I Can Take You Home (A Romanogers Fanfic) COMPLETED

He's Lost, And She's Gone

Flashes of the Chitauri army invading New York came alive before Steve's eyes,  as the God of Mischief struggled to sit up and gave his brother a crooked smile.

  Before he met Natasha, when it's just him and his friends. It felt empty without her in there.

  When he was still the Captain America the world had looked up to, who didn't have the blood of the innocent lives he had taken.

  He had killed Melina, and now Natasha, his love, his life, and the reason he woke up every day.

  Now he's lost, and she's gone.

  Steve's palm was warm with Natasha's blood, and he took his hand off her forehead, not wanting to look at it.

  "You've been working with them all this time?" Thor spat. Beside him, Wanda put a hand on his arm.

  "It's not my fault, brother. They found me walking the streets of New York. I did return the Tesseract back to its place," Loki said with a smirk. "And I've got nothing better to do. These mortals are filthy."

  "But I didn't say you could work with another enemy," Thor growled.

  "You are not the boss of me, brother."

  Thor bristled, and grabbed his brother by the arm. "You come back to Asgard with me, and Father will deal with you."

  "Your father." Loki pressed a hand to his chest and shook his head. "Not mine."

  Thor slapped his palm to Loki's mouth, and a muzzle appeared around Loki's mouth, silencing him. Then, Thor heaved  Loki up roughly by the arm. "I'll go back to Asgard," he told Wanda in a softer tone. "I'll come back as soon as everything's settled."

  Wanda glanced at Steve, then whispered something to Thor. Both of them were engaged in a quiet conversation, voices two low for Steve to listen to what they were saying.

  "What are we going to do?"

  Bucky's soft, hesitant voice brought Steve's attention to him. Steve shrugged and buried his face into his hands, smearing his face with Natasha's blood. "I don't know, Buck. I don't know."

  Bucky's arms went around Steve's shivering body.

  A hand on his shoulder, warm and light.

  "It's time to go, Steve."

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Steve found the Quinjet parked outside. Apparently, Wanda had contacted S.H.I.E.L.D, and the plane had flown all the way here on autopilot.

  Thor had summoned the Bifrost and promised Steve he would come back in time for the funeral.

  "The facility needs to be exploded." Wanda's hands started to light up, and the bottom of the facility turned red.

  Steve watched as the whole place sank into the ground with a defeating roar, dust clouds billowing into the air.

  When Wanda was done and the facility was just dust and pieces of concrete on the ground, Steve hopped onto the plane and helped Wanda up. Bucky nearly tripped when he climbed up.

  The Quinjet came to life as Steve punched in a few buttons, and they were airborne in a matter of seconds.

  A few hours passed by in total silence, broken occasionally by Bucky's soft snores. Everyone was exhausted, but Steve couldn't bring himself to sleep.

  "How am I going to tell them?" he whispered.

  "What?"

  "How, Wanda?" Steve rubbed Natasha's dead hands in between his. No matter what he did, they remained cold and ashen. As if she's going to wake up if you warm her up enough.

  "Steve..." Wanda lowered her head. "They're...not here anymore."

  "No."

  "I'm sorry."

  "No."

  The world hurt. Every beat of his heart made him want to squeeze it hard so it would stop beating. Suddenly, he wasn't on the Quinjet anymore. He was floating in the darkness, and he couldn't feel his body, and it was supposed to be him.

  Wanda touched Steve's wrist tentatively with a finger. "It's not your fault."

  "Stop saying that." Steve scrunched his eyes shut. Natasha no longer felt like Natasha anymore. "Stop."

  An uncomfortable silence settled between the witch and the soldier.

  "She's so scared," he said quietly after a while. He wasn't sure who he was talking to anymore, himself or Wanda. Nothing matters anymore. He met Wanda's green eyes. "Can you see it?"

  Wanda's head fell and rose in a shaky nod. "I can."

  "I can't sleep, Wanda. I don't think I can ever sleep again. Everytime I close my eyes, I saw her. I hear my own heart beat when it isn't supposed to." Her scared, wide eyes, so green and filled with tears. The tears added more lustre in them, and they shone with a desperate glow. The look on her face would always haunt him, a constant reminder that the body in his arms should be his own.

  "She wouldn't want your death, Steve." A little figure of Natasha drifted from Wanda's fingers, and Steve watched as the figure danced and twirled. "She would want you to move on. And be happy however much you can. She would want that."

  "Only because she think very little of herself." Steve reached out and Wanda made the figure float onto his palm. He could almost feel the ghost of Natasha's touch tickling his palm as she performed a pirouette. "She means the world to me. More, if it's possible. She made my world turn, she gave it life. She made a home. And I found mine too. It will always be her. Now that she's gone, what's the point? I'm lost, Wanda."

  Wanda stayed quiet.

  The figure evaporated, and Steve curled his fingers into his palm. "Can you do it again?"

  "Yes, of course."

  Natasha reappeared, and Steve watched her dance for the whole plane ride.

  And somehow, he felt a little worse and better at the same time.