Author's Note: Some people move on, but apparently not me. Hi everyone. It's been a few years. While I 100% stand by the ending to A Little Kindness, seeing Avengers: Endgame has made me nostalgic. So here is a non-cannon ending to that fic set after the movie. Enjoy!

The light fixture in the staircase flickered. Steve briefly thought about sending an e-mail to the landlady, but decided against it. She had been hit hard during the Snap, lost her whole family. Ever since then she let a lot in the apartment building slide. He didn't much care. Caring about most things was difficult since they had lost the fight against Thanos. He encouraged others to move on of course, to care about things in their new life. But not him. Unlike most people, he was at fault for their new reality. If only he had done things differently, then maybe they wouldn't have lost the war. And he wouldn't have lost her.

Steve stopped in front of his apartment, stuck the key in the lock. He braced, as he always did before entering. He didn't need a stone memorial with the names of those he had lost. He lived in a mausoleum of his own making.

Their names greeted him as Steve opened the door. Becca gazed out at him from their wedding photo mounted on the living room wall, her smile so wide that her lips had all but disappeared. Sandy's toy box sat untouched with brightly colored chew toys stacked so high it was a wonder they didn't spill over onto the floor. A thick coffee table book on the history of art in New York was displayed next to the couch, a 100th birthday present from Bucky with "Congrats on being old!" penned on the inside cover.

Steve sank down into a chair and closed his eyes, drinking in the echoes of his life here. Sometimes he couldn't stand to be in this place. Other times he needed to wallow, rearranging the magnets Bucky had left on the fridge or spraying Becca's perfume onto his pillowcase. Tonight was a wallowing kind of night.

After heating up a can of chili, Steve perused Becca's favorite movies. He ultimately decided that he didn't feel like watching any of them, but did clean the dust off her collection. While he was at it, he cleaned the rest of the apartment, tinkling chords of jazz rising from the record player above the roar of the vacuum cleaner. He didn't keep the apartment as spotless as he used to. Making the effort seemed pointless most of the time. But cleaning also gave him a task to accomplish, occupying idle hands that turned to useless fists in his lap.

While dusting in the closet, Steve came across the journals from when he had pieced together his memories after his Winter Solider incident. He took the journals out and stacked them on the coffee table. Pages had been ripped out, reordered, and taped together, highlighted and scribbled on with writing so cramped at times that he could barely make it out.

Steve flipped through the pages. They were as good a scrapbook as any, bringing back all those moments he treasured. Building a fort with Bucky when they were kids. Buck teaching him how to dance. That fluttering feeling he got in his stomach as Bucky had put a hand on his waist. The first time Steve had gone with Becca to Black Ice. Those shakes had been real good. Becca singing quietly off key in the kitchen as she cooked breakfast. Her squealing as popcorn flew everywhere when her friend's dog jumped into her lap while they had been sitting for a few weeks. And a second squeal when Steve licked a piece right off her neck. Becca done up in his favorite purple dress, pulling him in to slow dance around the living room. How soft she felt in his arms. The smell of her shampoo. His lips brushing her forehead.

Hours passed as Steve read the journals cover to cover. He laughed so hard his stomach hurt. He smudged half a page illegible with tears. Fuck, but it would have been easier if everyone were dead. But they weren't. They were just gone. And he missed Becca and Bucky so damn much.

Steve reached near the end of the journal where a big question mark had been circled at the top of the page. The memories he couldn't fit. The Winter Solider program had done a number on his brain. His head had been so garbled. He considered it a miracle that this section was so short.

I'm in a dining car with Becca. She's holding up a glass of wine and smiling. There is snow outside.

A dining car. Steve shook his head. He didn't even think they had those anymore. The popularity of trains had died out long ago.

I'm at the pictures with Becca. I can't remember what we were watching. My neck is warm. The theater is full. She's wearing a dress like girls used to in the 40s, blue and buttoned up. Casablanca is the film. A new film, but I wasn't watching much.

Steve vaguely remembered this section of his journals now. These particular memories all seemed to blend his old life and his new life. Odd though that even with a clear head, he couldn't remember the separate memories his fragmented brain mixed up. In fact, he was certain that he had never been in a dining car. Wouldn't have been able to afford it. And yet...

Steve scratched an itch on the side of his head. There was something familiar about these memories. Like the memory of someone else sharing their memories. Was that it? His brain mashing together too many pieces and giving him another person's story?

There is a thin blanket wrapped around me. I'm real sick, but Becca is keeping me company playing cards. She looks sad when I mention the war. She looks lost.

His gut twisted. Lost. Thanos had said that Becca would be lost in time. Steve had always assumed that meant Thanos sent her forward in time, but what if he sent her back? Steve got to his feet. No. He'd remember if he had met Becca. These memories, it was like they had been friends. He wouldn't forget a thing like that.

Steve paced the floor, reading the handful of memories over. How would he forget her? What that another trick Thanos had pulled? He had the power to do anything he wanted with the gauntlet. Or else, could it be an effect of time travel after the fact? He had watched enough science fiction films to know that things changed when people messed with time.

Steve closed the journal. He needed to get his hands on the Time Stone now more than ever. Becca was gone, but he knew where to look for her. And nothing was going to stop him from bringing her home.

"There you are!" Becca started at the voice of Mabel, her bookbinding mentor. "We're going to get lunch. Would you like to come? You can pick the place."

"Oh…"

Becca looked down at the book resting on the table, The Principles of Quantum Mechanics. Even if she managed to become an expert on physics and the universe, what were the chances that she could actually figure out time travel? She had no resources, basically no money, and no one had even invented a computer yet, so she had no technology to help. Trying to plow her way through this book would be like repeatedly beating her head against a wall. She flipped the cover, pausing before it hit the pages. Was she giving up? She hated giving up. She never gave up. But maybe… maybe there was a difference between giving up and knowing that there was nothing you could do. Otherwise you just drove yourself crazy going in circles and letting the rest of your life go by. That was basically what she had been doing so far, and it had gotten her nowhere. Worse than nowhere, really, since she had ended up betraying Steve and getting kidnapped. She didn't want to make another bad mistake. She didn't want to keep bashing her head against the wall, her life a lonely, miserable day-to-day. And Steve wouldn't want that.

So with a deep breath, Becca let the cover fall. "Sounds good."

Mabel held out a hand and took Becca's arm as she stood. "So where are you thinking?"

"Hmm…" Becca pursed her lips. "How about that Southern place we went last month? I need some serious comfort food. Oh!" She pulled her arm from Mabel's. "I should put my book back first. I'll meet you guys out front."

Not that anyone would be tearing up the library looking for this book on quantum mechanics, but Becca had come to a decision. She would not tempt herself by leaving the book for her return. She scooped it up, cradling the book to her chest. Her heels tapped on the floor as she passed row after row of books until she reached the correct shelves. Never would have thought she'd become so well acquainted with the physics section. Her high school self was gagging.

Becca pushed a book aside to place The Principles of Quantum Mechanics back in its slot. She hesitated, resting the book on the shelf's edge. She could still change her mind. Keep trying. Keep banging her head against that wall. Alone.

No.

Becca shoved the book in. She let out a breath and nodded. This was her choice. She had the rest of her life ahead of her. She was going to live it, no matter what time she lived it in.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" Becca's heart stopped. "I'm looking for someone. And I think you might be able to help."

The breath she had just let out caught again in her throat. Becca trembled. This might be a dream or maybe she had cracked, just gone totally nuts at the prospect of her new life. Her hands stayed locked on the book case, afraid to reach and find empty air. Her eyes focused ahead of her, afraid to look and see a stranger. But her lips formed a name.

"Steve?"

And if it was him? Was it the old Steve or the new? Had Captain America made a trip back after heading overseas? She didn't think so, but she hardly knew every aspect of his old life. Did he remember everything or only snippets of what Jack had wiped away?

His hand took hers, and on his finger glinted a golden wedding band.

Becca turned. His hair was cut different. He seemed tired, the skin under his eyes shadowed. But that soft smile, that was the same. And he was her Steve. Hers.

Becca flung herself into his arms, sobbing. "I t-thought… I t-thought I was never going to see you a-again. Jack – Jack said you ne-never came back for me."

"Who?" Steve asked.

"It doesn't matter." Fuck Jack. Becca nuzzled against Steve's chest. He had tried to keep her here, keep her away from Steve. Fuck that lying, psychopathic shit-face. "I'm just so g-glad you're – I can't – I just…"

"I know." Becca looked up at Steve. His gaze had gone watery. As she traced a finger beneath his eye, a single tear rolled down to melt against her skin. "I missed you, too."

As Steve leaned down, Becca leapt up on her toes to meet his kiss. He felt real. He felt like home.

"I couldn't leave my best girl," Steve whispered against her lips.

Becca hated herself for ever doubting him. After the lengths he went through to get Bucky back after the whole Winter Solider thing, she shouldn't have lost faith in Steve. He was loyal to a fault. Thank god for that.

"We won?" Becca assumed. Steve nodded, and she celebrated for a split second. Of course, the Avengers found a way to beat Thanos. They were Earth's mightiest heroes and all that. Then, Steve's gaze shifted aside. Oh no. "We lost someone."

"Nat. Tony."

"No." A hard loss. Becca had considered Nat a friend, and Tony, while often an asshat, was a good man underneath. The world had lost two of its greatest.

"And, uh, Thanos snapped half the world's population into non-existence for five years. Banner brought them back a few days ago."

"I…"

What?! Half of the world had been gone? And for five years? It had been five years for Steve since she got here while a year passed for her?

"I honestly don't even know how to begin processing that information," Becca confided.

Through lots of therapy. Although, if half the world's population had been missing and the other half had to deal with that for five years, there would probably be quite a line. Wait.

"Five years." Becca reconsidered the weariness in Steve's face. "Was Bucky…?"

"Gone," confirmed Steve. "And Sam. Even Sandy. Son of a bitch couldn't even leave the pets."

"So you were alone?"

Becca knew how that felt only too well. She had been on her own plenty here. But Steve, he would have blamed himself for what happened. God. And she thought she'd had it rough. At least she had little Steve in the beginning. Not to mention dealing with her new circumstances for less time. She pictured Steve sitting in their apartment staring at the ceiling, consumed with guilt.

"Hey," Steve soothed. He rubbed his sleeve across her eyes to collect the gathering tears. "It's okay. I'm okay. And, you know, it gave me a chance to really think about what's important to me. And that's you." He pressed his face against her hair as Becca leaned into him. "I'm giving Sam my shield."

He needed to stop dropping information bombs because her head was spinning.

"I don't understand," murmured Becca.

"I'm retiring," Steve explained. "I think I've earned that much. I'll be there if anyone really needs me but… I'm ready to give Captain America a break. I don't want to live a life where I'm always dragging you behind me. I want to live a life with you. And I could give the shield to Bucky, but we talked about it and I think he deserves a break, too."

"Uh." Becca frowned. The sentiment was nice, but – "Have you met you? You're going to be retired for, like, three months and go absolutely stir crazy."

"Maybe. Or maybe we'll find something else to occupy our time."

Steve lifted her chin, and Becca saw that he actually meant it. He wanted to be with her. To try something normal. She hardly knew what that was like. To wake up every morning with him there. To never be interrupted by a call to go off an save the world. To not have to expect to go to functions regularly alone. They could live their day to day together until forever… or until Steve got bored of retirement.

"Okay," said Becca, a smile forming on her lips. Steve beamed that dopey smile he got when he was really happy. "Yeah. Okay. Let's try it."

"Great." Steve peered over her head. "Now, if you could help me find that person I was looking for –"

Becca shoved him. "Hush. How about you take me home and we can get started on that retirement plan? We've got five years of catching up to do."

Steve kissed her cheek. "Yes, ma'am."

They walked out from between the stacks towards a back exit. Hard to believe that she had been prepared to move on with her life not fifteen minutes ago. Becca squeezed Steve's hand, and he squeezed back. She couldn't imagine how that Becca's life would have gone, but she was beyond glad it didn't matter. This hadn't been the end after all. No, they had all the time in the world in front of them, and Becca meant to make the most of it. Not as Captain and Miss America, not for now. But as Steve and Becca Rogers.