Living as a wanted criminal is no easy task, but if America Rogers knows one thing, it's how to run. She, Steve, Sam, and Nat begin new lives as vigilantes, traveling all around the world but never settling for long.
Even though they're evading the...
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STEVE'S POV
The next morning, I move slower than usual. Thankfully, my eyes are no longer red and the dark circles are less noticeable in the mirror. I shut America's playlist off before I lose control of my emotions again and go to find some breakfast. When I enter the kitchen, though, I'm not alone.
Pietro's blue eyes flick up to me as he butters a piece of burnt toast. His platinum hair is windswept and his cheeks are a faint pink from the cold. He's been on an early morning run, just like America used to do. I've barely seen him since Wakanda. Looking at him, I realize that he is the only family I have left now. Through marriage, he is my younger brother.
"Morning," I say quietly, moving past him to pour myself a cup of black coffee.
"Hello."
Neither of us really knows what to say despite how similar our situations are. We both just lost the most important people in our lives, but I think this is worse for him. The people remaining aren't close to him. At least I have Natasha.
"How are you doing?" I ask, keeping my eyes on my mug. "How are you handling all of this?"
"I... I don't know." He sighs, pulls a crinkled picture out of his coat pocket, and carefully passes it to me. The photo is black and white, depicting three kids. A teenage Mer has her arms draped around her younger siblings, their faces lit up with laughter. While she changed so much, her smile was always the same. An ache I've become all too familiar with fills my heart as I hand it back. Pietro stares at the photo with longing.
"Anything I can do?" I know there's nothing, but I can tell how much the offer means to him. He shakes his head.
"No, not really. There's nothing anyone can do. It's just that..." Pietro exhales and runs a hand through his hair. Mer used to do that when she was stressed out. Stop it. "I was always part of a unit. Never alone. I was a twin, I was a younger brother. And I was protective of both of them. Now they're both gone, and I'm... I'm not a brother anymore."
He glances away from me, unable to meet my gaze. I put my hand on his shoulder and wait for him to speak again, knowing he will when he's ready. After a minute, he does.
"She really loved you, you know that?" He still won't meet my eyes, choosing instead to stare out the kitchen window at the rising sun. "It was crazy how happy she was with you. I never saw that side of her before."
I find myself nodding along, but the words get caught in my throat. "Yeah. I... I know."
"I lost her before," he says slowly. "When she was captured. She told us to hide and tried to lure them away. They got her instead. Wanda and I were, I don't know, maybe nine? We cried for days, both of us. Our parents couldn't comfort us. They were messes, too. We thought they killed her. And a few years after that, that damn explosion took them, too."
