Author's Note: Alright, I'm back! Sorry this took so long! I got trapped in a TV show. Unfortunately, that TV show ended up betraying me by having an awful second to last season (it was so bad that I literally could not watch the last season even though I had gotten through 7 previous seasons; I'm so mad still). Anyways! Finally back up! Thanks for reading guys! Just letting you know, this is meant to mirror the first two chapters! Also! I'll be using quite a bit of quotes from Endgame. More than I planned to :P Read, review, and enjoy!

SSSSSS

Steve had always been under the impression that his life was pretty good. It hadn't been the easiest life – he'd had a rough time of it recently with two years spent on the roads, trying to fight for his freedom – but it was still a good life. He had his team and his mission. They made it through everything together and nothing seemed quite so tough with them fighting with him, always in his corner.

But then, there was one blight on his life, one single thing that made his life unbearable, unliveable. His soulmate's death.

The soulmate process was sort of complicated, but easy enough when you grow into the idea. The one part that people never talked about, though, was the death of a soulmate. It was said that those who haven't experienced it can't possibly explain it and those who have experienced it never want to talk about it.

Steve could understand why.

He had never in his life felt such crippling pain as when Spiderman died. It was pain unlike any other he'd known. Even now, over three weeks later, his chest still burned, still ached. He wasn't sure that pain would ever go away. And it broke his heart to know that this was happening all around the world. With half the population wiped out, there were millions of people stuck in this same, endless void of pain and misery as he was.

Steve sighed, leaning his head against a post. Captain Marvel said that she was going to be back with Stark at any moment. He wanted to muster some sort of feeling towards Stark, anger for letting Spiderman die, pity for the man lost in space, guilt for not being there, but he couldn't. There was just… a void. An empty emotional landscape that fit in perfectly on this empty earth in this empty universe.

From his side, Rhodey's lips turned down, a hand raised slightly towards Steve like he wanted to do something, to say something. Steve didn't acknowledge it, instead remaining slumped slightly against the wall. He would straighten up at some point. He just… didn't feel like it at the moment.

Lips twisting, Rhodey sighed, "Look, I know the others have talked to you about this and everything and I know they probably did a better job than I'm about to do, but I've gotta try. Steve, I can't imagine how you're hurting right now, but you can't let this destroy you. You're letting yourself go. You've lost too much weight for it to be healthy. Don't think I can't see the bags under your eyes. Nat tells me you haven't eaten a full meal since the snap. You can't let yourself fall apart like this, man."

Steve… wanted to answer, wanted to reassure the other man. Captain America would reassure Rhodey. He just couldn't quite convince himself to answer. So, he just shrugged slightly.

Rhodey frowned deeply again, obviously gearing himself up to say something else, but a large shadow flashing overhead stopped him. They both straightened and looked up to see Captain Marvel floated back down to earth, a spaceship held casually in her arms. Steve couldn't help the brief thought that Spiderman would have fanboy-ed so hard at this. His lips fell into a deeper frown at the thought. Next to him, Rhodey winced.

Then, in front of them, the door to the ship opened. There was a brief hiss and a mechanic whirring before it opened all the way. He saw Stark being supported by a blue mechanical woman and he ran forward. His life might be falling apart (who was he kidding? It wasn't falling. It had already fallen apart as far as it could go) but he wasn't so far gone that he wouldn't help Stark out.

He winced when he got closer to Stark, grabbing him from the blue woman and helping him down the stairs of the craft. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he wanted to ask.

Stark beat him to it, "I couldn't stop him." He sounded so frantic, so panicked at the thought.

Steve's breath left him in a whoosh, "Neither could I."

Stark stopped him, pulling them both to an unsteady stop. His head was barely staying up on his neck and his eyes kept fluttering slightly, but he kept looking straight into Steve's eyes, breathing harshly. He gripped Steve's forearm, staring at him with such pain writ across his face, "I lost the kid."

Fingers spasming against Stark's back, Steve tried to hold in his wince, his instinctual burst of pain. His jaw clenched and his eyes watered. He just barely forced out, "We lost." Because it was both of them. If they'd pulled together sooner, if they'd done things right all those years ago during the Sokovia Accords mess, they wouldn't have had this problem.

Stark opened his mouth, made another sound like he was going to say something else (what else could he say?), but he didn't get a chance before Pepper swooped in, pulling Stark out of Steve's hands and into her embrace.

Steve physically fell back as Pepper pulled Stark away. He took in a deep breath, trying to keep in the emotions that were filling him, bursting out of him like wildfire. His eyes squeezed shut. Spiderman was dead. Spiderman was dead. He had died on that planet so far from home that it made Steve's heart ache.

Stumbling away, Steve shook off Natasha's hand as he kept walking, head down, ignoring the heart-warming reunion behind him. He didn't want his heart to be warmed. He wanted to get drunk and forget this ever happened. He wanted to be away from this place. He wanted to be with Spiderman.

Steve shook his head, blinking rapidly to dispel the tears that had been gathering. He breathed in sharply as he pushed open a door. He didn't want to die. He couldn't do that to Spiderman's memories. It wasn't fair. He needed to remember Spiderman and live on for him. He had to.

And as soon as Stark was feeling better, Steve was going to go up to him and ask him what Spiderman's name was. He'd meet Spiderman's family and his friends, and he'd apologize to them, for making Spiderman's life so hard, for not being able to be there for Spiderman, for letting him die.

As soon as Stark was feeling better.

SSSSSS

Steve didn't get a chance to talk to Stark until they were all talking to him. There was an itching, burning urge in the back of his throat just begging him to ask the question he needed to know, regardless of propriety, regardless of the importance of what they were talking about. He just… couldn't quite convince himself to do it. Not when Stark looked so pitiful. Not when he was shallowly leaning against a chair, IV hooked up to his arm and ribs straining against his skin. He'd ask later.

Steve tuned back into the conversation when Rocket started speaking (as strange as the many things in this time period were, Steve still found himself a little uncomfortable with talking to an intelligent raccoon), "Maybe I am."

Clearing his throat slightly, knowing it did nothing to remove the wrecked quality to his voice that he wasn't sure would ever go away, Steve said, "We've been hunting Thanos for three weeks now. Deep space scans, satellites, and we got nothing. Tony, you fought him." He was aware that his voice was passionless, aimless, broken. He didn't much care.

Besides, Stark's voice had enough passion for the two of them, "Who told you that? I didn't fight him. No, he wiped my face with a planet while the Bleecker Street Magician gave away the stone. That's what happened. There was no fight." Steve winced at the description. Where had Spiderman been? Had he been hurt during the altercation?

Swallowing down his questions (his pain, his will to keep going), Steve pushed, "Did he give you any clues, any coordinates, anything?"

Tony wasn't even really looking at him anymore, drifting even as he sat there and spoke to them, "I saw this coming a few years back. I had a vision. Didn't want to believe it. Thought I was dreaming." Steve's lips twisted down and he shared a concerned glance with Rhodey.

Carefully, Steve said, "Tony, I'm going to need you to focus." Cases like Tony's were hard to deal with in the beginning. Sometimes it was better to let them come back into themselves after time with close friends and family. Sometimes it was better to push them into a mission, into some sort of driven goal. At least, that's how it had been in the war when soldiers dealing with trauma, a loss, and survivor's guilt came back to a headquarters. Steve had had to fight this battle with some of the men he'd rescued from that first Hydra base.

Apparently, he'd chosen the wrong method because Tony's gaze fixed right back on him, razor sharp and filled with enough venom that Steve almost felt something for the first time in weeks. Tony sneered at Steve, "And I needed you. As in past tense. That trumps what you need. It's too late buddy. Sorry. You know what I need? I need a shave." He stood, hand clumsily knocking things off the table, Rhodey desperately trying to stop him from straining himself. Tony stalked over to Steve, voice still shattered in the worst possible way, shards of glass aimed outwards, "And I believe I remember telling you, Cap that what the world needed was a suit of armour around the world! Remember that? Whether it impacted our precious freedom or not – that's what we needed!"

His voice was grating Steve the wrong way. Tony had needed him? That was rich. Stark was the one who kicked him out in the first place! If Stark had just seen what a sham the Accords were, they would have still been working together! And a suit of armour around the world? First of all, what good would that have done? Thanos was already unbelievably powerful by the time he came to Earth. You could not convince Steve that Ultron would have been able to stop Thanos from getting through. Bitterly, Steve spoke his second point aloud, "Well, that didn't work out, did it?" It didn't. Ultron was a failure. A failure that lead to the destruction of Sokovia which lead to the creation of the Accords. Steve didn't blame Tony for it, not completely (how could he? There were too many problems happening at once), but Stark had no room to go around and blame Steve.

Tony's face pulled into a snarl and he moved even closer, Rhodey's expression falling into tense worry, "I said, 'we'll lose.' You said, 'we'll do that together too.' And guess what, Cap? We lost. You weren't there. But that's what we do, right? Our best work after the fact? We're the Avengers. We're the A-vengers. Not the Pre-vengers, right?"

Rhodey splayed a gentle hand across Tony's chest even as Steve reeled with the words. Rhodey quietly said, "That's enough, Tony. You've made your point."

But Tony wasn't done yet, "No, no, no. Here's my point." He swivelled until he was facing a distinctly unimpressed Captain Marvel, "She's great, by the way. We need you. You're new blood. Just make sure that Cap here doesn't try to take a bite out of you. He likes the young ones."

Steve saw red. His muscles jumped and he leaned forward. Rhodey almost jumped in front of Tony, but he paused, seemingly allowing Steve to do as he needed. It was that calm trust that stopped Steve from going further than he wanted to. As furious as he was, Steve recognized that Tony was hurting, that losing Spiderman was hard on him too. He knew that his and Spiderman's relationship had always been a point of contention between the three of them. He couldn't let Tony's words get to him. Tony needed stability and trust in order to get better.

But Tony didn't seem willing to stop. He slouched back towards Steve, "Bunch of tired old mills! I've got nothing for you, Cap! I got no coordinates, no clues, no plan, no options. Zero. Zip. Nada." He paused, leaning forward to make sure that his last words caused the most amount of pain, "No trust. Corruptor. Liar."

Steve opened his mouth, ready to say something, not ready to speak at all because Tony's words hurt him in a way he hadn't thought he could still hurt (the hole where Spiderman's soul had once moved in harmony with his burned and Tony's words were like acid poured into the wound). Tony beat him to it, hand shaking as he ripped the Arc Reactor from his chest, "Here, take this. You find Thanos, and you put that on. You hide. I don't care if you live or die, but he would. This is only for him."

Steve knew who Tony meant by him, but he didn't fully know. He still needed to know Spiderman's name. And this wasn't the right time to ask. This was possibly one of the worst times to ask. But Steve needed to know. He gripped the Arc Reactor, eyes as genuine as he could get them, "Tony, please, what was his name? I only knew him as Spiderman. What was his name? Please."

But Tony's eyes at hardened at the question and he'd started backing quickly away. He shook his head, eyes dark. He fell to the ground, prompting everyone to rush forward. Rhodey fell to his knees with a painful sounding clunk, already reaching out for Tony, shouting his name. Tony just managed to get out, "I'm fine…" before he passed out.

Irrationally, Steve felt a lick of frustration. It wasn't Tony's fault that he fell unconscious. If anything, it was Steve's. He'd pushed at Tony until the man broke. He was awful. He shouldn't have done that. He should have done better. He'd failed Spiderman by hurting his mentor like that.

Steve closed his eyes and shook his head as Pepper and Rhodey carried Tony out of the room, Bruce trailing them demurely. He needed to stop thinking like that. He needed… he needed to get out of there. He needed a mission. He needed to punch somebody. He needed that gaping, pulsing wound in his soul to go away. He needed Spiderman back.

Captain Marvel was eyeing him with something that looked painfully like pity, but then she moved on to talk about taking out Thanos. Steve felt a part of him settle. A mission. He could do that. He could.

FIVE YEARS LATER

The group therapy lessons that Steve kind of leads aren't helping him. He thinks that they help the others, but they don't help him. He sits there, a poster at his back proclaiming the name of the meeting: WHERE DO WE GO, NOW THAT THEY'RE GONE? It's a valid question. It's not one that Steve had been able to answer in five years.

Joe shrugged a little bit at his turn, nodding at the attention they were all giving him, "So… I, uh, went on a date the other day. First time in five years, you know? Sit there, dinner… I didn't know what to talk about. Never had that problem with my soulmate. Never thought I would have to have that problem after meeting him."

Gently, Steve prodded, "What did you end up talking about?"

"Same old, you know? How things have changed, and… my job, his job… How much we miss the Mets," Joe responded, drawing a subdued chuckle from the group, "Then things got quiet. He cried as they were serving the salads."

"How about you?" Mark asked, sounding a little gruffer than usual, but that just meant he was concerned.

Joe ducked his head, "I cried… just before dessert. But… I'm seeing him tomorrow, so…" He let his words trail off.

Tammy gave him a genuine smile and a soft, "Good job."

This wasn't the first time someone had tried going on a date, but it was the first time someone from this group had gotten a second date. Most of the time, one party or the other would break it off because it was too painful. Steve knew that it was certainly too painful. Other than Peggy and maybe Bucky, he'd never considered being with someone other than his soulmate. Even with Spiderman dead… he wasn't sure he could manage it, wasn't sure he'd even be brave enough to make the first step.

But he couldn't tell them that. So, he mustered up a smile for Joe and addressed the whole group, "That's great. You did the hardest part. You took the jump, you didn't know where you were going to come down. And that's it. That's those little brave baby steps you've gotta take. To try and become… not whole again. We have to accept that we can't be fully whole without our soulmates, but we can still be without them. Try and find purpose. I went in the ice in '45 right after I met someone who I thought I was going to be with, regardless of who my soulmate was. Woke up 70 years later. You got to move on. Got to move on. The world is in our hands. It's left to us, guys, and we have to do something with it. Otherwise… Thanos should have killed us all."

There was a grave silence after his words as the people in the room tried to process what he said, tried to take in the words and understand them. Shelly gave a little smile, "Well, I think that inspirational speech was a good way to end the day." Some of the other members gave her startled smiles and she pointed at her watch, "Times up."

Everyone nodded gratefully at her and started packing up their things, sending each other quiet goodbyes. Although the mood in the world was generally more sombre than it had ever been before the snap, there were still times where these meetings were livelier, where they felt like they could have fun.

But today? Jack's soulmate's birthday would have been today, and Joe had just gone on that date. There was a lot to think about, a lot to reflect over. It… it had been a rough session.

Steve sighed, trying to centre himself as he got on his motorcycle. He'd promised Spiderman that he'd take him for a ride one day. Spiderman said that was alright as long as Steve promised to swing around the city on Spiderman's webs. Out of habit, Steve glanced up, almost expected a bright suit to come swinging between the skyscrapers.

He shook his head; that meeting he really gotten to him. He'd broken himself of that habit two years ago when he started coming to New York proper more regularly. For years, he'd dreamed of coming to New York and seeing Spiderman. He'd dreamed that he'd run on the ground until Spiderman stopped swinging and then he'd grab Spiderman, run somewhere without prying eyes, and then take Spiderman's mask off and kiss him senseless. It was a silly, pointless daydream, but Steve had dreamed it enough that he'd looked up at the skyscrapers, searching for scraps of webs for years after Thanos. It was a self-destructive habit, but there were a lot of self-destructive things Steve did for the first few years without Spiderman (without Bucky, without Sam, without Wanda, without T'Challa, without so many others he'd come to rely on).

Blinking, Steve came back to himself and realized that he was almost to the compound. He winced when he realized how much time he'd just lost. That hadn't happened in a while either. There had been times where he'd lose whole days (an entire week on one memorable occasion – that had been the first time he and Stark had spoken cordially with each other in a long time) in his shattered depression.

Honestly, there were times where he wished he couldn't remember any of those first few years. He'd only just gained back the weight and muscle he'd lost in those years of wallowing and crippling depression. He was getting better, though. Setbacks were okay. Not great or ideal, but okay, expected.

Slowly getting off his motorbike, Steve trudged into the base, heart sinking when he saw how close to tears Natasha was. He didn't know what to do, how to react. He wasn't sure he could get through another therapy session. Still, he joked, "You know I'd offer to cook you dinner but you seem pretty miserable already."

Natasha kept going with the easy-going tone, "You here to do your laundry?"

"To see a friend," Steve responded immediately, softly.

She grimaced up at him, "Clearly, your friend is fine." She sent him something that was obviously supposed to be some sort of glare, but her edges had softened too much over the years he'd known her for it to really come off as anything but a plea for help.

Trying to change the mood, Steve said, "You know, I saw a pod of whales when I was coming up the bridge." He remembered that much from his trip to the compound at least.

She raised an eyebrow at him, skin around her eyes still blotchy red, "In the Hudson?"

"There's fewer ships, cleaner waters," Steve shrugged. Now that he was thinking on it further (with a clearer head), the moment would have been good to draw. Maybe he'd draw it and present it at the next group therapy meeting. It might help some of them.

Natasha interrupted his thought process, "You know, if you're about to tell me to look on the bright side, um... I'm about to hit you in the head with a peanut butter sandwich." They both shared a small smile at the conversation, but Steve let his point drop regardless.

He slouched into a chair in front of her, grimacing playfully, "Sorry, force of habit. I don't know. I keep telling people to move on, but… I'm not moving on. I don't think I can move on. Without Spiderman… without a lot of the people we're missing. It's been five years. I keep feeling like I should be over this already, like I shouldn't be so stuck on the past. But I am. And I know that's alright. I get that everyone heals at different rates. It just… I wish I could live a better life. For him."

Natasha gave him a commiserating glance, "Steve, I never really met him, but I heard enough from you that I know that no matter what you did, it would make Spiderman happy. You could spend the rest of your life curled up miserably in bed and he'd still be proud of you. Just the fact that you're going out there and trying to help people is more than enough for him. I know it."

Steve smiled gratefully at her, "Thanks Nat. I'm… trying to remember that."

She smiled back, "That's all anyone asks for, Steve."

His lips twisted into something a little more sardonic, "Don't think you got out of sharing your own feelings."

Natasha ducked her head, rolling her eyes, "I used to have nothing. Then I got this. This job, this team, this… family. And I was… I was better because of it. And even though… they're gone… I'm still trying to get better."

Steve could tell that it had taken a lot for Natasha to open up as much as she did, tears pushing gently at the corners of her eyes again. Steve sighed, "We both need to get a life."

Natasha smirked, "You first."

Then Ant Man came. And he changed everything because… because his idea might just work.

SSSSSS

Steve winced a little bit when Tony sighed the second they got out of the car. He was carrying his kid – Morgan or something like that – in his arms, balanced on his hips. Natasha bit her lip slightly before she looked at Steve, "Maybe I should go talk to him first. Break the ice a little, you know?"

Hanging his head, Steve sighed, "Yeah, probably. Don't want to start this with a fight."

"What? You – you guys aren't on better terms yet?" Scott asked, eyebrow raised judgementally.

Steve sighed again, "It's not that simple."

"The world's gone downhill in a rolling dumpster fire and you guys – the Avengers – were, like, one of the best ways to unify the world. And, what? You guys couldn't get over whatever you were fighting about during Civil War? The Sokovia Accords are toast now. No one around to enforce them or whatever. Can't you just… make up?" Scott asked, expression painfully open.

Frowning, Steve set his jaw, "My soulmate is Spiderman. We met in that battle in Berlin. I never got to learn his name. Those whole two years between our fight and Thanos's snap, I never learned Spiderman's name. Tony knows it. He won't tell me. He didn't approve of our relationship. It's a sore point that the two of us hadn't quite been able to get past." He knew that his voice was clipped, and he was being a lot ruder than he should be in this situation. It just… it really was a sort point. Five years later and Tony still couldn't let go of a grudge long enough to just tell Steve his soulmate's name? That's not a hard thing to ask. Steve wasn't asking for the world.

But Tony was insistent on that point. It was something he would always be insistent on. And besides, it didn't matter anymore. They were going to get Scott's plan to work and they were going to snap everyone back into existence. Spiderman would be there, and Steve would be able to ask Spiderman himself. He didn't need Tony to tell him. (Steve ignored the part of him that would always be heartbroken at the state of his and Tony's friendship).

Natasha came back to the thick, stilted silence that had fallen over the two in the wake of Steve's admission. She raised an eyebrow at them, but didn't say anything, instead leading them over to where Tony was sitting in a porch chair, leaned back, jaw tight.

"Tony," Steve said, nodding to him as amicably as possible.

"Steve," Tony said back, managing an almost genuine looking smile. Steve's heart clenched. Scott looked between the two of them apprehensively.

Scott opened and closed his mouth a couple times, but he didn't say anything. Eventually, Tony rolled his eyes and pointed to Scott, "Who's that one?"

Natasha answered swiftly, not letting the obviously frustrated Scott talk, "That's Scott Lang. I think you'd know him better as Ant Man. He had an idea and we'd like your help with it."

Tony narrowed his eyes at them. He paused for a long moment before sighing, "Alright bug-man. Lay it on me."

Scot visibly bristled, but at Natasha's knock-it-off look, he settled instantly, demurely explaining his unique circumstances and plan.

The plan which was instantly rejected by Tony. He barely gave them a chance to argue their point before shutting them down. He wasn't going to help.

Honestly, Steve thought it was going to end the way most of his conversations with Tony ended – loud, screaming fights – but Morgan rushed out instead, latching onto Tony's leg before he picked her up, settling her in his lap. She blinked up at him, "Mommy told me to come and save you."

He ruffled her hair, tucking her closer, "Good job. I'm saved." He turned back to them, "I wish you'd come here to ask me something else. Anything else. Honestly, I… I missed you guys, it was…" He trailed off. Steve thought he wasn't going to say anything else, but then Tony suddenly rallied, sending them a brittle smile, "Oh, and table's set for six."

Steve felt his heart clench again. He tried one more time, "Tony, I get it. And I'm happy for you, I really am. But this is a second chance. This is… I don't know how to live without him, Tony. And there are a lot of people facing the same problem."

For a second, something vulnerable cracked in Tony's eyes, but then it was gone, and he was just holding tight to Morgan again, "I got my second chance right here, Cap. I can't roll the dice again. If you don't talk shop, you can stay for lunch."

Tony and Steve held each other's eyes for a long moment. Sighing, Steve broke contact, "Alright, Tony. We won't talk shop." Steve wasn't sure if the relief on Tony's face was from the fact that they wouldn't bring the plan up again or if it was because they were staying for lunch. Both options hurt.

Steve pushed the thought away and allowed Morgan to grab his hand (he'd had to duck down for her to be able to grab it) and lead him into the house proper. Pepper beamed at him when he came in, "Steve! It's so good to see you!"

"Hey, Pepper," Steve said, pulling the woman into a one-armed hug (his other arm was still trapped in Morgan's grip).

Pepper smirked at him, "I see you've made friends with my daughter."

"Well," Steve laughed, "She's very persuasive."

"Just like her mother," Natasha smiled, hugging Pepper strongly.

"And who might you be?" Pepper asked as Tony walked in with Scott trailing awkwardly behind.

Scott pointed to himself, "Who, me?" Tony and Pepper gave him identical incredulous looks and Steve had to fight a smile. Scott blushed, "Right, right, sorry! Uh, I'm Scott! Scott Lang. Ant Man?"

Pepper smiled charmingly, "Well, hello Scott. It's nice to meet you. I'm Pepper. This is Morgan. And you've already met my husband."

"Yes. We just – uh. Yeah. Yes," Scott said, ending with an awkward half-smile. Steve coughed into his palm to remove the urge to laugh.

Pepper's eyes were sparkling. Morgan was practicing a haughty look of disdain. Tony was using the perfected version. Natasha was rolling his eyes. Steve… Steve felt a little part of his heart piece itself back together.

They sat down to eat.

Before he'd even started eating, Steve told Pepper, "Thank you so much for the meal. Sorry to drop in on your unannounced like this."

"Oh, it's alright. I always make too much anyways," Pepper said, waving a hand.

Tony rolled his eyes and told Steve, "She's not kidding. We end up with leftovers for days. I'm like, just halve the recipe dear. But no. Mommy never listens to me, isn't that right, Morgan?"

"It's because she has better ideas," Morgan told him very seriously.

Tony splayed a hand over his chest in mock indignation, "And why do you think that, little girl?"

Morgan blinked innocently at him, "That's what Mommy says."

Pepper snorted into her drink and Scott sighed, "That's what Maggie always tells Cassie. Well, you listen here sweetheart, daddies have very good ideas, too, okay? And yours is very smart. Besides, dads are more fun." He whispered that last bit, leaned over the table so he was on eye-level with Morgan.

Morgan giggled in response, "Who's Cassie?"

"That's my daughter. She's… she's all grown up now. Sixteen years old," Scott said, swallowing slightly as he fell into memories. Steve remembered with a wince that Scott had missed five of those years. Scott physically shook the memories away, grinning at Morgan, "I'll let you know a secret about growing up, though. It's great to grow up! But you'll have the most fun while you're a kid. I mean, look at me, I'm still a kid now! And I have more fun than these losers!" Morgan giggled again and the two of them started some sort of excited conversation.

Pepper and Tony held hands and looked at their daughter fondly. Steve felt his heart clench. He and Spiderman had talked about having kids. Idly. His hand rubbed over the soulmark, over the crushing last words of his soulmate. He didn't even realize he was doing it until he realized Tony was giving him a tragic expression. Steve's eyes widened and he dropped his hand into his lap, squeezing it into a fist under the table.

"So," Pepper began, glancing between the two men carefully, "What have you guys been up to?"

"I've been coordinating with a few others to just… deal with humanity's problems. You know how it is," Natasha said, sending Pepper a wan smile. Pepper sent one back.

Steve cleared his throat slightly and answered, "Sometimes I help Nat out, but most of the time I'm running group therapy sessions. I've got a couple for several different types of issues. I've got an art group therapy class. I like running that one a lot." Tony's eyes skittered to the clearly drawn picture of a heart made out of webs, a spider dangling cutely from the bottom. Steve turned back to Pepper.

Pepper smiled, "That's so sweet! How's the art?"

Steve winced playfully, "Some are… better than others. There's one guy in there that should honestly make a career out of his art. The friend he dragged in with him? Not so much. I mean, I'll never fault someone for trying to get better. God knows I was a wreck when I first started drawing."

"How old were you when you started?" Natasha asked curiously, chin balanced on her hand.

Leaning his head back, Steve thought, "Hm… probably when I started getting sick more often. I mean, you guys know about me, about what I was like before the serum. I was sick all the time. When I got really sick, I'd just stay in the house and draw. We couldn't really afford any sort of board games or anything, but we could normally get some scraps of paper and some pencils."

From next to him, Natasha snorted, "When I was still with SHIELD, I saw your military application. Sorry, applications. You had quite the list of health issues."

"Applications?" Scott asked, coming back into the conversation.

Steve blushed, "I, uh, got rejected from the military several times. The only reason I got in in the end was Erskine. Otherwise I kept getting rejected for my health issues."

"What all did you have?" Pepper asked curiously.

Steve blushed again, clearing his throat, "It wasn't really that much."

Delightedly, Natasha informed them, "He had Asthma, Scarlet Fever, Rheumatic Fever, Sinusitis, chronic or frequent colds, high blood pressure, palpitation or pounding in heart, easy fatigability, heart trouble, nervous trouble of any sort, has had household contact with tuberculosis, and parent/sibling with diabetes."

Tony coughed on his drink, "Jesus, Cap. How did you survive to adulthood?"

"Old fashioned remedies. All the weird, old fashioned, cheap remedies we could find," Steve said, wincing in remembrance of some of the stranger ones.

Tony narrowed his eyes at him, "Old fashioned as in what we, today, consider old fashioned? Or old fashioned as in, when you were young, it was old fashioned."

Steve tipped his head to the side, "Both, but, unfortunately, mainly the latter."

Tony coughed into his hand, obviously trying to stifle a laugh, "That's… unfortunate."

"Unfortunate is an understatement. You don't understand how amazing your medical techniques are. I mean, they're still way too expensive, but seriously! Of course, when I don't need to use medicine anymore, it becomes a lot more advanced. Real convenient," Steve groused, waving around his food on his fork.

Pepper burst out laughing, "Sorry, I'm sorry! I just… you're too cute, Steve. I'm sorry."

Steve blushed again, chuckling softly, "Yeah, I get that a lot. Whenever the older ladies in the apartment building had to help me carry the groceries in it and I'd be embarrassed, they'd say the same thing."

Natasha and Tony snorted at the same time. Scott burst into laughter before abruptly cutting it off, "I'm so disillusioned right now."

Steve gave him a concerned glance, but Pepper brought his attention back to her, "Did you ever want to be an artist professionally?"

"No way. Artists don't make nearly enough money. Mom was working several jobs. I was working several jobs just to keep the two of us afloat. Well, during the Great Depression at least. It wasn't so bad during what you call the Roaring 20's. I mean, I was pretty young during that bit," Steve answered, shrugging.

Morgan stared at him with a wide-open mouth, "You're really old."

Startled, Steve laughed, "Yeah, I suppose I am. Nat and your dad make fun of me for it all the time." He ignored Tony's wide-eyed look at his statement.

She narrowed intelligent eyes at him, "You don't look old, though."

Steve smiled gently, "Yeah, well, I'm special that way. I slept for a very long time. I slept for a lifetime, but I didn't age while I slept."

"That sounds really sad," Morgan said.

Gently, Steve reached over Natasha and ruffled Morgan's hair, "It was for a little bit, but I found a great team to make it not so sad anymore."

Pepper let out a wet laugh, but didn't comment on what Steve said, instead just asking, "Anyone want some dessert?"

SSSSSS

Steve stood outside the compound, leaned back up against a wall, trying to control his breathing. That sucked. They were lucky they got the right Scott back at all. What was he thinking? Why did he assume he could do this? This plan was crazy!

He screwed his eyes shut, taking a few more calming breaths. The sound of a fast car broke his concentration. He opened his eyes to see Tony driving into the compound, car zooming straight past Steve before stopping and rolling backwards for a few seconds.

Steve rolled his eyes. Typical Tony, showing off with a dramatic entrance. He wondered when that stopped getting on his nerves. He wasn't sure he'd been amused by something like that since the Civil War. Maybe earlier.

Tony stepped out of the car, raising an eyebrow at Steve, "Why the long face? Let me guess: He turned into a baby."

"Among other things, yeah," Steve answered with a sigh. He nodded towards the car, "What are you doing here?" It sounded harsher than he'd been intending, but his emotions were out of whack at the moment. (They'd been out of whack since Spiderman died).

Tony completely ignored him, walking towards the trunk of his car, "That's the EPR paradox. Instead of pushing Lang through time, you might've wound up pushing time through Lang. It's tricky. Dangerous. Somebody should have cautioned you against it." He gave Steve an expectant look over his sunglasses.

Steve managed something approaching a smile, "You did."

Head tilting to the side in faux shock, Tony asked, "Oh, did I? Thank God I'm here. Regardless, I fixed it. A fully functioning Time-Space GPS. I just want peace. Turns out, resentment is corrosive, and I hate it."

Steve sighed, "Me too."

"We got a shot at getting these stones, but I gotta tell you my priorities. Bring back what we lost? I hope, yes. Keep what I got? I have to, at all costs. And… maybe not die trying would be nice," Tony added.

Laughing, Steve nodded and held out his hand, "Sounds like a deal."

Tony fixed him with a small smile before reaching into the trunk of his car. He glanced at Steve for a moment, hesitating, before he pulled out the Captain America shield. Steve felt his heart stop in his throat. He… he hadn't used that shield for seven years. He looked at Stark, "Tony, I…"

Tony shook his head, "I want you to have it."

"I hate to ask this, but why? What does this mean?" Steve said. Without waiting for an answer, he gingerly lifted the shield from Tony's hands, fitting his arm in carefully. It fit perfectly.

Tony waved a hand in front of his face, "Honestly, I've got to get it out of the garage before Morgan takes it sledding." Steve shot Tony a look, not letting him get away with blustering his way out of the conversation this time. Tony grimaced at him, but answered honestly, "The kid would want you to have it. And… maybe it's a sign. Maybe I'm starting to trust you again. We're not back to full strength or anything like that. But, maybe. Maybe we're getting there. Maybe I'm ready to start getting there. Having a kid really does wonders for maturity, honestly."

Steve hesitated for a moment, not sure if his words would be taken kindly, before admitting, "Spidey and I… we talked about it. Adopting kids, I mean. I know we both started researching into programmes where you can adopt mutant kids."

Taking a deep breath, Tony sent Steve a strained (but truly, beautifully, genuine) smile, "Well, maybe you'll get a chance."

"You think so?" Steve asked, voice neutral.

Eyes flicking towards Steve's, Tony said, "I know what you're fishing for here. I'm not ready to be giving you permission or whatever. I'm not even really the person you should be asking for permission. I'm not the kid's dad. And I'm not… I can't talk about him. Not yet. I don't… not yet. You've gotta earn that. Deal?"

Steve smiled (it was the closest he'd gotten to a real smile since Thanos snapped away the love of Steve's life), "Deal."

SSSSSS

Steve hadn't wanted to deal with the explosion of the compound. Steve hadn't wanted to fight Thanos. Steve hadn't wanted to pick up Mjolnir. Steve hadn't wanted to tighten his shield on his arm, standing up to face Thanos, to face his 'children,' the Chitauri, the Outriders.

All he'd wanted to do was rip his shirt off and see if his soulmate was back to it's normal red, white, and blue.

He'd expected to be able to feel something. He'd certainly felt something when Spiderman died. He had thought it would be the same when Spiderman came back. But it wasn't. There was nothing in Steve's soul that felt healed, that felt whole again. He didn't know if Spiderman was alive. Did it work? What if, somehow, Spiderman wasn't brought back?

But he couldn't think like that. Not right then. Not when he was the only thing standing between Thanos and the world. Thanos looked at him, ugly sneer plastered across his face, "In all my years of conquest… of violence… of slaughter… it was never personal. But I'll tell you now… what I'm about to do to your stubborn, annoying, planet… I'm going to enjoy it. Very, very much."

Steve swallowed. He stood a little taller. He couldn't win this fight. He wouldn't be able to win against Thanos alone, let alone the enormous army that Thanos had called to him. Steve didn't stand a chance.

And then his communicator crackled. He blinked; who could that possibly be? His heart stopped in his throat when Sam said, "Cap, can you hear me?" He couldn't even respond. Was this? Was this real? Sam continued, "Cap, it's Sam. Can you hear me?" When Steve still didn't respond, Sam said, "On your left."

Mouth hanging open, Steve watched some glowing circle thing pop up. It expanded until, incredibly, T'Challa was standing there, Okoye and Shuri on either side. Behind him, there was an entire army of Wakandans, standing tall and proud. How… how was that possible? How could they be there? Steve could see in front and behind the portal (for what else could it be?) and there was nothing behind it. That was incredible.

What was even more incredible was the feeling when Sam flew out of the portal. Steve put a hand to his mouth, something in his soul unclenching at the sight. As he watched, dozens more portals opened up. Warriors from every race, species, type were standing there, fierce expressions on their faces. Steve's eyes zipped passed Bucky (oh thank God Bucky was alive, that's all Steve could ask), Groot, more Wakandans, Wanda, Pepper (in an Iron Suit of all things), the woman Scott had called Hope, Valkyrie and the Asgardians (prepared for battle, appearances as glorious and regal and powerful as if they'd never left their kingdom in the first place), what Rocket had described as Raiders, a group of people wielding some sort power that appeared to be magic.

He saw a portal open that showed Doctor Strange, floating in the air, cape swirling dramatically behind him. Rocket's team stood behind him, Star Lord, Mantis, and Drax if Steve remembered Rocket's stories correctly.

And there… flipping to the front of the group with all the grace and flare he was known for… was Spiderman.

Steve really felt his heart stop in that moment. It was Spiderman. It was Spiderman.

For one short, glorious moment, the two made eye contact. Steve wanted to run to him, to hug him, to pull him to his side and never let go. Spiderman's mask snapped back out of his way and he grinned at Steve, bright and beautiful and full of so much love that Steve felt like he could just overflow with it.

They were perfectly in-tune. They were perfectly matched. With a shared grin (filled with elation, with joy, with pure happiness, with more love than Steve knew what to do with), they both turned back to the battle. Steve called into the sudden silence, "Avengers!"

He shared one more grin with Spiderman, revelling in the giddy smile on Spiderman's face before he finished, "Assemble."

As one, they charged.

Even though the battle was chaos on a level that Steve had never experienced before, he was always hyper-aware of Spiderman's position. It was imprinted in the back of his mind, pressed there like a homing device, comfortably nestled in his mind.

His heart almost stopped when Spiderman got the Infinity Gauntlet and a large portion of Thanos's troops instantly centred in on him. He didn't need to worry because Spiderman decimated. He left behind a trail of dead aliens, swinging and hopping from place to place, fighting with a preternatural grace that astounded Steve. God, he was so beautiful.

He heard Spiderman scream out behind him, "Help! Somebody help!" Steve wasn't close enough. He wasn't close enough to help.

Steve's breath stuck in panic, but he saw Pepper flying in. Frantically, he waved his arms to get her attention. She glanced over at him and looked over to where he was pointing. She nodded to Steve as soon as she saw Spiderman. Steve called out to his love, "Hey, Queens! Heads up." Just as Spiderman turned to look at him, Pepper snatched him up and away from the aliens dogpiling him. Steve could breathe again.

And then Tony was holding up a fist full of Infinity Stones and delivering some dramatic line like the loser he was and no, Tony, no, you can't survive that please don't do this we can defeat him some other way no one has to die Tony, no please.

Snap.

Steve breathed hard in the empty silence after the horrible battle. He locked eyes with Thanos as the man (monster) realized his fate and collapsed into a sitting position, accepting his death with a bowed head.

Numbly, Steve turned his head towards where Tony was. Spiderman was curled as close to Tony as he could. They were having some sort of conversation that Steve couldn't quite hear (and wouldn't listen to anyways. Steve wouldn't interrupt this, never this. He wouldn't take away this last moment). But when Spiderman started crying, pulled gently into a backwards hug by Rhodey and Pepper, Steve moved forward.

He brushed them aside as gently as he could. He gripped Spiderman, pulling him into as much of a hug as he could while Spiderman was still crying and gripping Tony's suit. There was a brief flash as Spiderman's shoulder brushed against Steve's mark. He could feel the touch washing away the last taints of death that had lingered on the mark, renewing it and giving Steve that feeling of whole that he'd been missing. Even as his heart broke watching Tony slowly succumb in front of him, Steve felt himself healing.

Voice choked with emotion, Steve whispered, "Tony…" Spiderman sobbed in Steve's arms.

Tony offered as much of a smile as he could, one half of his face horribly burned by the Infinity Stones, "Steve."

Steve reached around Spiderman, gripping Tony's other hand, "Tony, I…" He didn't know what to say.

Shaking his head, Tony spoke slowly and carefully, "Just… wait Steve. Let me. I… wanted to do something. Guess this is my last chance. Steve… meet… Spiderman. Or, also known as… my intern… Peter Parker."

Author's Note: One more chapter left! I swear the next chapter will have a happier ending! Happy endings for the win! Thank you guys so much for reading this!