Beautiful moodboard created by @ashsblurbs thank you so much! 💖
Lifting his head, Steve glanced around the jet. The twins were sitting with Natasha and Clint on two of the middle benches, their heads tucked together as they softly talked, while Sam and James were manning the cockpit, each taking two hour shifts on the controls to help ensure they would both be as fresh as possible once they landed in Wakanda.
And Bruce, in typical Bruce fashion, was sitting curled up on the floor, wrapped in a blanket as he listened to the opera he favoured to help calm him after hulking out.
Or, in this case, after watching one of his best friends get killed by Thanos, along with his brother. Steve had once thought it impossible that he could ever feel any sympathy for Loki after what he’d done during the Battle of New York, but from what Bruce had described, both his and Thor’s ends had been brutal.
Likely the same fate that awaited anyone who dared to challenge Thanos and lose.
Which is why we can’t lose, Steve thought firmly, wishing with everything in him that he believed it.
We cannot lose. There’s just too much at stake.
In his hand, Steve held his tiny sketchbook, turned to the drawing of Tony and Peter cuddled up on the couch in the Malibu house. He bit down on his bottom lip as he carefully traced the outline of Peter’s round cheek, tears welling in his eyes as he recalled the moment that the sketch had captured. So soon after their return from Afghanistan and trying to deny his growing feelings, Steve had been almost overwhelmed with affection for the two of them in that moment, with Peter’s head resting on Tony’s chest and Tony’s arms tightly around him, as though he had feared that even in sleep, his precious boy would somehow be snatched away from him.
It was something that Steve now understood all too well. His fear that he would somehow lose the husband or son that he loved beyond reason had never been more profound than it had been down in that Miami hospital, when he kept vigil over them both for weeks as they fought for their lives.
But even then, during that awful time of uncertainty, Steve had still been able to see them, to talk to them and touch them and hold their hands, even when they couldn't respond. Steve had always been a very tactile person; one of the many reasons why he was always so affectionate with his beloved boys. He craved the way Tony’s strong body moulded into his, the feel of the bare skin of Tony’s back against his chest and the scratch of his facial hair as he held him at night, and the touch of his lips against his. And with Peter, Steve never passed up an opportunity to give him one of his papa-bear hugs, to ruffle his downy-soft hair or clap a hand on his shoulder.
Now, though, they were gone, somewhere out in the vastness of space. And all he had left was their picture.
If only his arms had been strong enough to hold onto them.
They’re okay, he thought, almost defiantly. They’re gonna be okay. Peter’s with Tony. They’ll look out for each other.
Steve simply had to assume that they were okay. Otherwise, there would be no way he’d be able to lead the team through what they’d likely be facing once they arrived in Wakanda.
The full chapter will post on Wednesday, November 25th 😊