80-How to disappear

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Six Years Ago

His hands were always calloused, no matter how much lotion he put on. His hands were just always slightly rough. They probably have been rough since the 1940's. I learned to love the feeling of his hands. Of course I did. He is my husband. I love every little thing about him. Every little damn thing.

Steve's rough finger carefully traced the long scar that stretched across my abdomen as I slowly woke up, his wedding band slightly cold against my skin. My eyes fluttered open and I squinted slightly, trying to get used to the bright light. The early morning sunlight steamed in through the gauzy white curtains, illuminating the both of us. Outside, Rome was slowly coming to life, waking with the rising sun. Steve's hand flattened against my stomach as he pressed his lips against my bare shoulder, his beard scratching at my skin. The sweetness of his actions made me smile. A light giggle escaped from my mouth.

"Good morning, Mrs Rogers." He murmurs against my skin, his voice rough from sleep. My smile got a little wider as I moved my hand to rest on top of his. Our fingers intertwined. My ring was sitting on the bedside table on my side of the bed, the dog tags resting beside them. I was so terrified of somehow accidentally getting my rings caught on something and getting my finger ripped off. I know it was stupid and Steve teased the hell out of me for it.

"Good morning, Captain Rogers." I softly respond as I move onto my other side, looking lovingly up at him. His eyes aren't fully open yet, but he's still looking at me. I can't help but smile at him. This man just fills me with serotonin. How could I not realize sooner that he was the one for me? I have wasted so much time in my life on other people that just were not worth it. God, and this perfect man has just been waiting for me. Ugh, he looks so cute right now.

"Oh, I almost forgot. Good morning, baby Rogers." Steve says with a smile on his face, his rough and calloused hand moving to rest on my stomach. God, I love you-

Neddy's cries yanked me out of the dream/memory before I really had a moment with Steve. I jolted up in bed and quickly got up, picking him up before walking to the nursery. I nudge the door open and switch the light on. I laid him down on the changing table, unbuttoning his onesie. There is a cartoon version of myself on the front of his onesie. Of course, I am on merchandise. What? Something has to pay for my two children's college education and the Avengers. That shit is definitely not cheap. Your mind is just everywhere, huh?

"I don't think I've had a good dream about your daddy in a long time." I tell my son softly as I try to blink the sweep away from my eyes. Neddy looks up with me with his blue-green eyes as I change my diaper, making little noises. I smile at him, tossing the dirty diaper in the trash can in his room before buttoning up his onesie. I picked up my son and we walked down stairs, trying to be as quiet as possible. Steve's letter and everything else had reopened that wound that I thought I had healed. And it's making this whole thing a lot harder that I want it to be.

"I love you so much, baby boy, but I don't exactly love you waking me up at two in the morning." I say softly as I walk into the kitchen. I open the fridge and grab a bottle of milk, warming it in my hand. I walk us into my workroom, sitting down on the rocking chair I had asked Sam to put in here. We sit down and I hold my son close as I hold the bottle to his mouth. Neddy happily drank it, his little hand moving to hold my pinky. Damn, you are so cute baby boy.

"Oh your daddy would've loved you, you know. So would've your Uncle Tony and your Auntie Tasha." I say with a smile as we rock in the rocking chair, kissing his forehead. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see that beautiful sword hidden amongst all of my suits. It started singing to me, trying to beckon me to use it. I shook my head, trying to shake myself of its grip. I looked back down to my son, trying to silence the sword.

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