy.

The thing about Bucky's death that hit Marta the hardest was the fact that he was finally free. Hydra was gone, and he was free, only for a few months, until he was snapped away into dust. Marta couldn't sleep, as much as she wanted to. She couldn't close her eyes without seeing her failure in front of her eyes. She needed a distraction, of course she didn't know what that could be.

Marta played with the ends of her hair, the blonde locks completely dry now. When Steve knocked on her open door, she let him come in, sitting up to see him. "Hey." Steve said, showered and changed out of his old Captain America suit he had used during the time on the run.

"Hey." Marta answered quietly, not able to offer Steve a smile. He didn't expect one and didn't have the heart to give her one either.

Steve sat down on the edge of Marta's bed beside her. This was the closest they had been in years. Steve exhaled slowly, a tight shirt over his muscular torso. "I'm sorry." Steve said simply. He wasn't being specific, there was so much for him to be sorry for these days.

Marta nodded, looking at the wall. "I'm sorry, too." Marta had things to apologize for as well, though Steve didn't think she did.

He sighed quietly, his beard covering his chin. Steve ran a hand through his long hair, contemplating the conversation he desperately wanted to have with Marta. Their last conversation wasn't good, and he didn't know how to start off. "Do you really want a divorce? Because I don't." Steve said quietly, looking at the woman he had loved for over ninety years.

Without a sound, Marta met his eyes. "No. I really don't." she said as her voice broke off. She couldn't be without Steve now. They had gone through too much together to have their lives go on separate paths now. And, Marta loved Steve more than she loved herself most days.

Steve looked surprised. He expected her to say yes and kick him out, and he would've fought for their marriage, but there was only so much fighting he could handle. Marta stood up and walked to her dresser where a bottle of vodka and her copy of the divorce papers rested. Steve didn't know what she was doing, and his eyes widened as she tore up the paper, throwing the pieces in a trash can. Steve saw his mother's ring on her nightstand and slid it back onto Marta's finger, where it belonged and where it would stay forever.

Marta kissed him, and for a moment, everything felt right. When Marta stepped back to breathe, she remembered all that had happened. But at least she had Steve by her side again. Marta really didn't like her room. It didn't have the view her and Steve's did, and it felt small and lonely. So she moved back into their room where Steve's belongings had waited for him in all the years he had been gone.

Marta decided she would fix their chess set another day. Once she put her stuff down, electing to move her clothes later, Marta tugged a sweatshirt over her body and laid down, Steve beside her. Their bed was cold, but they would change that. Steve opened his arm and Marta moved closer to him, her head on his chest, his hand drawing up and down her back. "I love you." Steve said quietly, pressing a kiss into his wife's hair.

Marta's eyes closed, and she relaxed for the first time in a long time. The world was in pieces, erupted in flames, but at last, she had Steve in her arms again. Marta had spent so much time being mad at him, that she never took the time to really miss him. It was agonizing, and Steve swore she would never feel that way again. "I love you, too."

𖢻