The next story in my quest to edit/update some of my work over the summer, but nothing too major changed. Hope everyone still enjoys!
Edited 7/4/19. Still don't own the Avengers, that didn't change.
The faint boom of a cannon echoed over the battlefield, resounding in his ears. The night sky was set ablaze with the flames of gunfire. Another cannon boomed, cracking through the sound of the battle. Screams took its place as the metal ball met its targets.
Bodies littered the battlefield as Steve and the troops pushed ahead, the HYDRA weapons firing blue bolts of energy at the soldiers, making it impossible for them to hear commands above the noise. Dirt shot up from the ground, raining black chunks from a smoky but otherwise clear night sky. It was chaos. Bloody, noisy, messy chaos.
But the explosions he heard around him in the present day were further away and didn't carry the same weight of imminent danger behind them.
Steve shook the memory of war from his mind and lifted his head. Fireworks exploded in the distance, bringing bright and powerful sparks into the sky. They flew upwards in a high pitched scream before bursting into a bright ball of color and then vanishing. The only remnant of the firework was the smoke that hung in the air, seeming to cover the entire city in a foggy haze.
It was the Fourth of July. The day that the country would celebrate its independence with parties and fireworks. Steve spent the day mostly in solitude, walking around various war memorials and paying his respects to the men that had made the country free. He'd stopped by a few of the VAs to talk with other men and women that had the same intention as him: a sense of communal understanding that needed no real explanation beyond its inherent importance.
The rest of the Avengers were on the communal floor of the tower, having a party of their own. Nobody had brought up the fact that it was his birthday, which Steve was perfectly fine with. He really didn't want Tony putting a birthday hat on him and starting a karaoke party, like he had for Clint.
Steve had been at the party for a few hours, listening to stories and laughing at Tony's bad jokes. But he had excused himself once the fireworks started. He'd had a few run ins with the sky-high explosives since he had come back, namely during New Year's. He had been inside surrounded by people, but all he could hear were the explosions taking place just outside the tower. It hadn't gone well.
In an effort to avoid another event like that, he figured the open air away from claustrophobic spaces and loud people would be best. He'd still hear the fireworks, sure but he'd also be able to see them and know exactly where the sound was coming from. Maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't trigger anything hiding in his subconscious.
So instead, he stood on the roof of the tower, his arms folded under him so that his elbows pressed against the cool metal railing. There was a slight breeze going through the otherwise warm and humid air and every so often he could smell the smoke that still passed by the buildings. A small SSR pin was adorned to the collar of his blue button-down, which was tucked carefully into a pair of dark blue jeans. Comfy and slightly dressy, just as Stark had told everyone.
The door to the roof opened, causing Steve to turn his attention away from the fireworks. Natasha strode out, her heels clicking on the cement roof. She was wearing a blue one shoulder dress that cut off right before her knees and a pair of silver gladiator style low heels.
"I thought I might find you up here," she said, walking towards the railing that Steve stood next to. There was silver confetti in her curly red hair, but she didn't seem to notice. And if she did, she probably didn't care. Her hands were folded delicately behind her back as she came to stand in front of him. She still had to crane her neck slightly to look him in the eye, even in heels.
"And why would that be?" Steve asked, a blush creeping onto his cheeks.
"I'd like to think that I know you pretty well, Rogers. I don't have to explain myself."
Steve chuckled slightly and turned his gaze down to the floor. "It seems that would be the case."
Natasha sighed. "The boys are wondering where you went. Clint was trying to test out a firework arrow inside and Pepper had to calm him down and talk him out of it." Her gaze matched his as Steve brought his head back up, mouth set in a straight line.
"I just had to think for a little." Steve paused, and while Natasha didn't voice wanting to ask him what about, she kept her gaze on him. "I used to spend every fourth with Bucky. We would sit in the park and watch the fireworks, passing popcorn back and forth. Even with the Commandos, they got roaring drunk and started spouting war stories like a hose. After the war…after I got back, I realized that it's not good for me to be inside during the fireworks. They…" he cut himself off, motioning to his head with waving fingers.
Natasha grasped his hand lightly and pulled it down from his head. "You don't have to explain it, Steve. I just wished you had told me earlier so I could've come up here with you sooner."
"Thanks, Nat." He gave a small smile, trying to hide the tinge of sadness in his voice. Her hand was still locked with his, down by their sides. The other one was bent behind her back, obviously hiding something. "What's that?"
Bringing her hand around to her front, Natasha began to smile. It was a rectangular present, wrapped with American flag paper and adorned with blue ribbon. "You don't think that I could forget your birthday, do you?"
"No, Nat, you shouldn't have," Steve started sheepishly. Natasha held the present out to him and he unlocked his hand from hers and took the crinkly paper in both hands. He looked at it for a moment before carefully unwrapping it and turning it over.
Inside was a large picture frame, black with a blue mat, and three photos positioned inside it. The first one was of a man and a woman, holding a small baby on their laps, staring blankly into the camera. The photo was yellow and fraying around the edges, but the black and white image was still clear. The child was small, with light eyes.
Steve touched the glass encasing the photo lightly, tears glazing over his eyes. The second photo was of the Howling Commandos, all smiling at the camera. Steve and Bucky had their arms around each other, both of them with mouths open in a smile, white against the grime that covered their faces. Dugan was looking at them and smirking, his iconic bowler had sitting atop his head.
The final photo was of all of the Avengers. Fury, Hill, Coulson, and Pepper were on the sides of the team, everyone in uniform. Steve was standing next to Thor, who seemed to tower over him. Ever member of the team, even Fury, had some form of a grin on their face.
"How did you get these?" Steve asked quietly, feeling a burn behind his eyes. Photos he hadn't seen in what felt like years were there in the same place as one with his current team. It was both surreal and touching.
"I know some people," she replied simply. "I thought it may make a good birthday present." Steve turned his attention away from the photo to look at Natasha, who gave him a wink. "Stark has no idea, so you're in the clear."
Steve breathed a sigh of relief. "Nat, I don't even know how to thank you." His crystal blue eyes skimmed over all of the photos, landing on his parents. This was now one of probably three pictures that he had left of them. It meant a great deal.
"Steve, you don't have to. You've been through a lot these past few years. Contrary to what you may think, you have a family. We'll always be here for you." Tony's shouting flowed through the open roof door, although his words were muddled, it created a laugh from the soldier and the spy. "Our dysfunctional, weird family. Whether or not you like it, you're kinda stuck with us."
He looked at the photo again, the pictures of his three families that spanned almost a century. "I'm glad to be," Steve replied, the blush evident on his cheeks as it burned in the cool night air.
"Happy ninety-seventh, Steve," Natasha whispered and planted a soft kiss to his cheek, then took his hand in hers. She led him back down to the party.
Fireworks were still going off, popping in the distance that could be heard even inside the tower, but for once he didn't care. As he looked around to his team, his family, Steve realized that he had never felt more at home. The room wasn't overcrowded or claustrophobic, filled with just the right amount of people and laughter.
"Steve, you gotta talk some sense into Stark! He's firing confetti rockets again!" Clint yelled, pulling Steve into the middle of the room, which was covered in sparkles of every color.
As he tried to get the rockets away from Tony, Natasha sat on one of the barstools, looking out at the chaos unfolding in front of her. Normal team? Hell no. But both she and Steve knew that they wouldn't trade it for the world.
