A/N: Heavy angst and Trigger warning, implied/actual suicide mentions. Do not read if that is a sensitive topic for you.
Everyone grieved in their own way. After the funerals, everyone seemed to just move on from all that happened. The world resumed, families reunited, crime resumed.
The team seemed to bounce back almost immediately. You hated it. You felt like everyone had moved on like you hadn't lost three major parts of your family.
Then again, everyone grieves differently.
A heavy sigh escaped you as you walked out to the back of your cabin. You and Natasha would often come here after the snap to try and get your mind off things. This place was filled with happy memories of your wife. The times you spent baking in the kitchen. The movie nights spent cuddled up on the couch.
You ran your hand along the counter and looked over the kitchen. The faint smell of sugar cookies filled the air although you knew it was just your mind playing wishful tricks.
You walked over to a cabinet and pulled out four glasses. It was time for your nightly routine. You placed the classes on the counter in front of you and closed your eyes tight, giving yourself a second to breathe. You could have sworn you felt the ghost of two all too familiar arms wrap around your waist.
Letting out a shaky breath you pushed off the counter and picked up the glasses before walking out to your backyard. You placed them down on the table and took your seat.
After the final battle and the funerals, you moved out of the compound, wanting to be left alone. It wasn't supposed to be a permanent arrangement but here you were 6 months later, still out by yourself in the woods of Upstate New York.
You had started a nightly ritual where you would leave out two glasses and pour Natasha and Tony's favorite drinks for them. At first, it was supposed to be a final drink kind of thing. Once last time for old times sakes. It got to the point where you couldn't go to sleep without doing it.
You added a third glass and old music after Steve had died. Tonight you opted to play the song "We'll Meet Again." by Vera Lynn.
You poured everyone's drink of choice into their glasses before pouring your own. You leaned back in your chair and looked to the star-filled night sky and began to sip your drink as the soft music emitting from your phone filled your ears.
There was a slight sense of comfort surrounding you like a bubble of fuzz. You felt tingly all over as if your friends and wife were sitting right there with you, watching the stars.
Or maybe it was the bottle of pills you had downed just before coming outside.
You looked down at the glass in your hands solemnly before shaking your head and raising it to the sky. "We'll meet again, don't know where, don't know when." You sang softly along with the music before downing the rest of your drink and slamming the glass down to the table with a force so great you were surprised it didn't shatter.
You threw yourself back into your seat and sank into it. Your eyes began to feel horridly heavy. You shrugged, it wouldn't be the first time you fell asleep out here like this.
You felt your body slowly surrendering to the darkness as all around you except for the music began to fade away. Soon that too disappeared and all was quiet.
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The sound of birds singing their own sweet love song. You groaned and inhaled sharply as your eyes opened before instantly closing them again as the bright light that greeted them.
