![]() ![]() She said something, and it had the sound of a greeting. They belonged to a young woman, a basket full of clothes on one hip. The footsteps he had heard came to a stop as their maker entered the cottage. ![]() Sweat beaded on his brow, and he took a moment to breathe. With great effort, he managed to swing his legs out from under the rough blanket and over the edge of the small bed, slowly rising into a slump with his head in his hands. Thor would probably be just as cheerful as always, the spritely so-and-so. Using the Gauntlet had done a number on him, and he could only imagine how Tony was feeling. He had a flashback to Colonel Phillips scowling at him as he attempted a second pushup. Laboriously, Steve attempted to rise, only for his body to rebel. Forget the day after he was dragged from the Potomac, he'd felt better after a few of his scraps back in Brooklyn. He made to rise from the bed, only to stiffen as the massive ache that was his body protested. A pot of stew over a fire was the source of the divine smell, and he began to salivate. He lay in a bed in a rustic cottage, in a single large room that served as bedroom, dining room and kitchen. The footsteps of a woman or small man paced towards him, and he opened his eyes a crack to take in his surroundings. He could have recovered his feigned sleep, but his stomach chose to roar with the fury of a hundred sober troopers on overnight leave. A purple face appeared in his mind's eye and the moment was ruined.Ī heavenly scent drifted past him, and his nose twitched. He was viscerally reminded of a small French hamlet that he and the Commandos had hidden in during the War, and for a moment he could believe that they would be waiting for him if he would but open his eyes. He could feel the warmth of the morning sun on his skin, and hear the quiet bustle of a village. He woke with the paranoia of a soldier, his breath even and his senses sharp. He clung to wakefulness, but the beach might just have been the most comfortable thing he had ever encountered, and he was lost to sleep. He began to tilt forward, overbalancing until his head was pressed to the sand. Captain America," he said, dragging the words out like a beast from a tar pit. He repeated himself, gesturing with his spear. He spoke, and he had the air of a man asking questions. The man stopped just out of arm's reach, spear gripped tightly. One of the men dismounted and approached, while the rest watched him warily. Last time he felt this awful was after he was fished out of the Potomac. His head was heavy, and he was beginning to grow dizzy. "Parlez vous anglais? Sprichst du Englisch?" he asked. He was reminded of the time Nat had shown him a video about Old English. The leader spoke again, and this time Steve felt like he was closer to understanding it. His shield was heavy on his arm, but he refused to release it. "I don't suppose you fellas speak English?" he asked. Some seemed nervous, but then one pointed at him with his spear and laughed. In no time at all, they were circling around him, speaking in a language foreign to his ears. ![]() A sizeable party of men clad in leathers were trotting towards him. The whinny of a horse caught his ear, and he raised his head laboriously to look towards it. He needed one of Stark's feasts, and then he would sleep for a week. He sank to his knees once he made it clear of the tide, taking deep gasping breaths. Even starting fresh, that swim would have taxed him, and to make it after fighting Thanos and his army… He staggered drunkenly, exhaustion playing heavily on his mind as he escaped the surf. The sun was close to setting when he finally made landfall. Thank the Lord his shield was lighter than it had any right to be. Questions on how he came to be here could wait. He could see the barest hint of land far off in the distance, and he began a steady stroke. The sun was just peeking over the horizon, bathing the sky in pink and orange.įor a brief moment, there was a flash of colour across the sun, but then it was gone. His broken shield was on his arm, and he reassured himself the straps would hold. He gasped and narrowly avoided inhaling a lungful of salt, automatically treading water. Steve came awake as he was dunked in freezing waters. "We are Avengers," they spoke, and Stark's fingers snapped. Thanos lunged for them, denial and wrath on his face. "We," he said, grasping Stark's other shoulder. Steve Rogers joined them, bruised, bloodied, shield shattered and hammer heavy, but still standing tall. He laid a hand on the shoulder of the Man of Iron. Heavy boots hit the scorched earth next to him, lightning crackling in the air. Tony Stark stared him down, heart heavy with duty. "I am inevitable." His fingers snapped-and nothing happened. ![]()
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