Hi! It's my second multi-chapter fanfiction in English, first for romanogers fandom, and I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing it. The story is going to be my attempt at balancing angst, fluff, and hurt/comfort. My purpose is to make you smile, cry, wish for Steve and Nat to finally be together, surprised by the cliffhangers and mad at me for... Ah, yeah, there are likely to be some minor character deaths as this fanfiction is also my version of Avengers 4, though showed from Steve and Natasha's perspective.

I intend to write many chapters as the time jump between Infinity War and Avengers 4 is believed to be 4/5 years. We'll see how long it will take in case of my story. Expect some domestic stuff at first. Between The Wars has rating M and therefore before any potentially triggering chapter, I'll remember to warn you. English isn't my native language but I'm trying to write the best I can. Please excuse my mistakes. All kinds of reviews would be very appreciated. Feel free to tell me everything that comes to your mind after finishing the chapter. Feedback really motives to write more so don't hesitate. May this story help us survive until Avengers 4. Enjoy!


Prologue

Between the wars we dance

Between the wars we left

Don't wake me yet

And still the rest

Hasn't happened, hasn't happened yet

He couldn't count how many times he would just stand there, perfectly still, looking at the window and listening to the news or undisturbed silence.

The Avengers Facility. His home. Then why did he not feel at home?

3 weeks had passed since the snap. That's how people in the news called it whenever they talked about families that had suddenly fallen apart. About mothers whose children had disappeared from their arms. About husbands who had returned to empty houses. About kids orphaned in a matter of seconds. About different kinds of animals that had also turned into dust. About the half of the universe's sentient population that had vanished at the same time as the Avengers had lost the war.

These days Steve barely slept as closing his eyes alone brought too much risk. He was afraid of reliving that horrible day again, but the memories would always come back, one way or another, causing him to feel the ashes on his hands or hear Bucky call his name.

"You're doing it again." The words came from behind his back. "Thinking. It's dangerous to be left alone with your thoughts, Cap. You should know that by now."

"What else am I supposed to do, Stark? If there's a method to silence them all, I'll gladly give it a try."

Tony walked slowly to him, hands in his pockets. When he pulled out one of them, a set of keys hung from his fingers.

"You can always view your new apartment. Small but cozy, close to the center, a combination of modernity and tradition. No complaint will be accepted."

Steve took the keys, trying to imagine a new life that was awaiting him. "I don't know how to thank you," he admitted.

"Trifle." Tony looked away. "Buying an apartment for my fellow Avenger is easier than public speeches. They keep calling me, you know. In the end, I came back from space, right? I guess they expect some explanation. Iron Man must make some statement."

Tony had returned one week after Thanos' army had destroyed Wakanda, and the world had been shocked by the greatest tragedy in the history of mankind. Steve had been anxiously waiting for him as his missing friend got off the spacecraft in the company of an alien woman. He could still see that image before his eyes; Tony with blood covering his clothes, dust and ash on his skin, tired and broken like never before.

There was no trace of their old quarrel, which now seemed too distant to be remembered. Steve looked at him and wished for Tony to break and show all his anger while Steve would serve as a metaphorical punching bag. Tony remained calm, professional, and restrained. Sometimes he sounded like former Tony Stark, prone to jokes and narcissism, but most often his thick walls would crack a little just to reveal the suffering even Iron Man himself couldn't hide.

"The public deserves to know the truth," Steve dared to say.

"Rhodey and Romanoff have already told them the truth, no matter how absurd it seems," Tony responded in a toneless voice. "A purple monster collected magic stones, appeared on Earth, killed an android with human intelligence, and wiped half of humanity by snapping his fingers. People find it hard to believe, not that I blame them. My job is to confirm this version of events, and also to explain why Iron Man wasn't present during the end of the world. That's the truth they do not need."

Something in his voice changed, and when he looked at Steve, it was obvious that his next words would not be simple but sincere. "I can't tell them that I met a man called Strange and after barely hours of knowing each other, he gave up the Time Stone for me. Shortly after that, he died in front of my eyes, never telling me why it was so important for me to survive. I can't tell them about a bunch of morons who were some kind of family and disappeared one after another. Most importantly, I can't tell them about the kid from Queens whom I was supposed to protect. He died right in my arms while begging me to save him… I couldn't."

"It wasn't your fault."

Tony looked toward the door and Steve realized that the moment of honesty had passed. There was still a cold distance between them and even a shared grief could not overcome it. Not yet.

"Romanoff knows the location of the apartment. I'll ask Happy to bring all your stuff." Stark turned to leave. "In the light of recent events, the government has more problems than chasing a rebellious old man. Enjoy your freedom, Rogers. It's the best thing you can do."

"Tony," Steve stopped him. "I'm sorry. For everything."

The only response he got was a quick nod. Tony walked to the door, passing Natasha on the way. Stark briefly laid a hand on her shoulder, and she gave him a slight smile.

Natasha.

Steve didn't know if there were any proper words to describe his reaction to Natasha's presence. It was as if during her absence he saw the world through a blurred lens. It was only in her company that everything became clear.

They had spent the last two years on the run. Changing their place of residence, struggling with the effects of previous events, Steve, Natasha, and Sam had been inseparable. Of the three friends, only two partners remained. Even now, no longer wanted by the authorities, Steve felt uncomfortable without Natasha at his side.

He was so used to her presence that even a minute without her seemed a torment. He was aware of this only when she finally appeared on the horizon, always ready for another adventure brought by fate.

"It's good to see you two get along with each other," she stated, leaning casually against the door frame.

"I can see some progress, yes." He glanced at her intently. "How do you know the location of my new apartment?"

Her little smirk took his breath away.

"Oh, Steve. You didn't think I would let you live alone, did you?"

He had no intention of showing how much he was relieved at the thought of Natasha sharing a home with him. He was relieved. He really was.

Instead, he said, "I don't need a babysitter, Nat."

"That's not what I'm implying. You need a friend. A partner. You need someone who will be there for you. You need me, Steve."

"Maybe you need me too."

They looked at each other in silence, with smiles that they could not hold. Natasha suddenly approached him, finally admitting, "Maybe. Besides, we've lived together before. Remember sharing a bed in that ugly motel? Sam kept peeking at us from the floor. I can only guess what improper thoughts came to his mind."

Steve did not know exactly what made him blush. It might have been the memory of that night when Natasha had been sleeping so close that he could embrace her with his arms and fall asleep clinging to her back. Perhaps he would have done that if not for Sam.

It might have been the way Natasha's fingers brushed his as she gently took the keys from his hand. The only thing Steve knew was that the mention of Sam brought a certain nostalgia to this moment, reminding them both that two bittersweet years of living together were long gone.

Natasha grabbed his hand from which she had just taken the keys. Her touch was surprisingly soothing, and her voice gentled a little when she said, "Come on, Steve. Let's see our new home."