CHAPTER FORTY-SIX – Rum is for Drinking, Not for Burning

Natasha led me into the apartment, our bodies moving almost mechanically, defiant against the weariness of limbs and thoughts, the emotional strain passed into emptiness until Sara's cries jolted me from my dreamlike daze.

"Sara!" I bolted into the bedroom discovering my granddaughter alone in her crib, ashy remains on the floor. "It's okay, mon amour," I murmured cradling her in my arms, the warmth of her tiny body something real to cling to. "You're safe now."

"Where's Mariko?"

Natasha followed my gaze to the floor.

"She's gone, like the others." I blinked back tears, kissing Sara's head of wispy black hairs.

Natasha fell back against the door frame, fatigue striking her down. "I can't believe this is happening."

I couldn't bring myself to string another sentence together. No comfort would arise in words or even actions. We'd seen our fair share of death and destruction in our lives, but nothing hit so close to home like Thanos' simple action of snapping his fingers.

He won. We lost.

Steve and Bruce entered the apartment sometime later discovering me and Natasha sitting on the bed, lost in a haze of exhaustion. Steve dropped gently beside me while Bruce helped Natasha to her feet, the two of them walking gingerly out of the bedroom.

"Mariko?" Steve whispered.

"Gone."

He tugged off his gloves, letting them carelessly drop to the floor. The rough sigh slipping from his lips drew my gaze, he ran his hands back through his dirty mop of hair, damp blue eyes lingering on the cot position before us.

"I'm sorry… I couldn't…" his voice cracked, a violent tremor in his hand stealing his attention. "I don't know what to do."

"We go home."

He glanced at me, pained expression mirroring mine. "We go home?"

"We go home." I stated.

"We go home." He agreed quietly.

-x-

My old friend grief, came at me in waves, consuming my entire being. Sara was the only reason I dragged myself out of bed and became a living shadow. I didn't trust her to be left with anyone, as if leaving her would be a painful reminder of everything we'd lost. Seeing her, touching her, brought solace to the living nightmare.

My old quarters at the Avengers Facility became our hideaway, far from the serious discussions Steve conducted, vainly searching for answers to bring back all the souls lost in the Snap. His lingering hope got on my nerves, provoked the anger bubbling under the surface.

I feared if I lingered too long in his presence, I'd lash out. We already walked on eggshells around each other, an angry snap away from coming to blows.

Manicured grounds commanded my eyeline, bathed in hues of afternoon sunlight it created a romantic picture I intended to drown with a constant flow of scotch. The grief I felt – the guilt – I couldn't bear to feel anything anymore.

"You're starting to worry Steve."

"I'm worried I don't hear you approach anymore." I drained the glass, turning to face Natasha.

Though she put on a brave front, there were obvious signs she wasn't sleeping. I'd seen her myself staring at a computer screen into the early hours of the morning, searching, desperately for her own answers.

"I've lost my touch."

"You haven't lost it, you've buried it."

Fighting an eyeroll I poured myself another drink.

"I didn't think you could get drunk," she commented casually.

"I can't, not for my lack of trying. Do you want one?"

She shook her head.

"Are you going to scold me, or is Steve working up to deliver an almighty speech to my conscience?"

"Don't be mean, he doesn't want to see you like this anymore than I do."

"Sorry to disappoint you both," I gave her a resigned shrug and took a sip.

"You know Bucky wouldn't want this for you." Steve appeared beside Natasha, giving her a curt nod for her to leave us alone. "Neither would Michael."

"Wow, using my dead husband and son to make me see reason… sorry, you're appealing to the Gin you used to know," I took a turn around the room next to mine and Sara's sleeping quarters. "She was foolish, always clinging to some hope everything would work out in the end no matter what went wrong. Boy, was she wrong or what?" I polished off my drink and went in for another round.

"Never figured you'd give up."

"It's not giving up, it's accepting fact. Do you really think I'd be sitting around this mausoleum if I thought for a damn second, I could do something to bring my family back?"

Steve didn't answer. He couldn't.

"It's not so pretty when the tables are turned, is it? You don't like I've accepted this is reality. I know they're dead–"

"Don't say it like that."

"There's no do-overs, Steve, we lost and paid the price for it. We're human after all!"

"I can't accept that."

"Then good luck to you," I toasted him with a mocking smile. "Enjoy your long life searching for the unattainable."

He stole the glass from my hands as I passed. "This isn't the answer either. Sara needs you with a clear head."

"Clear head?" I spat. "I think clearer than any of you! She's the only reason I haven't put a Glock in my mouth and ended this pathetic excuse of a life! The only God damn reason."

The anger spilled out of me like an open bloodied wound.

"Sometimes I just want to punch you in your perfect face."

He set the glass on the bedside table. "Go ahead if you think it'll make you feel better." He faced me, almost holding his arms open for a free shot.

"Captain America, ready to serve no matter the cost," I retorted unkindly. "We've been having this argument for two weeks now! When will you just give it up? We can't change what happened, they're gone!"

"I'm not gonna give up on you, Gin. We'll figure something out, we always do."

I delivered a fierce slap to his cheek, determined in my defiance. Hands slammed into his hard chest, fighting against the pillar of hope I longed so badly to tear down until he crumbled like I had.

"I'm not leaving you, Gin."

His arms wound around me, holding me flush against him until my squirming stilled. Lost in the warmth of his clean, earthy scent, my anger snuffed out as my arms curled around his waist.

We stood silently in place for a long time, at least until my racing heart calmed.

"I'm always gonna be here for you," Steve murmured drawing my gaze to the face seemingly uncapable of telling a lie. "We're a team, right? You and me against the world?"

"No, not anymore." I shoved him away storming out of the room, walking away from the last reminder of my past.