Chapter Text
Chapter 1:
Merlin.
It was one of those rainy days England was famous for, the sky was gray, rain gently patting down against the windows and sidewalk that the typical Britain person would walk with black umbrellas. There were fliers taped to light poles and in shop windows labeled, “Have You Seen Captain America?” Steve Rogers face, half of it being his unmasked face and the other half being the masked part. Newspapers that were sold and held in bins had bold headlines of “Ten Years Since Captains Disappearance. Where Did You Go Cap?” Millions, if not the entire world, seemed to mourn the loss of him, even though he was hidden in plain sight.
Steve Rogers, wearing a faded brown leather jacket, dark washed jeans, a white t-shirt, baseball cap and carrying a black umbrella in one hand with two or three reusable fabric grocery bags in the other hand, walked up the cobblestone road of the small town named Rye. He was clearly recognizable to anyone who wanted to pay attention to him, but everytime someone asked if they knew him, he easily brushed it off with a British accent and shook his head. He had been hiding away in the small town for about six years, having moved around a lot the first few years to keep people from realizing who he was. It wasn’t that he didn’t want people to know who he was, it was just, he was so tired. He was tired of fighting the government's battles, tired of getting the hell beat out of him, tired of losing people no matter how much he tried, tired of not being able to tell the difference between dreaming and reality. After losing so many people to Thanos years ago, then the life draining experience of bringing them back, they all needed a break, but him the most. He was going on a hundred and eight in a few months and, even though he knew he could live to be in his late two hundred, his body felt like it was nearing the mark. Not to mention the accident that had happened the day he left.
He sighed quietly and shook his head to rid himself of the thoughts as he made a turn and walked up the small hill to a row of cottages that sat there, about a mile or so from the church that overlooked the entire town. He walked up to his home, going up the few little steps that were there, before setting his bags down under the little overhang in front of his door. He dug his keys out of his pants pocket, unlocked the door, then bent down to get his bags. He gently nudged the door open before walking in and kicking the door closed. He set the bags back down and closing the umbrella, putting it in the vase that held it originally. He tossed the keys into the bowl on the table by the door, along with the fake glasses, before he took his shoes off and pushed them under the table. He grabbed his bags, this time with both hands, and made his way to the kitchen. Everything in the house was neat and tidy, exactly how you’d expect a military man’s home to be, down to the retiled walls that had been off by a hair when he first moved in. He sat the bags on the counter before he started unloading them and putting the groceries away.
He sighed softly when he finished then started to make some coffee in a Moka pot, an old coffee maker that set on top of the stove much like the tea kettles, and smiled a bit at the old object. Everything in the house seemed to come from his time period, down to the old radio that was his only source of entertainment next to his many shelves of books. He knew better than to have any new technology in his home. S.H.I.E.L.D, Tony, anyone with a computer could easily track him that way. It was another reason he didn’t use a bank card or checks, instead, using cash and coins for his money. Of course, he had to use a bank, but he didn’t go by anything close to Steve or Rogers. No, he played it safer than he should have. All his ID’s and paperwork were under the name Arthur Kingsley, something none related to him even in the slightest and also very, very English. A smile came to his face at the thought of Natasha picking on him for it if she ever found out about it.
He sighed quietly, biting his lip. Out of everyone he could possibly miss, he missed her the most. They had worked beyond well together, and there for a while, they had even gotten closer than what they should have. He’d even dare say he got compromised. But after Thanos, and getting everyone back, he needed to be alone. Yes, they had both been compromised, something that neither one could have helped, but this was something that he had to straighten out himself. It wasn’t something he wanted her getting involved with.
He turned back around when the coffee finished brewing and got a cup down from the cabinet before pouring himself a cup and taking a sip. He smiled softly at the warm and oh so familiar taste before he looked around his quiet little kitchen then made his way to the stairs that lead to the second floor. He took them slowly, not particularly in a rush. Once he reached the floor he made his way down the hall, the walls bare of life besides a few pictures here and there of country scenery, down to the last door on the left that was partially open. He smiled when he saw a large lump in the middle of the bed, under the blankets, then a smaller one a few inches over.
“Hey guys,” he said and watched the larger lump move before belly crawling out from under the blankets. He laughed when he saw the foxhound dog stick his head out from under blankets, seeing the happiness in the dog's eyes of his human there. He hopped down from the bed causing the smaller lump to get up and move out from under the blankets, revealing a dark orange and black striped Bengal cat with lime green eyes. The pair took a moment to stretch before making their way over to their human who smiled happily and bent down to pet them. He had gotten the two a few years back at an animal shelter a few towns over because the loneliness had started getting to him. Apparently, his neighbors had noticed it too because they started trying to set him up with their aunts, cousins, nieces, granddaughters, and even a few great-granddaughters. One even went far enough to try and set him up with their nephew, which Steve found both interesting and funny. He would be lying if he said that he had turned them all away. He managed to go on a few dates with a handful, including the male just to see, but none of them were what he was looking for. They weren’t the petite five foot seven inches that could fit into his six foot two inches hold perfectly. Their hair wasn’t the right red that he seemed to love more than he thought he did. Their eyes weren’t that sparkling blue that he felt like he could get lost in the longer he looked into them, or as warm when they would turn to look at him. He pulled himself from his thoughts before he looked down at his pets in focus and smiled softly.
“Did you two have a good day?” he asked and smiled as he gently patted their sides before he called for them to follow him back down the stairs to the kitchen. He got out their food bowls and their food, putting each into the respected bowl it went into then sitting them on the floor. He smiled softly as he watched them for a moment before he opened up the laundry room door so they could go out the back doggy door to the backyard. He grabbed the coffee pot on his way out of the kitchen and headed back upstairs, to the first door he came to. He smiled as he went inside, revealing a large crafts room. One wall was nothing but shelves, holding all sorts of little odd end things from screws, bows, knobs, wires, little tiles, and even little tires that went on toy cars and trucks. There was another wall that held tools with a wooden box that held different sizes, sheets and poles, of wood. The last wall held deeper shelves with fabrics on one side and baskets with more crafting tools and items inside them. In the middle was a large table with a sewing machine on one side and on the other side was a wooden toy car, big enough for a toddler to get in and out of.
Yes, Steve Rogers had become a craftsman, secretly making toys for kids in the town. He was kind of like the Saint Niklaus of the town which made his happy to think about. It gave the small hope to kids that maybe a Santa Claus was actually real. He smiled as he sat his cup down on the table and looked at the almost finished car and bit his lip as he opened a drawer and got out a sheet of sandpaper. He gently started sanding the car down, smoothing out any rough spots, and humming gently to himself as he did. It didn’t take him long to finish that before he went over to one of the cabinets and opened it up to reveal almost every color of paint imaginable.
“Let’s see, Tommy said today that his favorite color was yellow,” he said as he grabbed the can of paint, getting a smaller black can and closing the door. He went back and set the cans on the table before he went to basket on the wall and got out two sized brushes, one looked more like it was for painting on a canvas than a wooden toy car. He nodded to himself as he grabbed two paint stirrers and went back to the table. He got a sip of his coffee and used a screwdriver from one of his draws to open the can of yellow paint. He stirred it thoroughly before he dipped the larger brush into the paint and started painting the car. As he painted, his thoughts seemed to drift off to times when he and Natasha had been together and he had picked up painting in his free time.
It had been a night that he couldn’t sleep and he had instead gotten up and began to paint her laying there entangled in the sheets of the bed, her back bare and her short red curls tousled over the pillow where she slept. He figured that she had probably felt that he had moved, but didn’t wake up enough to bother turning over. He smiled softly as he stared at her for a moment before he added a few darker lines to her back where some scars were.
“You know Cap, it's rude to stare for so long.” He heard her say causing him to pause mid stroke and look over at her. He smiled softly when he saw her roll over and look at him from the bed, not bothering to cover her top half up before smiling softly at him.
“Well, it's rude to interrupt a painter when he’s painting a masterpiece,” he replied causing her to arch an eyebrow before she got up. She walked over to him, his eyes remaining on her face out of respect, not to mention he had gotten fairly familiar with her skin over the past few months. She went behind him, wrapping her arms around his broad shoulders and looking at the painting as if she was criticizing it.
“Well, it would be a lovely painting if you didn’t add in the scars,” she said and leaned the side of her head against his before he chuckled and shook his head.
“I think it’s a beautiful painting even with the scars in there,” he said and turned his head a bit to look at her. The comment earned him a small smile before she kissed him softly and whispered, “Compliments only get you laid Captain.”
He smiled gently at the kiss before laughing softly at her comment. “Well that’s not a bad thing, but I’m currently sitting in a chair so I can’t technically be laid.” He replied earning a bubbly laugh from her. She leaned in and kissed him softly before she whispered, “No, not technically, but I have another idea or two.” A wide smile grew over his lips before he pulled her around and onto his lap as he leaned in and kissed her again, the paintbrush falling from his fingertips as it moved up to her neck and his free arm wrapped around her to hold her there.
He was pulled from his memory when he heard his doorbell ring from downstairs causing him to raise an eyebrow. He looked at the car and realized he had painted the entire thing already beside the wheels and inside part. He sighed quietly, assuming that it was his neighbor Mrs. Martha with his cat Merlin. He set the brush down on the lid before grabbing a rag and wiping his hands off as he made his way down the hall then the stairs. He went to the door, not noticing that Merlin and Winston, the foxhound, were sitting on the couch together.
“I’m sorry Martha, was Merlin in-” he said as he opened the door before pausing when he saw the shortcut redhead standing there, her big green eyes staring back at him.
“Hello Cap,” Natasha said looking up at the man she had once begun to love if it was even possible for someone like her to do such a thing.