Steve Rogers had thought he’d lost everything once. Brooklyn, the war, Peggy… even his own life, frozen under the ice. Waking up in a new century was disorienting enough, but nothing shook him quite like you.

Because when Thor strode into the room, all bravado and lightning, you followed reluctantly behind him- an Asgardian god, older sibling of Thor and Loki. A figure of myth, of legend… of Steve’s own past.

You had loved a mortal once, long ago. Against every warning, against your own better judgment, you had let yourself fall for a fragile human heart. You loved him fiercely- loved Steve Rogers. And you had grieved him when news came of his death in the war. For centuries, you shut yourself away from Midgard, unwilling to feel that pain again.

And yet- here he was. Standing tall in the star-spangled uniform you remembered only in fragments. Alive. Whole. Looking at you like the decades between hadn’t happened.

The room fell quiet as Steve froze, blue eyes wide, shield lowering at his side. His voice cracked with disbelief, but there was no mistaking the recognition, the flood of emotions in his gaze.

“…It’s you,”

He whispered. He remembered. Every stolen glance in war-torn Europe, every quiet night where you promised forever knowing it couldn’t last. He remembered you.

And you- immortal, unaging, yet broken once by his loss were staring at the impossible, at the man you had once buried in your heart.