~*~ Maybe We Don’t Have To Be Okay ~*~

@gracie-j. @keilah-h. @joy-caroline. @lrose5. @ava-blue. @eaw24. Okay y’all, I have a Short Story Marvel fanfic. 😉 Just for background info, this is supposed to take place in the 5 years between Infinity War and Endgame, the time that The Blip lasted. I’m pretty proud of this, lol. XD Any thoughts? 😀

Heeled boots clicked against the concrete floor. Silverware was placed on napkins.

“Shouldn’t Cap have been back from his session already?”

Natasha turned to face Rhodey, who was carefully setting silverware down.

She rubbed one of her boots against her calf. “I think he is. He has to be in here somewhere. I’ll find him. Hey, Rocket, help Rhodey, will you?”

“Fine. Fine.” Rocket muttered, jumping off the counter and onto the table, taking the knives from Rhodey.

“I don’t think I should trust you with knives.”

“Do you have any idea how many dangerous things I’ve done? This is nothing, Iron Boy.”

Natasha rolled her eyes as she walked away. Those two were nuts. But they could make her laugh and smile.

Just like Clint.

Natasha shook her head. She didn’t need to think about that. She didn’t know where her best friend was.

Only that he was going around getting revenge on villains, who took his entire family away from him.

Natasha only hoped, wherever he was, that he was safe.

She hoped the same for Yelena.

Bruce and Thor were missing, Tony had a family now and moved away, and that left her and Steve to live in the Avengers compound along with Rhodey, and Rocket, who decided to move in.

Without permission, of course.

A loud thud and break of metal stopped her in her tracks. She knew it.

Natasha quietly stepped into the gym, using her learned skills to remain silent.

And there he was.

Replacing the punching bag, as the other was broken and sitting against the wall, the metal chain that had kept it up laying on the floor beside it.

The moment he had the new bag up, Steve was going at it, with even more aggression and helplessness than Natasha had ever seen.

She heard his grunts, groans, sighs, and curses.

“Are you going to break all of the bags we have?”

Steve turned, quick, his eyes wide.

“Easy Steve. It’s just me.” Natasha whispered, stepping forward.

Steve’s eyes went back to normal, but his body still looked tense. He ran a hand through his blonde hair. “I…I didn’t realize you were there.”

“What else would you expect?” Natasha asked playfully.

Steve didn’t even smile.

“How did another session go?”

“Fine. Still the same. Everyone is trying to figure out how to live. You know, get back to some kind of normal,” Steve punched the bag again, hard, “but no one seems to be doing much better. If at all.”

“I’m sure that’s hard.”

Steve punched the bag again, even harder. “Nothing I can’t handle.”

Natasha knew to not respond to that. Instead, she stood still and silently watched as he went after the punching bag again.

And again.

And again.

Steve hit it one more time, even harder than all the times before it, and pulled his hand away with a hiss.

Natasha went to his side.

The cloths, wrapped around his fists, were ripped. “Steve, your hands are bleeding.”

“I know. But I’m fine.” He tried to pull away.

Natasha held his wrists tighter.

She didn’t care if she made imprints on his wrists. “Stop it with the punching bag. Your wounds need to be taken care of. You can go after the punching bag in a little while after you give your hands a break. Alright?”

Slowly, Steve nodded.

Natasha smiled and nodded. “Good. Now, I’m going to go get bandages and medicine out of that closet right there, so you can go over there,” Natasha pointed at the couch that had been placed in the gym right nearby, “and sit down.”

She let go of Steve’s wrists and began heading towards the closet. Then she turned around. “Steve, sit down.”

Steve merely looked at her, biting his lip. “I really don’t need you to take care of them. This happens all the time, Nat. It’s not a big deal. I can handle it.”

“Sit down, please, Steve. I just want to help you out a little this time.” She opened the closet and quickly found the medical supplies Tony had put in there, “just in case”. For once, she was thankful for how careful he was.

She turned back around. “Steve…I said, sit down.”

“Natasha, I can handle this myself. You don’t-”

“Steven. Grant. Rogers. Sit down. Right now.”

Steve obeyed, fast. “Yes Ma’am.”

Natasha grinned and walked over to him, sitting down beside him on the couch, sitting sideways so she could face him.

She carefully began unraveling the cloths wrapped around his hands. “Steve, how often does this happen?”

Steve shrugged. “I don’t know. A lot more recently, I guess.”

“You’ve been in the gym a lot lately.” Natasha replied softly.

Steve shrugged. “It helps me think.”

“Beating the crap out of yourself helps you think?”

Steve’s cheeks flushed slightly. “No. Beating the crap out of the bag helps me think.”

Natasha nodded. Began wiping blood away before applying the medicine to Steve’s open cuts.

“Counseling all those people…do any of them ever ask about you?”

Steve shrugged again. “Not really. But I’m a man from another time. I’ve already adapted once before. I can do it again.”

“That doesn’t mean it’s easier for you than everyone else, Steve.”

“I can handle this, Nat. I can take care of myself. I can do anything.”

“Sure you can. But you shouldn’t be doing it alone.” Natasha whispered, wrapping his hands up with bandages and pressing, hard, to stop the blood flow. “And that doesn’t mean you need to keep coming into the gym to hide and pent out all your anger and pain and not address it with anyone.”

“Everyone needs me.”

“Yeah, Steve, you know what? We do. But if you’re going to be throwing yourself away like this, then I don’t want nor need you.”

“I’m not throwing myself away, Nat, I just…” Steve’s gaze fell, “I just don’t know what to do anymore. Punching a punching bag has always helped to…to…”

“Make the memories go away.” Natasha finished, knowing.

Steve slowly nodded. “Yeah. Back then, it was the war. Sometimes they still are…but now…there’s other things…”

Natasha nodded.

And again, she saw Steve sitting on the ground where Bucky had disappeared into dust, back all those years ago, dust clutched in his hands, saying; “Oh God…oh God…” over and over again.

“…other things that keep coming back.”

“It’s about Sam and Bucky…isn’t it?”

“Everyone. But…yeah, those two specifically. Sam was just trying to help us out. And Bucky…Bucky was finally…Bucky again. In Wakanda, he finally…finally fully remembered who he was. And now, Nat, now…he’s gone.”

Natasha rested her arm around his shoulder. “I know…so many are…”

“And I couldn’t…I couldn’t get to him in time. He said the same thing he did when I came for him…back at Zola’s lab in the 40s. But this time…this time I didn’t get to save him. I saw him. I saw the look on his face. But he still…he still trusted me. In his eyes, I still saw trust. Nat, I didn’t get to him in time.” Steve breathed, his breaths beginning to become heavier.

A sign that Steve was fighting back tears.

“…What did he say?” she asked, soft, quiet.

Steve glanced at her. “Steve.”

Natasha didn’t reply to that.

“Nat, he shouldn’t have. He shouldn’t have trusted me. I failed him. Again. I messed up. Just like every time. He shouldn’t have trusted me, Nat. No one should have.”

Natasha squeezed his shoulder. “Why? You’re Captain America. You’ve done so much. You’ve helped so many. You’ve succeeded, time and time again. Steve, you’re a hero.”

“No. I’ve failed, time and time again.”

“Sure, you’ve messed up. But Steve, you did your best. You’re still Captain America. You’re still a-”

“And a hero can’t still be a man?” Steve pulled away from her grip, “Captain America can’t be Steve Rogers?”

Ah. That made sense.

“Steve…then stop. Stop forcing yourself to be Captain America. Be Steve, for all I care. Be Steve when you can’t be Captain America. You don’t have to be strong for everyone else.”

Steve closed his eyes.

Clenched his fists.

“But I do, Nat…I do have to be strong for everyone. I have to remain optimistic. I have to remain hopeful. I have to take care of everyone else. I have to carry the burden so they don’t have to. I have to be good. Or at least…I have to be okay. For everyone else.”

“Steve, you don’t have to be the hero all the time. Let someone else be the hero for once.”

“I’m a leader. I’m America’s hero, Nat, the world’s hero. I have to be strong. I have to be okay. Even with everything that’s going on, I have to be okay.”

Natasha had once thought the same thing, having been told that emotions, scars, needed to be pushed down. Hidden from the world.

But Clint had shown her something very different.

“Maybe we don’t have to be okay.”

Steve opened his eyes.

Looked over at her.

Natasha gripped his shoulder. Shook it. “Maybe it’s okay if we’re broken. Maybe it’s okay if we’re not okay. Maybe it’s okay if we’re weak. After all, if we were all strong, what would friends and family be for?”

Steve bit his lip.

Shrugged.

“Exactly. They’re there to help us. To strengthen us. To make us laugh and smile and sometimes cry. They’re the shoulders we can lean on when everyone else walks away. They’re the people who know that when we’re out there, telling the world that we’re okay, we’re actually breaking inside. They’re the people who inspire us to reach higher, dream bigger, to smile brighter, and laugh louder. And…they’re the kind of people who would come inside your gym, help take care of your wounds, and give you a listening ear. That’s what family and friends are for, Steve. To be with us so we don’t have to be strong alone.”

Steve nodded, a few stray tears coursing down his cheeks.

“Now come on, Steve.”

Natasha leaned in close, wrapped her arms around Steve, and hugged him tight.

Steve’s arms wrapped around her as well.

They hugged for a few moments, before Natasha softly pulled away. “Now, I think there’s some dinner ready.”

“Mmm…fast food again?”

Natasha shook her head. “No. I actually found something to cook this time…we’ll bring them back, Steve. I know we will.”

Steve nodded and smiled. “I know we will.”

They both stood.

“Especially if you get it into your head to do so. You’re pretty stubborn, Nat.”

She scoffed. “Look who’s talking. Mr. Didn’t want to sit down and tell me about how he was really feeling.” she winked.

Steve grinned. They began to walk, side by side. “Then you’re Ms. Needed Steve to listen to her and called him by all three of his names.”

Natasha playfully slapped his arm. “Yeah, yeah. But disagree with my advice again, and you’ll get it, Steve.”

Steve stopped, stood at attention, and gave her a salute. “Aye aye, Captain, Romanoff, Natasha, Ma’am.”

Natasha couldn’t help but laugh. She nudged Steve’s shoulder. “Alright. That’s dish washing duty for you, Captain.”

Steve laughed. “Yes Ma’am.”

They walked towards the kitchen, side by side.

It was okay to not be okay.

Natasha glanced at Steve.

Because that was where family came in.