A/N. This is it, guys! This is the END! I hope you guys enjoy this after credits scene. I wrote it with camera angles and stuff in mind. Maybe I should try my hand at a screenplay one day? Anyway, enjoy and catch you later!

Epilogue

"IS THERE SOMETHING MORE BREWING WITH STANIA?" Screamed the headline in bold, hot pink letters. The article went into slightly more detail, talking about the rumours that the ring of the Avengers' own Sonata, the one that she wore at all times, was actually an engagement ring despite the lack of a big shiny diamond. Sources said that wedding plans were being formulated for an as yet unknown date sometime next year and that it was to be a very private affair.

The article was accompanied by many photos of Tania and Steve, both together and separate at various charity events and sometimes out in public. The biggest photo that took up almost half of the left page of the magazine was a full-body shot of the couple holding hands at the press conference that had been held after the latest Loki incident. There was a red circle surrounding their enjoined hands and efficiently highlighting the blue and silver ring around Tania's left ring finger.

Some speculated it was merely a promise ring, but those anonymous sources told a different story.

The magazine crumpled, bending at awkward angles beneath the strength of thin, feminine fingers that tapered off into well-manicured nails painted a deep blue. The paper gave up and tore in half, its edges becoming jagged and crooked. The two halves shook minutely before falling to the floor. Two drops splashed on the pages.

A pair of converse stepped on them on its way to the couch, where Drew fell into the cushions and cried. Bruises marred her skin from what could be seen of her ankles all the way up to her hairline, tender skin throbbing in nearly every inch of her. There was a cut that had obviously been treated that sat on her forehead and a couple more on her arms and hips. Her lip had been split open and she moved it tenderly as she sobbed.

The house was quiet, filled with furniture and personal belongings but empty except for Drew and the air she struggled to breathe in. It was a lavish house, decorated with posh drapes and animal patterns and metal appliances.

The kitchen smelled like bleach and was cleaned a little too thoroughly. It smelled like the safe house she'd just finished cleaning herself after what happened. There was dirt under her fingernails and wedged in the bottoms of her shoes. Her clothing was unsullied except for the salt water pooling dripping onto her thighs.

Something had happened in the kitchen. Something like what happened at the safe house. She could still hear Rocky's alarmed but protective barking, the smash of a lamp as it shattered on the floor, her own scratchy cries. She could still taste blood in her mouth, feel the part of her tongue she'd nearly bitten off when her jaw had collided with the nightstand.

And then the one person who could possibly help her, who had tried to help her, who could make her feel even the slightest bit better, was dead.

Because of the Avengers.

Another sob tore through her and she slipped forward on the couch, catching herself on the armrest and prying her eyes open. A framed photo sat on the coffee table inches from Drew's face. The picture was of her parents at their wedding, back when they'd been together and happy and in love. It was posed, but the joy was so genuine that it radiated through the glass.

Drew sniffled and gently picked it up, shuffling forward so that she sat on her knees, the frame in her lap. A caption had been engraved into the bottom of the metal frame.

Mr. & Mrs. Alexander Pierce

Married November 14th, 1975

She lightly ran the pad of her index finger over the carved words and numbers, struggling to see them through the blur of tears. "I love you, Dad," she whispered, touching the face of her father in the picture, beaming at the camera. "I'll make them see- see what they've done. I'll show them. I'll make them understand." She sniffled again and harshly wiped at her tears with her forearm. "And if I can't… then I will finish what you started."

The photographed future Secretary of State Alexander Pierce smiled.