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2016, New York – After the events of Civil War (warning: Spoilers!)

You were biting your nails, looking at the news report that was broadcasted on every channel. The TV screen showed pictures of Captain America and Iron Man fight it out on an airport in Germany, the headlines underneath saying Steve Rogers had gone rogue and was considered to be armed and dangerous. You swallowed hard, watching your boyfriend of several years fight the people he had called friends only days ago.

    You watched the report in silent anticipation, not wanting to watch any of them get hurt, but unable to turn your eyes from the images that shot before your eyes. You had met most of them – were even friends with some – and you couldn’t believe it had come to this. You knew how much Bucky meant to Steve, but you had never thought he would sacrifice everything for his long, lost friend. Maybe even you…

    It had been several hours since the fight on the news, but you still hadn’t seen or heard from him. When he had left for London to go to Peggy’s funeral a day ago (which you couldn’t attend due to your work schedule) he had promised you – pinky promised – to come back as soon as he could. You had called him and everyone you knew – even Natasha who hadn’t been on Steve’s side – but none of them were answering your calls and you started to fear the worst. Steve was either dead, or had run and had left you behind.

    You didn’t know what was worse.

    The CIA and the police had been at your door at least five times today, going through your entire apartment in search for the rogue Captain. You told them each and every time they weren’t going to find him, not in your apartment – or anywhere for that matter – but they didn’t listen and still turned every stone in your home, leaving a mess behind, which you had stopped cleaning after the third time.

    You were putting some clothes into a bag to go to a friend’s house, when you heard footsteps in your apartment. Your heart beat violently in your chest and you reached for your service gun that was hidden in your underwear drawer ever since you had been sent home earlier today (when it had become clear Steve had defied the Sokovia Accords). You listened silently, loading your gun and keeping it close to your chest as you slowly moved from your bedroom towards the living room.

    “Don’t move,” you hissed, pointing your gun at the back of a man’s head. “Who are you?” you asked, watching the man put his hands in the air as he slowly turned around.

    “It is not who I am, but who you are,” the dark skinned man said slowly, observing you attentively. “Are you [Name] [Last Name]?”

    “That’s none of your business. What do you want?” you asked, nodding at him to walk towards your couch.

    “I need you to come with me, miss [Last Name].”

    “The hell I do.”

    The man smiled. “The Captain thought you would say that.”

    “Captain? You mean Steve? Where is he? Is he safe?”

    “Here,” the man said, pulling a small piece of paper from his back pocket and handing it to you. “This will explain everything.”

    “What is that?”

    “I don’t know. I haven’t read it. The Captain told me to give it to you.”

    You hesitantly took it from the stranger’s hand, though keeping your gun pointed at his head. He seemed friendly, but you had learned to always keep your guard up in situations like this. Who knew what this man’s game was.

    Keeping your eyes on him, you opened the folded note, immediately seeing Steve’s handwriting.

    Dear [Name], it read, I know you expected me to be at your door, but as you will know by now that’s not really an option. Bucky needed my help. He still does and I can’t leave him. Not now. I hope you understand, it continued and you could hear Steve say the words in your head. I know it’s selfish of me to ask you to join me and leave everything behind, but I can’t imagine my life without you and I’m not willing to give up on us. It won’t be easy, but I guess it never really was, was it? I know you never asked for any of this, so I understand if I’ll never see you again. Just now that I love you. Yours forever, Steve. P.S. Put the gun down. We both know you’re not going to use it.

    A smile curled your lips and you could feel tears sting in your eyes as you read the last few sentences again. You locked your gun again and tucked it in the back of your pants, looking up at the man before you. “I’m [Name],” you said, offering him your hand.

    “T’Challa,” the man nodded, shaking your hand. “It is nice to meet you.”

    “Is he safe?”

    “As long as he stays within my country, yes, but you know him far better than I do. Do you think he will stay in Wakanda?” he spoke, his brow furrowing upward. “I am not a person to judge,” he continued, “and neither do I want to tell you what to do, but the path Steve has chosen is one of danger. Are you sure you want to follow it?”

    You nodded thoughtfully at T’Challa’s words, knowing you weren’t talking to just anyone. You were talking to a king. And the king was right. This wasn’t the first time Steve had unknowingly and unwillingly put the people around him in danger. You knew the last thing he’d ever want to do was hurt you, but if you followed him this time – like you had done all those times before – there was no going back and whether he’d want to or not, you would get hurt. One way or another.

    “I appreciate your concern, T’Challa, but I have to go. He can’t do this alone and even if he could, I won’t let him. Give me a moment to gather my things.”

    It only took you several minutes to continue packing and get everything of value from your apartment. You never had many materialistic things you cared about, but as you looked around your home you couldn’t help but see all the memories you had made there. How your first date with Steve had ended up with you falling asleep against his shoulder and the super soldier carrying to your bed. How making him dinner for the first time had been one big disaster, but had still earned you your first kiss from the Captain. Hundreds of moments shot through your head and you took in a deep breath, trying to recall each and every moment before following T’Challa out of the door.

    A car was waiting for you at the end of the street and the Wakandan king told you to get in just as a new set of CIA agents with police escort entered your apartment complex. You watched them climb the stairs as the car slowly drove off, taking you from the only city you had ever called home, but towards the man you had loved ever since you had met him during the attack on New York and you had worked together to get people from the line of fire.

    It took several hours to get to Wakanda. You had never been very far outside of the Big Apple, let alone out of America and you felt a bit nervous as you stepped out of the royal jet. The heat of the jungle welcomed you, enveloping you in a thin layer of warm sweat. T’Challa’s people were already waiting for you outside the airport and a familiar blonde head of hair stepped out of the jeep, observing the people that stepped out of the aircraft, frantically looking for you among the king’s entourage.

    Once he had found you, his eyes shifting over your face, you dropped your bags right there and then and ran towards the super soldier, jumping in his arms. You payed no attention to the bruises of battle that marked his face and folded your arms around his neck. His muscles tensed around you and he lifted you from the ground, pressing you tightly against him.

    “I didn’t know if you’d come,” he whispered in your ear, burying his face in your neck and taking in your familiar scent. “I’m glad you did.”

    “Of course,” you nodded, slowly sliding from his arms back to the ground. “T’Challa was very convincing.”

    The super soldier smiled, wiping the hair from your face before pressing a loving kiss on your lips. “I’m glad you didn’t shoot him…”

    A soft laugh escaped your throat. “And I’m glad you sent someone to get me. Don’t ever leave me like that again, Rogers. I was worried sick.”

    “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

    “Pinky promise?”

    Steve laughed, nodding at your words, folding his right pink over yours. “Pinky promise.”

THE END