The Captain's Husband

21. The Funeral (Tony)

     "Natasha," I say as we pull up to the plane, "I'll be here."

     She nods, her newly cut hair moving with her as she says, "Thank you, Tony."

     Natasha chopped her hair to just below her chin and dyed it a few days ago once she came back to D.C.

Her explanation was that Winter had fallen, and that her ledger was nothing but red, so fall had to remain.

    It suits her.

I watch her walk toward the first flag-draped casket, and my heart sinks when the second one is placed beside the first.

There they are...the leaders of the Avengers, the last World War II veterans, Captain America and the Winter Soldier — Steve and Bucky Rogers-Barnes.

I fight back tears as the first of Natasha's gut-wrenching sobs echo across the airfield.

Fuck me, this hurts like a bitch.

     I step out of the car, and Clint grabs my shoulder as my feet hit the pavement. When I look around me, I notice that we're all here, watching Natasha welcome our — her — boys back to D.C.

     This really is it.

     T'Challa, with as much strength and grace as he can manage, takes the long walk to Natasha's side.

     My heart chokes.

     His sister and team of warriors stay behind to hold each of us up, but it's not much use. Even the strongest of us is struggling to stand.

      When Natasha falls to ruins at Steve and Bucky's caskets, T'Challa takes her hands and pulls her to her feet. He wipes away her tears, tucks her hair behind her ears, and then, as the rain softens, he tells her that a queen must remain steeled until she's finally laid to rest.

     It's bitter, and it's tragic, but I understand what he's telling her: Natasha doesn't need a crown or a fancy title to prove that she's a queen by her own right. It's a matter of character, and T'Challa can see every single plane of her existence before him.

     He's seen the calm, reserved agent at work. He's witnessed her prowess and strength in battle, even falling victim to the bite of her attacks a time or two. He's watched her heart open and change to let love in. He's not oblivious to a bit of it, and I feel a bit betrayed watching another man comfort my scarlet battle angel, but anything is better than nothing at this point.

    Wanda turns away as Natasha and T'Challa walk back toward us, whispering under her breath, "She doesn't deserve this, and neither does anyone else. I wish we didn't have to do this."

     Vision pulls her into his arms, saying, "Oh, dear."

    Sam sighs, "We have to be strong, Wanda. It's what Bucky and Steve would want."

     Clint squeezes Wanda's shoulder as he says, "He's right, but, you know, it's okay to be upset. I know that the rest of us are."

     She wipes away a few tears as Brookie rubs her face against her leg, and then she crouches down and hugs her, saying softly, "I know, baby girl." She strokes Brookie's ears and holds her tight. "I miss them as much as you do."

     Wanda doesn't need to touch any of us to know that we're all in varying states of disarray. The air is thick and the rain is cold. It's hard to breathe and even harder to feel anything but emptiness. I mean, hell, even Brookie is grieving.

     After a while, the President of the United States joins us, and the Secret Service escorts our fleet of cars to the start of the funeral route that'll go past the White House. When we exit our cars and start walking to the White House, we take in the millions of people silently lining the street to say goodbye to the world's strongest. Natasha holds tightly onto my arm, forcing back tears as the rain starts to fall even harder.

    I don't even make an attempt to hold back my own tears.

     It's unfair.

We reach the White House.

President Evans approaches the podium, and after a moment, he finally speaks, saying, "Today, we are gathered to remember our fallen: Captain Steven Grant Rogers-Barnes and Sergeant James Buchanan 'Bucky' Rogers-Barnes."

He looks at Natasha.

     She hesitantly steps forward.

After she adjusts the microphone on the podium, she takes in a shaky breath and says, "I couldn't imagine a world without either of you, Steve, Bucky...but, now, I'm forced to. Your passion for serving your country, your passion for justice, and your passion for each other will be greatly missed. I can't put into words how it feels knowing that tonight, when I return to Avengers Tower, your floor will be void of the life that you brought to it. Your boxes of cereal will stay closed. Your favorite coffee mugs will go unused. Your favorite blankets will remain folded on the couch. Your record collections will never be heard again. "

Tears flood her eyes and her voice breaks.

My heart shatters and chokes.

She goes on, in tears, "I'll never hear your voices, see your faces, ever again. I don't want to lay either of you to rest. And it's selfish, I know, but it's unfair. If I had landed that ship just five minutes sooner, you would both be alive. This nightmare wouldn't be real. I would be able to go home and hear you both laugh again. I would be able to go home and tease you for leaving your cereal boxes and mugs on the counter for the hundredth time. I would be able to go home and laugh at you bickering over which blanket is the warmest. I would be able to go home and watch you serenade each other and dance the night away to Sinatra's most endearing classics. I can't do that — not anymore." She takes in another rough breath, and she tries to hold it together for just a little longer. "But enough of that. My wish for you, my dearest Steve and my dearest James, is that you'll forgive me for not being able to see you again, and that you're watching over me. You'll always be in my heart, and I'll carry your love with me everywhere I go. You've left us too soon. I miss you, and I love you."

She steps back and turns to walk back to her seat at my side.

A few of the other Avengers stand at the podium for their speeches of sorts, and in the middle of my grief, I tune them out. But, when Sam leaves the podium, I realize that it's my turn.

My heart sinks as I walk to the podium, and I can't help but feel cold and alone when I finally open my mouth to speak.

"Like Natasha, and many others, I can't put into words how it feels knowing that you've left us," I say. "I remember when we thawed you out, Cap, and I remember hating you. I hated you because of my father's never ending praises. Then I got to know you, I got to work with you and witness the power you held in your heart, and I felt things changing. I didn't hate you any longer. I felt we were a team, truly a team. And then Barnes came back from the dead. I didn't understand how you could be so reckless in actively pursuing someone that I believed was a criminal, but, after ultimately losing to you in the snow of Siberia following our own civil war, I realized that the connection you had with him was something that can't be broken or changed. I was wrong. I was inconsiderate. I didn't know that you were chasing your soulmate. I wished that you had told me. Then, you did. I remember the day Bucky came out of cryostasis. You were as nervous as a kid asking someone out for the first time, and he was your already-well-established other half. But he remembered you, Cap. He remembered everything, and so your new love story began. I was lucky. I witnessed the growth and the changes that you both went through. It inspired me to approach my own relationships differently, and to pursue my wildest dreams. I thought that I had seen it all by that point, but then you asked me if I would bless your marriage, and if I would be your best man at the wedding. It surprised me. Our friendship was tumultuous, and I tried to kill Bucky, for God's sake. But we eventually forgave each other. And I'll always remember that night too. We were out drinking with the team. Bucky and Natasha were doing shots at the bar. Clint, Wanda, Thor, and Bruce were devouring nachos. I was trying to drag Vision to the dance floor. You and King T'Challa were sipping on bourbon. At the end of the night, we were all crammed into a single limousine, having an intensely emotional conversation about the hell we had put ourselves through. It sucked, and we were all sober by the time we got back to the tower, but I appreciated the honesty. It's one of my favorite memories. This, where I am today, is not one of my favorite memories of either of you. But, I'll do my best to remember the good times, because they'll see me through the bad times. Fly high, you two. I'll miss you."