In 2021, you and Bucky had your son/daughter. This was almost right after Sam officially took the Captain America mantle and your time in Delacroix only boosted your desire to settle down, perhaps start a family with the man you've been in love with since you two were on the run to Wakanda. Everything changed once he got the grand idea to run for congress.

You fully supported this decision. Steady double-income, no more dangerous missions, family holidays, good school, homemade meals with the occasional takeout sent home when he's in really long meetings, slow dancing on those rare off days...

Then, he quit.

Everything fell apart. It went from simmering in frustration for four months to one big argument after he came home late because of a Thunderbolts meeting. Little did he know it drove you mad. Sleepless nights, your kid constantly asking where he is, more takeout meals..you couldn't do it anymore.

So, because he refused to leave the Thunderbolts, you agreed to get a divorce and naturally you got custody.

One year later.

Bucky was losing his mind.

He thought losing himself in the job would make it all easier, but it only made matters worse. All he could think about was what used to be. A loving, beautiful wife and a kid that looked at him like he hung the moon just...gone. He thought this was his calling; a way he could atone for all the bad he's done. But he was wrong.

You were right. You only ever dreamt of a normal life and he robbed you of that with no discussion whatsoever. All you wanted was to put your fighting days behind you and be with him until the end of time and he didn't fully register that until recently.

He wants to quit...maybe? He's been thinking about it. Should he? He deserves it, right? You deserve to know that he's fighting for you. Well- wants to fight for you-

You were cleaning up in the kitchen when four knocks came to your door.

"Make sure to get all your toys this time!" You called out before drying your hands and heading over to open it.

Your heart stops when you lock eyes.

"...James." You whisper.

"Daddy!"

Your 7-year-old bolts past you to hug his legs before he picks them up and spins. You don't snap out of it until he tells them to finish cleaning up the kitchen for you. His voice the softest you've ever heard and his eyes full of emotion.

"We need to talk."