The Fourth of July

"Wake up, Sleeping Beauty." Steve felt someone's breath on his face, and the melodic voice brought him back from the nightmares. "We have no time to waste."

He opened his eyes slowly. Natasha was sitting on the edge of his bed, smiling, with her hand carelessly placed on his chest. The sunrays coming through the exposed window illuminated her hair, which had been once ardently red, now completely blond. Steve realized he didn't mind if such a view would wake him every day.

"Nat? What are you doing in my room?"

"In my defense, I did knock a few times, but it didn't do much." She stood up and opened his wardrobe as if looking through his stuff was an obvious thing to do. "Tony lent us a car, so I'm taking you on a little trip. Oh, this one." She threw him a shirt. "I like you in blue."

Steve was not awake enough to fully understand what was happening in front of him. He rose to a sitting position and looked at Natasha, trying to focus on the words preceding her charming compliment.

And finally, it dawned on him. The car, the early wake-up, the mysterious trip. Steve could not help but sigh heavily and fall back on his pillows.

"I told you I didn't want any celebration," he complained. "Can't we just order a pizza and stay at home?"

Natasha crossed her arms, glaring at him. Steve had to admit that there was something both sweet and frightening in her attitude.

"Don't worry, Rogers, there won't be any surprise party. No guests, no presents. Just you and me."

Just you and me. As it always should be.

"Okay, okay. Give me ten minutes." Steve got up, ready to take a quick shower and follow Natasha wherever she intended to take him. Bending to pick up his shirt from the floor, he asked, "Can you at least tell me where exactly we are going?"

But when he straightened up, Natasha was already gone.


Two years ago…

Steve got out of the car and looked at the small building in front of him. Landmark Diner Jr. was a place not so original or tempting to visit, but it was open twenty-four hours a day, even today. Tired of traveling, the fugitives needed it; a warm meal and a moment of rest after a few hours of driving.

Although he was very hungry, Steve could not silence the voice in the back of his head, which kept reminding him to take special precautions. In the end, baseball caps weren't the best form of camouflage.

"Sam," he placed his hand on Wilson's shoulder, "are you sure it's a good idea? Someone might recognize us."

"I know the owner, and this place never disappoints. Just trust me."

There was nothing left for him to do but submit to his friend's will. Especially that he was voted down, for as soon as Sam crossed the threshold of the diner, Wanda followed him without a second thought.

The inside was mainly decorated in shades of beige, gray, and brown. Before Steve could look around, his view got covered by a stout middle-aged man who hugged Sam and patted him on the back.

"Somebody pinch me if it's not Mr. Wilson," the man said in a happy voice. "They are saying terrible things about you on tv. I would never... Oh, you have companions... Holy shit... is it..."

"Yes, Captain America himself," Sam confirmed, clearly amused while Steve felt rather anxious. "And this is Scarlet Witch."

After long greetings, stories about serving in the army, and assurances that their identity was absolutely safe, Steve, Sam, and Wanda sat at one of the tables.

Even though they had found a place for a temporary break, the atmosphere stayed tense. The rest of the journey was still unknown. They had to be on the run all the time, sleep only in cheap motels, live in constant hiding... The prospect of such a future was not colorful.

Steve rubbed his face, not letting his thoughts slip in the wrong direction. Yet, he could not get rid of the impression that the images of betrayed Tony and Bucky in cryogenic sleep waited around the corner for a slight moment of weakness. It would be enough just to close his eyes and allow the remorse to settle in his heart.

"What about Europe?" Wanda asked, and only then did Steve understand that he had missed some part of the conversation.

"It won't be easy to leave the country," Sam answered. "We need fake documents, and even if we get them, this gentleman is way too recognizable." He turned to Steve. "Hey, Cap, you can always dye your hair green."

Before he could say anything, a familiar voice surprised him from behind his back, "Damn, that's a thing I wouldn't want to miss."

They all turned to look at their mutual friend. She wore a cloth cap, jeans, and a grey sweatshirt that was several sizes too large for her. Her characteristic red hair was mostly hidden under the cap. When she took her seat next to Wanda and pursed her mouth in a self-satisfied smirk, Steve felt his heart beat faster than it should.

Natasha.

Rogers had not seen her for many weeks, precisely since she'd helped him and Bucky escape. Now she was sitting opposite him, safe and sound, once again choosing his side, even though he would never dare to ask her to do so.

He attempted to say a few things, but none of the noises actually turned into words let alone sentences.

"You're late," Sam was the one to respond, a smile forming on his lips.

"Oh, come on, Wilson. I had to cover my tracks, but any fool can guess that I am with you." She looked through the menu. "Wanda, someone who would like to talk to you is waiting behind the building. Use the bathroom window. You have ten minutes before Tony notices his absence."

Maximoff hesitated only for a brief moment. She nodded, walked past Natasha, and left, almost running into the bathroom.

"Wait," Sam leaned towards Natasha, "don't tell me there is something going on between her and Vision."

"I won't tell."

"Am I the only one who thinks it's a bit weird?" Sam sighed. "I'll order a milkshake for you. Chocolate or strawberry?"

He had the perfect pretext for giving Natasha and Steve a moment of privacy. There were many unspoken things between them, but it was hard to put them into words.

When Sam left, green eyes met blue ones.

"Nat," Steve started, uncertain. "I'm glad you're here, I really am, but… why?"

"After everything we've been through together, Rogers, you shouldn't be surprised by my loyalty."

"Well, Romanoff, there's a chance you might be in the wrong business."

The smile that brightened her face seemed to be powerful enough to take part of the burden off him. He did not have to carry it all by himself anymore. Natasha was at his side, and with her, the world appeared much better. He couldn't help but reciprocate the smile.

At some point, Natasha took him by surprise and left a kiss on his cheek, whispering, "Happy birthday, Steve."


Now…

He had never expected to find himself in this place again, exactly two years later. He warmly remembered the friendly service, delicious food, and the reunion with Romanoff, but now things were way too different.

If not for the soothing presence of Natasha, who grabbed his hand and led him to the diner, Steve would probably retreat.

It was not an easy day. Every year his birthday reminded him of the lost time, and now there was also the painful thought that many of his friends were gone, while he had got another chance from fate.

The owner recognized them without a problem and offered hot dogs and milkshakes at the company's expense. Steve thanked and politely refused not to pay for their meal, but Sam's former friend turned to be exceptionally stubborn when it came to making others happy.

"I'm sad to hear that Mr. Wilson didn't make it." He escorted them to the table. "The world lost a very good man."

His words stayed longer in Steve's head when he was left alone in the presence of his close friend.

The best and perhaps the worst part of sharing his life with Natasha was suppressing the past. Every night Steve dreamed of Bucky uttering his name, fruitless search for Sam, Vision's dead body covered with Wanda's ashes, or Tony's empty stare. Every morning he woke up in his comfortable bed as if nothing had happened. Every day he lived by the illusion of happiness that he had never been destined to achieve.

"I didn't take you for a sentimental kind of person."

His own voice seemed unfamiliar to him.

"I'm far from sentimental," Natasha responded.

"Then what are we doing here?" He looked at her. "Please don't say that we spent four hours in the car just for you to drink a chocolate shake."

"Actually, this time I ordered the strawberry one." Her smile faded when she noticed the sadness clouding his features. "Well, I thought a day out of the apartment would do you good. Perhaps we could have an honest conversation."

A waiter appeared at their table, placing two plates full of hot dogs and a shake before them.

"I'm always honest with you, Natasha. You know that." He grabbed one of the hot dogs and took a bite. "So, what do you wanna talk about?"

"Let's do it this way; we will ask each other two questions that we are curious about. The most important rule is not to avoid answering and to tell the whole truth."

"I wonder why it seems to me that this is not an idea invented spontaneously," Steve teased, forgetting about the whole world for a moment. "You may start."

Natasha only smiled mysteriously. She reached for a hot dog, which was not as bad as she had expected. Unlike Steve, she really enjoyed her time at the diner. He did not have the slightest idea of how much pleasure brought her the fact of being able to distract him from bad thoughts. For her, focusing on the present was simple, but Steve's emotional involvement prevented him from doing so. She had to ask him a private question, not related to the people he had lost.

And so it happened that there was an unresolved matter slightly bothering her, although Natasha deceived herself into thinking she didn't care that much.

"Did you call the nurse?"

His reaction was no surprise to her. He looked at her in amazement, but after a moment his expression changed as if he remembered who he was dealing with.

"Sharon? You know she's not a nurse."

"No stalling, Rogers."

Steve sighed, resting his elbows on the table and maintaining eye contact with Natasha.

"We've never been on a date if that's what you mean. We…," he paused, "we kissed once. I haven't seen her since then. I don't even know if she's alive."

Sometimes hiding feelings was not so easy, even for Black Widow herself. Natasha did not really want to be disturbed by the thought of Steve kissing Sharon. Yet, for some reason, that picture was clear and irritating.

A silent voice in the back of her head reminded her that Steve had spent the last two years with her, not with Sharon Carter.

"You should call her and make sure she's all right," Natasha suggested in a neutral voice. "Who knows, maybe this time circumstances will be more favorable."

"Now's my turn." Steve clearly signaled that the subject of Sharon was finished. "If that's how you want to play, Romanoff… Have you ever been in love?"

They were walking on the thin ground, maneuvering between dangerous obstacles. Natasha took a long sip of the shake, which was cold enough to keep her mind clear.

Sincerity. Steve remained the only person she didn't intend to lie to.

"There has never been a place for love in my life," she confessed, this once avoiding eye contact. "Every intimate relationship always had a deeper, dark motive behind it. It was forbidden for me to fall in love because love was seen as weakness. Black Widow cannot be weak. Bruce was the first person who made me feel something, but I guess it was doomed to fail."

"I'm afraid we're both unlucky when it comes to romantic relationships."

Natasha nodded thoughtfully, cupping the glass with her hands and ignoring the cold feeling on her fingers.

"Well, we're still young," she joked. "I mean I am. How old are you, again? Two hundred?"

"Congratulation, Natasha. You just wasted your second question," he retorted, though he was indeed amused by her attempt at improving his mood. "Two years ago, you showed up at this diner and decided to accompany Sam, Wanda, and me on the run. You said your choice was driven by the loyalty. Are you here with me now for the same reason? Do you think you're bonded to me by some sense of loyalty?"

"You saved my life," she answered quickly.

"Oh, come on, you don't own me. You saved my life, too." He hardly fought the urge to grab her hands. Subconsciously, he felt it wasn't the right moment. Not yet. "There must be something else. There always is."

In his eyes, Natasha could see what was distant, memories of war and pain, but also what he felt now. He stared at her as if her words could make his suffering easier to bear. She saw herself in the blue eyes of his.

In this way, she remembered the old life that now seemed to have been lived by a completely different person. A life filled with darkness, in which there was room for faint light.

"Fine. I'll be honest with you," she started, hoping her eyes would tell him what her mouth might fail to communicate. "You're a legend, Steve. Believe it or not, rumors of the great Captain America even reached the Red Room." He looked at her in surprise. "You were a symbol of hope, a proof that there was still a noble aspiration in the world. Getting to know you, fighting at your side... it was a life-changing experience, a chance to redeem myself. At some point, however, I realized you weren't just the beloved hero. Most of all, you are Steve Rogers. You make mistakes, you listen to your heart like an ordinary human being. It's not the serum that makes you special, but how kind you are."

"Nat-"

"You didn't sign the accords and I thought it was a reckless thing to do but in the end, I followed you. You always have good intentions and I trust your judgment even if it means turning the whole world against us."

Her hands were cold, yet it did not bother him. He covered them with his own, hoping to share his warmth, just as she had shared with him a piece of her heart.

Time had taken Peggy. Hydra had taken Bucky. The Snap had taken Bucky again, Sam, Wanda, Vision, T'Challa, and half of the universe. But not Natasha.

At that moment, when she looked at him with respect and friendship, Steve realized he was a lucky man after all.


Do you like it so far? I have so many ideas for next chapters that I think I'll divide the pepperony wedding into two chapters. There are a few scenes I'm looking forward to writing, not only between Nat and Steve but also of them interacting with other characters. Thank you for all the feedback!