"You always stand up."
It was one of the few rules Sarah Rogers lived by. Even as a single mother of a sickly boy, who often struggled to make ends meet, she never backed down from a challenge, no matter how many times she failed.
Having seen his mother get back up so many times, Steve naturally adopted this principle as an early age. He'd stood up to bullies throughout his school years, even though he'd ended up with more bruises, cuts and broken bones than a boy of his health should. It wasn't all bad though—he'd been introduced to Bucky when the two of them had tried to keep a bunch of older boys from terrorizing a small dog. Then Steve had received the serum, and with Peggy's faith, he'd stood up to those who wanted to put him in a lab, instead of letting him fight for the cause he so firmly believed in. With the Commandos, he'd stood up to Hydra and Schmidt, and after waking up in a new century completely alone, he'd carved out a place where he felt like he belonged. With this new family behind him, he'd gotten back up after discovering aliens existed and were primed to attack Earth, after finding out his best friend was still alive, and after Ultron tried to destroy the world. Each time, it was a little harder and took a little longer, but every time, he did it.
And so, despite his broken ribs grating together with every breath, and every nerve ending in his body sending signals of discomfort to his brain, Steve Rogers pushed himself to his feet and followed Tony out of the wreckage of the Compound.
Thanos was just sitting on the other side of where the practice field had once stood, helmet off, elbows rested on his knees, hands clasped together. There were no other aliens in the periphery.
It was so obviously a trap that every uninjured fibre of Steve's being was burning with unease.
"I don't much care," Tony said, echoing the sentiments swirling around Steve's heart. After all Thanos had done to them, the pain he'd inflicted over the past five years, he deserved their vengeance.
"Let's kill him properly this time," said Thor.
Steve couldn't agree more.
They had to finish this.
The three Avengers walked slowly down to Thanos, while the alien taunted them with comments about those who had vanished. It was difficult, but Steve let the words wash over him. Thanos was just trying to distract them, to feed on their insecurities and emotions. Steve wasn't going to let him be successful.
The alien was full-on monologuing now, but the three Avengers didn't cut him off. As long as Thanos was speaking to them, he wasn't looking for the Stones. Someone probably was, but at least if it was another member of the Black Order, they were more susceptible to injury by human weapons, which gave Barton, Rhodes, Nebula, Rocket, Bruce and Scott a better chance at holding them off.
Steve, Tony and Thor fanned out around Thanos, putting themselves in the best tactical positions for the imminent fight. Thanos either didn't notice, or was too wrapped up in his speech to care.
When he was finished, the three Avengers had no choice but to attack, to keep Thanos occupied. With a mighty yell, Thor led the charge, but it was Tony who scored the first hit. Steve thought he'd seen an opening but, having had only limited close-up interactions with the alien at this point, he underestimated Thanos' speed. He wasn't able to fully dodge Thanos' swing and was sent flying through the air. He crashed hard into the ground a great distance away, somehow managing to cushion himself with his shield to save his ribcage from additional torture.
As always, Steve pushed himself back up as soon as the breath returned to his lungs. By the time he cleared the hill he'd been thrown over, Thor was shooting lightning into the back of the Iron Man suit, which Tony was magnifying through the front blasters and some iron extensions sprouting from his back. Incredibly, the alien managed to block the beams by spinning his massive double-edged blade. Still too far away to be of assistance, Steve could only watch as Thor changed tactics, and hit Mjölnir toward Thanos with Stormbreaker, like they'd once practiced with Mjölnir and Steve's shield.
The next bit of action happened too fast for Steve to catch, but when he looked up from watching his footing going down the hill, Thanos was grasping Tony by the head and ankles. Before Steve could throw his shield, Mjölnir was sailing through the air and knocking Tony free from Thanos' grip. Steve expected Tony to change direction mid-air, once he realized he was free, but the suit just crashed gracelessly into the ground and didn't get up. Through the comms, Steve heard FRIDAY trying to rouse Tony, with no response.
Red tinging his vision, Steve launched himself at Thanos with a high-kick, which whipped the alien's head around. Unfortunately, Thanos recovered quickly and landed a punch to the center of his shield, which sent Steve crashing into a low wall of wreckage. Through blurry eyes, Steve saw Thor go down, and with Tony still unresponsive, knew he had to act before Thor was taken out by Stormbreaker. Steve was too far away for a direct attack and his shield wasn't doing any significant damage to Thanos' skin or armor. Using the Iron Man suit wasn't an option until Tony revived, which left just one weapon.
Steve stuck out his hand, like he'd seen Thor do many times, hoping, praying that Mjölnir would grant him leniency—just this once—to save its owner's life.
Across the clearing, the hammer wobbled, then lifted off the ground and zipped into Steve's hand. The supersoldier had barely a second to register it being physically light, but surging with power, before he threw Mjölnir at Thanos.
After contact, the alien turned around and, for a brief second, Steve could see the excitement on Thor's bloody face. Then the hammer was flying back toward Steve, who barely got his hand out in time to keep it from connecting with his face.
Thankfully, Steve had insisted the team learn how to use each other's weapons. They'd griped and groaned at being woken up so early on a Saturday, but none of them could deny that the ability to properly wield his shield or Clint's bow had come in handy more than once. Mjölnir had been a bit of an exception, since none of them could lift it, but Steve had seen Thor fight with it in many battles and had made himself absorb the logistics of handling it.
Today he was going to see if those observations had paid off.
Steve spun Mjölnir in a vertical circle, building up momentum, but instead of flying through the air like Thor did, he hurled himself at Thanos again. This time, it was the alien who flew backward, while Steve remained standing.
By the time Mjölnir was back in Steve's hand, Thanos was struggling to his feet.
He had a plan. Attack.
Steve scored a hit with his shield, then a second when Mjölnir ricocheted off the still-in-flight shield sailing in the opposite direction. Now that Thanos' blade was on the ground, Steve swooped in, hoping to land more than glancing blows.
Wielding both Mjölnir and his shield, Steve forced Thanos back—even he was surprised when lightning arced through Mjölnir and blasted Thanos in the chest. Hoping that wasn't a fluke, Steve thrust Mjölnir in the air, then aimed it at Thanos, and was rewarded with a thick bolt pinning the alien to the ground.
Steve leapt toward Thanos, swinging the still-glowing Mjölnir down for a kill shot in center mass, but Thanos rolled out of the way, and grabbed Steve by the throat on his way back up. Steve felt a brief moment of weightlessness before he was smacking into the ground again. His torso exploded in pain and his vision whited out.
You always stand up.
And he did—just in time to clock Thanos lunging at him, helmetless but wielding his blade once again. Steve managed to deflect a few blows, but his movements were slow and sloppy against the pain lancing through his body. Eventually, Thanos got lucky and embedded his blade in Steve's right thigh. A cry slipped out before Steve could stifle it, and his knee all but buckled as the blade was yanked out.
He tried swinging Mjölnir as he went down, but Thanos caught it with his right hand, and used his left to punch Steve in the jaw. Mjölnir went flying in one direction and Steve in the other. Pain once again lanced through various parts of his body as he smashed into the ground.
His vision sliding in and out of focus like an old projector, Steve barely managed to see Thanos pick up his weapon.
Whatever it takes.
It was harder to get up this time, but he did, barely righting himself in time to block the blow with his shield... Except it didn't.
Steve looked up, with barely restrained panic as he saw the blade embedded through his supposedly impenetrable shield. He couldn't spare another second's thought because Thanos was swinging his weapon again.
The shield blocked the second contact, but not the third, which ripped a pie-shaped piece from its top as the blade withdrew. Two more hits took out most of the top half and one of them left a deep gouge in Steve's forearm as it sliced through his shield. Then Thanos hit the shield with an uppercut, sending Steve sailing through the air for a fourth time. The collision stole his breath, and every joint seared with white-hot fire.
Stand up.
He tried, but his body had other plans.
He allowed himself three seconds to catch his breath, before he forced himself onto his stomach, ignoring the pain that lanced through his system as he did so. Gritting his teeth, he forced himself up to his elbows. Every part of his body was screaming. A warm liquid was running down his leg and pooling in his forearm. Both sides of his face were on fire, from two separate impacts, and he could already feel the swelling. Hips, knees and ankles hurt from deep within, and he could hardly focus on the large rock in front of him. Black spotted his vision, trying to pull him into unconsciousness.
Stand up!
He gritted his teeth so tightly he might have cracked a few of them, and tried to raise himself up.
Thanos was speaking, but over the buzzing in his head and the ringing in his ears, it was background noise. But then a great commotion sliced through the din, which Steve had the misfortune of recognizing as the sound of more troops moving in.
He knew what he had to do. He would fight for as long as he could, with every breath that was left in his body.
He just hoped it was enough.
Steve summoned the last vestiges of strength, drawing on the pain, anger, frustration, helplessness, and vengeance that had been building these past five years, and with a groan, pushed himself to his feet.
He was unsteady and had to take a few moments once he was fully upright to catch his balance. His shield nearly slipped off his arm, the strap partially damaged by Thanos' blade, but Steve just pulled it tighter with a trembling hand, praying it'd last for what he needed to do.
When he looked up, he saw the massive numbers of Chitari, Outriders, and other troops on the ground. There were thousands, all assembling behind Thanos. It was a losing battle—there was no way he could defeat all of them.
He owed it to everyone who had disappeared to try.
Steve staggered forward, fully accepting his destiny, when he heard a voice in his ear—a voice which had disappeared five years ago.
"On your left."
Then portals were opening, and Avengers were appearing, and Steve's heart soared so high and fast his knees almost buckled with relief.
They could do this now, the lot of them.
Together.
After that, the individual moments of the battle began to meld together. Steve took out a few infantry, then accidentally summoned Stormbreaker. Thor asked for it back and Steve, too tired to argue, handed it over. Thankfully, Thor sent Mjölnir back to him, and with an unsteady spin, Steve threw himself back into fight.
Tony was up again, and Clint was asking for orders in the comms. The van was located, and the plan left Steve's mouth almost without conscious thought.
Then the flying ship was destroyed, and Danvers appeared and Wanda was down and Thor was fighting Thanos and Steve threw himself on Thanos' shoulders, trying to keep him occupied while Thor tried to beheaded him. But Thanos was faster, knocking out Thor, and pulling Steve over his shoulder. He had barely a second to see a purple fist coming at him, before his world went black.
When he opened his eyes again, he was only aware of pain; every fiber of his being was hurt, and being extremely vocal about it. But he pushed past that, and slowly absorbed the fact that it was quiet. And that he was covered in ash.
Suddenly it was five years ago and he was watching his best friend turn to dust.
Adrenaline surged and Steve shot upright, hazily accounting for what he could see of his team.
Recognizing it was the aliens who were getting dusted this time.
But who had snapped their fingers? He could see everyone but—
Tony.
A smile threatened to break out over Steve's face as he turned.
They'd done it. They'd won.
His smile immediately fell when he saw the state his friend was in.
Over the roaring in his ears, Steve heard Pepper tell Tony he could rest, then the great Tony Stark stopped breathing.
Steve wanted to do something, anything, but not even Thor moved to shock Tony with Mjölnir. There was no use. Tony Stark was gone.
Steve's mouth was moving, trying to voice what he was feeling in his heart—that he was sorry, that he wished things could have been different, that he'd been wrong about Tony, that he'd always be around if Pepper or Morgan needed him—though Pepper never needed anyone. Morgan, maybe, might need someone, sometime. But she had Happy and Queens, so maybe not.
Unfortunately, he couldn't make himself actually say the words. He hoped the sentiment was received all the same.
Pepper's head fell forward and she began sobbing. Happy immediately swooped in, and Rhodes pushed everyone else away. Steve stumbled back with the rest of the Avengers, while plans were made to search, triage, then to reconvene at what was left of the Compound.
As they split off, someone bumped into Steve's shield, sending his injured arm crashing into his injured torso.
Next thing he knew, he was on the ground, looking up at Bucky, who was demanding to know where he was hurt the worst, before he again lost consciousness.
Bucky and Sam were at Steve's bedside when he woke, their somber faces telling Steve everything he needed to know without needing to open his mouth.
The funeral had been planned while he was unconscious, and every news outlet was papering the screens with features about Tony. After his sacrifice, all his failures or transgressions, which the same news outlets had hounded on before, were suddenly forgiven. As duplicitious as it was, Steve couldn't be more grateful his friend was being remembered in the light he deserved.
The same day he'd regained consciousness, Pepper stopped by briefly, looking as beautiful as ever despite the enormous grief she was dealing with. She asked him to say a few words at the funeral. Steve agreed, even though he felt like the last person who had the right to do so.
It was a lot harder to get up this time. Hurt more deeply, and more than just physically. It was a different hurt than five years ago, because he knew this one was permanent.
Tony had made the sacrifice play. He'd lain down on the wire and let someone else crawl over him.
Steve regretted those words for years, especially once he'd gotten to know the real Tony Stark. Now they, and every other unkind word or snippy action, hovered around him like a dark cloud. He wished there was a way to take them back.
When he'd healed enough to get out of bed, he walked with a cane for two days (and didn't hear one joke about it, which said more about the team's state of mind than anything else). Bucky and Sam were his constant companions, helping him with his physical therapy and making sure he never woke without one of them around.
Having them around triggered a different kind of joy. He was happy that they were back—that the rest of the world was back—but it didn't feel right to be happy in the wake of what had happened. Of what they all had lost.
But they managed.
Then came the funeral. Both Bucky and Sam had had to help him into his suit, carefully sliding his heavily-bandaged thigh into the pant leg, and easing the thin white shirt over his bruised and battered torso.
They managed that too.
There wasn't a dry eye in sight once Pepper set Tony's arc reactor floating on the lake. Somehow Steve ended up at the front of the pier, with what the internet was calling the "Iron Family". He didn't feel like he deserved it, after Siberia, but Pepper and Rhodey insisted.
He did it for them.
At the wake, Rhodey and Happy delivered beautifully crafted eulogies, which triggered another round of tears from everyone in attendance. Then, Steve limped up to the microphone.
"It shouldn't come as a surprise to anyone that Tony and I didn't get along when we first met." There was a smattering of chuckles, but mainly expectant silence. "We both said things we'd later regret." He paused again, but this time it was because the words on the page he'd printed were getting a little blurry. "I was a lot more wrong than he was.
"Tony proved time and time again that the person he showed to the public wasn't the same person we all had the privilege of getting to know. We talked a lot these last few months, but not about what we said. Not about the important things.
"I wish we had."
Steve cleared his throat, then flipped the page of his eulogy with a slightly shaking hand. "Tony knew this was coming all the way back in 2012. He did his best to prepare for it, to protect the world against it. He never stopped—not even when his idea to throw a suit of armor around the world didn't work out."
He heard sniffling from multiple places in the room, people blowing their noses, and a few sobbing quietly. Steve just straightened his shoulders and lengthened his spine. He had to get through this for Tony; his friend deserved nothing less.
"Tony always had my back, he was selfless in all the right ways, and he never stopped fighting for everyone on this planet. The world won't be the same without him."
Now, Steve looked up at the tearful, grieving faces staring back at him. "Tony—and if you all don't mind me adding, Natasha Romanoff, Loki, Vision, plus the hundreds of warriors five years ago in Wakanda, and again last week—gave their lives fighting Thanos. It's because of their sacrifice that we're here today. We can't take that for granted."
His voice was a little stronger now, more sure of its purpose. "It's our mission, whether we want to accept it or not: to live our lives to the fullest, and to make sure no one forgets the sacrifice that was made. To tell their stories, so their names are known by all. It's the least we can do to thank them."
Steve picked up the tumbler of scotch on the podium and raised it in the air. "To Tony Stark, the one and only Iron Man."
The rest of the room raised their glasses again, and drank.