Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Rewind
In the end, everything was red.
He was surrounded by his team when he opened his eyes. Natasha's relieved smile caught him off-guard.
"Finally!", she said in a softly, her voice full of affection.
Stark, standing behind her, seemed to be equally relieved. It had been a while since he had seen the two of them this unguarded. They usually hid their emotions behind a mask, letting only a handful of people close enough to show them their true feelings. Once, he had belonged to that small group of people.
He didn't anymore.
They were unharmed, not a single scar visible on their skin. Not a single drop of blood. He wondered how that was possible. Why they were alive. He didn't ask.
"It's about time you wake up!", Barton added.
The spy was leaning against the wall, next to Stark. He had thought he would never see the two of them next to each other again, but there they were. He asked himself why, what had happened for them to reconcile. Why Barton had forgiven the billionaire. But he didn't voice the question.
"What happened?", he asked instead.
He knew what had happened. Up until he had lost consciousness, had given in to the darkness. He didn't know what had happened after, but it must have been something important. Otherwise, they wouldn't be there in the room with him. He wondered why they were there. He had lost them, he knew it, had seen it.
For a short moment, he remembered Siberia.
Bucky wasn't there with them.
"He's my friend."
"So was I."*
It took a while to get accustomed to being in the tower again. To living with them again. They were always around, had decided to stick to his side when he was in the common areas. As a result, he stayed in his quarters as much as possible. It was amazing how little had changed, his room didn't look any different than before.
It wasn't the only thing he had needed to get used to. But so far, he had repressed that thought.
Instead, he gave in and allowed himself to enjoy the gift he'd been given. He enjoyed the normalcy that he had craved before. He sparred with Natasha, laughed about Clint's jokes. He smiled when Thor, in his enthusiasm, broke something. He gladly took the tea Bruce made him, and was humored by Tony's need to constantly update everyone's tech. He enjoyed all the things he had lost before.
He enjoyed having Tony's trust again.
Sometimes he wondered if he would lose that trust again if he told the truth. Sometimes he felt guilty. He always brushed both aside quickly. He had to stay silent. And thus, he never uttered a single word, never hinted at it.
It had been hard to hide his first reaction, when he first found out. He knew Natasha had noticed they way he had frozen when he had seen the news on TV. If she had, Barton probably had too. But then again, it hadn't exactly been subtle, and he suspected that even Thor had seen it.
Sometimes, when he closed his eyes, the date was still imprinted in his vision.
He had sent the letter months ago. Sometimes he wondered if the billionaire even had received it. Sometimes he worried about the silence, about the fact that Stark hadn't reacted at all. But then he remembered Siberia, the way they had left him, and knew he shouldn't expect a reaction. Stark had probably thrown the phone away and burnt the letter. Not that he'd blame him.
After he had broken his team out of the raft, they had separated. They had all gone into hiding and left no way to contact each other. It would have been too dangerous, the risk of being discovered too high. Bucky had gone back to sleep, determining himself to be too dangerous, too little in control to actually stay with him. 2017 passed without a word from anyone.
The only thing left was utter loneliness.
Sometimes his heart yearned for the old times. For the times when he was part of a team, living at Stark Tower, spending time with people that had become his friends. In those moments, Stark's words got stuck on replay and continuously circled around his head. He then wondered if he had chosen the past over the present.
He didn't really have to wonder. He knew he had. He had disagreed with Tony about the Accords, but that could have been resolved if he had been focused. But he hadn't. His attention had been diverted, first by Peggy, then by Bucky. He had always known a part of him had still clung to the past. It wasn't until after he had lost everything that he had realized how small that part had actually been.
Missions came and went. On some, he was sent alone, although his team only reluctantly let him go on those. Almost dying on them had left them cautious, and often, he found himself accompanied by one of the spies.
Barton had brought his family around. This time, it was his choice, he wasn't forced to reveal them to the team. The kids brought life into the tower, and while things were chaotic before, everything was a pure mess now. Saying he didn't enjoy it would have been a lie. After all those months of loneliness, being around people who cared felt great.
He wouldn't make the same mistakes this time. He paid attention, tried his best to make sure both his heart and mind stuck to the present. He was willing to compromise, sometimes even put one of the others in charge of missions. Naturally, he and Stark still clashed from time to time, but more often, they were found joking around, enjoying each other's company. He often went down to the workshop and drew while Tony was working on something. He was the first to know when things ended between Pepper and Tony.
There were holes, though, holes that couldn't be filled. The biggest one was left by Peter.
He hadn't really gotten to know Spiderman. The kid had been at the airport in Germany, had amazed him with his skills, and annoyed with the endless chatter. A part of him had thought Tony crazy for bringing a child to a fight between superheroes.
Looking back now, he saw how much Tony had cared about the boy. He hadn't seen it back then, had been blinded by his prejudice. After a certain point, he had never given Tony the benefit of doubt, had always blamed the billionaire. Until it had escalated. He had never considered his own mistakes.
It was horrible during the nights. He closed his eyes and saw his shield, stuck in the Iron Man suit. He had crashed it into the arc reactor, and then he saw the light go out. Other times, he saw the crashed suit. He saw himself reaching through the broken face plate, and then everything went red.
It was worse walking into the living room during daytime.
No Wanda.
No Peter.
When the call finally came, it was a complete surprise. He heard the ringing and couldn't place it at first. Too much time had passed, too far gone was the little hope he had had. But then he remembered the phone he had sent, and the one he had kept, always carrying it in his pocket.
He almost didn't pick up.
"Rogers", Starks voice came through the tiny device. "You are needed."
It had been an impersonal call, Stark's voice emotionless. No sign of forgiveness, business only. He then knew that Stark wouldn't have called if it hadn't been an emergency, something that was bigger than all personal issues combined.
So he left. Told Stark where to find him and got onto the Helicarrier that was sent. On it, he met Barton, Wanda and Sam.
The Accords had been denounced, their status as fugitives revoked. They would be able to return home, but arriving in New York didn't feel like coming home. Stark had worn a mask, hidden all emotions, keeping talking to a minimum – something very out of character, and he knew that the other team members were bewildered. He had never told anyone what had happened in Siberia, and by the look the kid shot Stark, the billionaire hadn't either.
For everyone else, the disagreement had been about the Accords. Maybe they had thought that, once the Accords were gone, the team could finally reconcile. He saw Wanda smile at Vision, which the Android hesitantly returned. He saw Barton check out Natasha's new weapons, while she looked at the most recent pictures of his kids. Then his eyes met Tony's.
The two of them wouldn't be able to just move on like this. He had broken their trust.
The only reason he was back in New York, back in Stark's company, was the huge portal that had appeared in the sky over the city.
Somehow, it felt like a Déjà-vu.
The others didn't know of his nightmares. The nightmares that no longer involved ice and the cold, but fire. Scorching fire that ate everything that dared to cross its path, until nothing was left. Fire that left red behind even when it went out and everything was over. Everything was covered in blood.
He always jerked awake before he died. He didn't know if that was accurate, he didn't know if he had died. The possibility was there. Maybe he had gone to heaven and was reunited with his team. He probably didn't deserve heaven, he deserved to rot in hell. But then again, maybe it was hell. Giving him back everything he had longed for, just to rip it from him again.
The others didn't notice. He tried his best to be the Steve they knew, and he apparently did a good enough job about it. They valued his opinion, they came to him for advice. They put their faith in him, and he wouldn't fail them this time.
He remembered Tony telling him of the vision that had led to the creation of Ultron. Back then, he hadn't understood. But having had the same experience – watching everyone die – had changed him, and he suddenly realized why the billionaire had wanted to create something to protect them. He would have done the same.
Without them knowing, he protected them.
Secretly, he had always compared Vision to Ultron. He hadn't been accustomed enough to modern times to not have a bad feeling about sentient machines, and he had seen Vision as just that. JARVIS had already scared him out of his mind and taken an eternity to get used to. Thus, he would have never thought he'd miss Vision.
But he was on the list, right next to Wanda and Peter.
They didn't have a lot of time to prepare. He met Thor again, finally saw Bruce again for the first time in years. Both were shocked to find out what had happened to their team, and he could feel the glances they shot his way. They blamed him.
It wasn't like he didn't blame himself.
He was introduced to Peter, the kid that Tony had brought to the airport. The teenager talked to much, couldn't shut up, but somehow found his way into everybody's heart.
Then Thor told his story. Despite all seriousness, the group was humored when the god told them about his fight with the Hulk in the arena. Then he explained how Thanos had found them. They had been saved by a group led by someone who called himself Star-Lord.
"They are now on their way through the Galaxy, trying to warn people. Thanos is on his way to Earth. He knows there is an infinity stone here", Thor concluded, and everyone looked to Vision.
He felt like throwing up again.
"He'll have to get past us first!", he stated, determination evident in his voice.
No one disagreed.
Everything had gone according to plan. Until that one mission. Tony had been reckless, and he had scolded him. Of course, everything had escalated. Words had been thrown around, words intended to hurt one another, and the team had stood by the side, watching them helplessly. He had taken notice Thor's confused expression, of Bruce having to fight back the Hulk to avoid escalating things even more.
In that moment he realized that, despite of all his efforts, their little group was about to break apart once again. His eyes wandered back to the billionaire who was pacing, talking animatedly. He was back in Siberia, watching the light of the arc reactor flicker, fading into darkness. Then ice turned to fire and he was watching Tony fly towards the giant alien trying to destroy their world.
He took a step back, breathing heavily. He could feel the sweat pouring out, covering his face, and Tony paused for a moment, having observed the change of behavior of his team mate.
"So was I."
The words kept ringing in his head as breathing became harder and harder. He barely heard someone say his name, it didn't sound like more than a whisper. He felt a hand on his arm and flinched back.
He had torn them apart before, he had failed them before. He wasn't going to let it happen again.
"I'm not going to watch us fall apart again!", he managed to get out.
He brushed off the hands that were reaching out for him and started running, he had to get away. Feeling their stares in his back, relief rushed through him when he was out of the room. He rushed down the stairs, his only goal was to get out of the tower.
How could he fail them again?
They had initially split up, but had reunited for the final battle. Not everyone had been able to come. Not everyone had made it this far. He was certain he'd never forget Peter's scream when the boy had been crushed. As if he really was nothing more than a spider.
They had lost Vision.
Bucky hadn't made it either, had succumbed to his wounds on the way. Even supersoldiers could die. They had decided to wake up the soldier, as they had needed every person available. Even Tony had grudgingly agreed, his face void of emotions, trying to keep his anger at bay. The others still didn't know. He wondered why Stark hadn't told them. Wondered if the billionaire would when all this was over. If any of them made it.
Natasha had been the first to go during the final battle. None of them had seen the arrow coming, not until it was too late, and it was sticking out of her chest. It had hit her heart, and she hadn't stood a chance. Seeing his partner die had broken Barton. The archer had been the next one to go, and the only consolation they had was that he'd be able to reunite with his family in death.
After that, they had fallen way too fast. Thor, Bruce, Wanda. He hadn't even seen, had only noticed after it was too late and their bodies were on the floor. Thanos had been able to retrieve the last stone when Stark was the only other fighter left.
It was ironic that they were the only ones that had made it this far, that they were the last to die.
He watched the Iron Man suit take off, shooting towards Thanos.
He heard banging on the door and buried his face in his hands. He hadn't realized that tears were streaming down his face, but his fingers touched wetness on his cheeks.
"Steve, we know you are there!"
He barely heard the voice, didn't realize that the door gave in to the hands pushing against it. He didn't realize he wasn't alone anymore until he felt an arm wrapped around his shoulder.
"What is going on with you?", Stark demanded to know, and he closed his eyes.
He couldn't tell them.
Everything went red as the air around them exploded. Flames started gnawing on his suit, burning through the fabric and his skin. He watched Iron Man fly through the air, crashing into the ground. The red suit had suffered immense damage, the flames had started to melt it off the body inside it. He knew that Stark had to be in immense pain, could feel the heat surrounding everything. The metal disappeared more and more, leaving behind burning skin.
Tony's cry shattered his whole being. He could watch the billionaire burning alive, trying to fight, trying to escape the flames but there was nowhere to escape to. He barely registered his own pain, his focus completely on the other man.
He was tempted to close his eyes, to avoid watching his team mate burn to death. But he couldn't, he wouldn't. Instead, he managed to put one foot in front of the other. Slowly. It took forever to reach Tony, each step accompanied by pain shooting through his body.
He was burning, too.
He fell to his knees next to the billionaire, who starred at him through the broken face plate.
"St-ve", the other man gasped, and his heart shattered. The first time since Siberia that he had heard his name coming from Stark, and of course it was when they were dying. He carefully lifted his hand, softly touching the burnt cheek. Tony's eyes were already starring into nothingness, and he realized that he just lost the last person that mattered.
He tore his eyes away, and they landed on Thanos. He was surrounded by fire, flames that slowly died as soon as he moved his hand. A triumphant smile was plastered onto his face, the stones sparkling in the gauntlet on his fist.
The fire stopped, but the red didn't disappear. Wherever he looked, his eyes saw utter destruction. Where once used to be buildings, enormous piles of metal, stone and concrete filled up the streets. Deformed chunks of metal were buried underneath, and he was able to spot broken limps of the people who had thought they would manage to escape.
His gaze landed on Tony. Pain shot through his body, and his eyes tore away from the iron figure on the floor back to his own body. His suit was stained with blood, his skin burnt. Blood was pouring out of a wound in his side, he could already feel darkness reaching for him as well.
He looked back at Thanos. He was currently the last one standing, but he wouldn't be for long. He wasn't able to fix anything, they had fought until their last breath, but to no avail – they had lost. Somehow, he felt almost relieved. He would get to see his team again.
In the end, there was silence. No one was around him who could have broken it. He was surrounded by debris, by death. Everything was red, buildings, cars, people. Everything was covered in scarlet, even his suit. The red had been burnt into his vision as he slowly closed his eyes. Succumbing to the pain, relieved as darkness took over and drove away everything red.
In the end, everything was red.
He had done good during the past few months. He had managed to save the team, had managed to make peace with Tony. They had had a heart to heart, insults had been thrown, but no one had intervened. And with no Accords to worry about, and him not being distracted by people from his past, they managed to get past their differences and accept each other's viewpoints, each other's faults.
The past wasn't important. The present – the future – was what mattered.
Barton had another child. A girl, this time, much to Natasha's delight. He couldn't help but wonder how long everything would stay this peaceful, how much time remained until someone screwed up.
He waited until he couldn't wait any longer. They were all in the living room, Clint and Tony arguing what movie they should watch. Bruce was sitting on the couch with a tablet in his lap, working on some of his newest research. Natasha and Thor were in a heated discussion about Mjölnir. The scene brought a smile to his face.
It was bitter smile.
Not everyone was present, but he knew that the clock was ticking, knew that not a lot of time remained. It was better to come clean now and hope that they'd forgive his lies. His silence.
He watched has Laura ushered the kids out of the room and went to their floor to bring them to bed. They had all become a little family, and he was glad that he had gotten to experience this. He heard Tony and Clint finally agree on a movie, and everyone dropped what they were doing and came together.
He didn't. He continued watching them for a minute, and his smile grew sadder and sadder, until it disappeared. He had to destroy their peace.
"Guys", he said when Tony was just about to start the movie. "I have to tell you something."
All his senses were taken over by excruciating pain. He could feel his whole body, the ache that ripped through his muscles as he tried to move his hand. Physical pain. But the mental pain was even worse. Why had they done this? Why had they taken him, brought him back when everything was lost? When everyone was lost?
Iron Man's suit, covered in blood, was an image he'd never forget. Tony, Natasha, Clint. His heart could barely take the thought of Spiderman caught in something that was way over his head. Peter had been too young to go, he wasn't supposed to go like this. None of them had.
He felt nausea creeping up his chest, he hadn't even been allowed the reconnect with them in death. He'd been brought back.
He was surrounded by his team when he opened his eyes.
"Finally!", Natasha said softly.
It only took him a second to realize that this wasn't possible. He had watched them die, there was no way for them to stand in front of him unharmed.
"It's about time you wake up!", Barton added.
No physical pain could ever compare to what he felt when he heard the archer's voice. When he saw Tony standing behind Natasha, a relieved smile on his lips. Someone had to be playing a very cruel joke on him.
"What happened?", he choked out and Bruce started explaining.
He could barely focus on the story, but he got the gist. He had been captured on a mission, and the Avengers had barely made it in time to get him out. He had been injured badly, flatlining twice, then falling into a coma from which he wouldn't awake for two weeks.
His eyes wandered back to Tony. It felt as if he'd seen him die just a second ago. Had it all just been in his head? Had he imagined Thanos' attack?
He didn't get an answer until later that afternoon. He had coaxed his team into letting him go home, promising them that he'd listen to every order they gave him. He had been settled onto the couch in their common living room, and someone had turned on the TV.
It didn't make sense at first, and he couldn't be sure until a while later. But he clearly saw the date on the news channel.
2015.
He met the eyes of his team mates when he ended his story. He hadn't skipped a single thing. It had been painful to tell Tony how they had fallen apart, how they had almost killed each other. How he had chosen Bucky over them.
The only thing worse was telling them how they would die. He could see them freeze, flinch, close their eyes. He could hear their gasps and sighs, but they didn't interrupt him, not until he was done.
"Thanos is coming," he concluded. "We don't have much time."
"We're the Avengers, we can bust weapons dealers the whole doo-da-day, but how do we cope with something like that?"
"Together."
"We'll lose."
"We do that together too." **
*from Captain America – Civil War
** from Avengers – Age of Ultron