The power stone was next. That would take Steve to Morag, the distant alien world where Nebula and Rhodey had attracted the attention of Thanos.
He had the coordinates from their trip, tweaked to arrive ever so slightly behind them. He burst on the planet into water and darkness, a harsh and rugged landscape lapped at by fathomless oceans and skittering with alien creatures. It took Steve a moment to get his bearings. The vista of Morag was strange and lonely, and he wasn't quite used to all this interplanetary stuff.
But more than that, he was wounded and shaken by his last moments in 1970. It should have be small, it should have been nothing. But his heart had been so set on that one last look at her, that to miss it felt almost a physical blow, leaving him bereft to a depth and power that shocked him.
Internally he berated himself. He'd been lucky to come across her the first time; that alone had been a gift. He shouldn't have expected any more; he should have been grateful. Instead, he felt emptier than ever. But Steve had a job to do, and if he'd learned one thing over the years of serving as Captain America, it was to put his own feelings aside when there was work to be done.
Steve opted to do this one in the quantum suit, though he doubted anyone would recognize his regular one out here. Again taking exquisite precaution, he sealed the power stone within the very Orb in which they'd found it, brought back by Rhodey on the last mission. Finally, he retrieved Mjolnir from within the miniaturized kit, wanting to have a weapon near to hand out in this unfamiliar place.
He'd gotten a briefing on the situation from Rhodes and Nebula. Morag was once inhabited many thousands of years ago, but all that remained of it was in ruins, the terrain all but consumed by the oceans that covered most of the surface. Peter Quill, ostensible captain of the ship and crew that Thor had gone off with, had come to a sealed temple on Morag during the periodic receding of the oceans, to steal the power stone on a bounty. It was their seizing the stone before Quill got to it that had alerted Thanos to their presence.
This meant Steve's timing had to be careful. He was to move after Thanos had taken Nebula captive, but before Quill came to put it on its intended path. They didn't know exactly how long they had between the two, but it was essential, Nebula stressed, that nothing stop Thanos from proceeding to travel forward from 2012.
"What about you?" Steve asked her. "I might be able to help you get away. Out of Thanos's hands."
"No," she growled. "You can't risk disrupting the timestream from there."
"Are you sure?" Rhodey asked, very gently. "We know what he did to you."
"Yes." Her expression, inscrutable at the best of times, only grew harder. "This is where Thanos finally fell. I was part of his coming— and you have to let him come."
Steve found himself hard-pressed to argue with that; it was too dangerous to risk any other way. All that remained then, was to avoid Peter Quill, so that the stone would be were he was expecting it at the proper time.
"But that shouldn't be too hard," Rhodes had said. "Quill's, well— he's…"
"An idiot," Nebula finished.
When Steve arrived, Quill was still in a heap where they left him, in a tangle of limbs and the cord of what Steve believed to be a Walkman player. From inside the metallic, insectoid helmet he wore, Steve could still hear something blaring through the headphones, some upbeat pop song. Something from the '70s or '80s, maybe, though his knowledge of music post-1940 was still a little spotty.
Steve took a moment to secure the perimeter and make sure the coast was clear— no trace of Thanos, no one around to interfere. He only knew Quill a little, but he wondered if everyone wasn't a little too hard on him, in their contempt for his heedless dancing through the Morag wastes. Steve personally kind of admired him for it, that fierce pursuit of joy where he could find it, no matter the hard times he'd come through. It was something that Steve himself had never been good at.
It struck him suddenly how more than just Thanos and Nebula had come forward in time— there was Gamora too, the green-skinned warrior woman who was so important to Quill. But if memory served, she had left before the two of them ever had a chance to encounter one another. What would that mean? From their recent efforts he knew the future was not so malleable as they'd feared, but what about this version of Quill— the man lying in an unconscious pile on the landscape, who had no idea he was never going to meet the love of his life?
Steve had to laugh at himself then. Love of his life? How could he know that for Quill? How could he know that for anybody? Not everyone thought about things in those terms. Not everyone had a love of their life. Still, the thought made him suddenly sad again, in a way that brought back the flood of emotion in the wake of leaving Camp Lehigh in New Jersey 1970. Was that better, then? The Gamora that had come forward in time had looked at Quill as if she never knew him. Was it better to love her and lose her, or to never know what you lost?
The coast was clear. There was no more time to waste. Steve turned and made for the temple door, striding past Peter Quill's insensate body on the way.
"Ugh… aw, Jesus."
He spun at the voice behind him. It was Quill, groaning back to consciousness, levering himself up from the tangle he'd collapsed in— with the power stone not yet in its place.
Steve froze for half an instant as Quill struggled to unlatch his helmet. Then he thought fast. He scrambled over and knelt beside the man, affecting a look of concern. "Are you okay, buddy? That was quite a spill you took."
"I did?" Quill looked around blearily, eyes at last coming to focus on Steve. He frowned in confusion. "What— what the hell happened?"
Steve pointed at the mouth of the temple, still gaping open as they'd left it. "I watched you come out of there, then you slipped and took a nasty bump on the head. Looked pretty bad there for a minute."
Peter's eyes were rolling toward to doorway as Steve dug into the pouch on his belt. "Oh, and by the way— I think you dropped this." And he handed over the Orb, power stone safely encased inside.
Quill stared at it for a moment, for once in his life struck dumb. "Oh. Okay, then— thanks!" He tossed and caught it once, then shoved it in the pocket of his coat.
Steve offered him a hand to help him to his feet. Peter squinted at him then, as if really looking at him for the first time. "Hey, who are you? What are you doing out here?"
Steve flashed a smile, the one they used to put in the ads for the war bonds. "Just passing through. Glad you're all right."
He gave Quill's shoulder an encouraging sock, then turned, making a beeline for the first rock formation that would take him out of sight. Behind him, he could distantly hear Peter exulting to himself. "Damn! Am I the best thief of all time or what?"
Steve chuckled, very quietly under his breath, then activated his watch for the jump.
