It's been a while since I've written anything new Avengers related, but after seeing Endgame a few times, here we are! There are spoilers ahead, you've been warned.

This is basically a fix-it story that ignores the canon's reasoning for why Natasha wasn't brought back. I am completely happy with Steve's ending in Endgame, don't get me wrong, this is just a different way I could have seen it going. And yeah there's some implied Romanogers because ever since Winter Soldier I've been a fan of the soldier and the spy, what can I say?

I don't own anything, sadly. Title from one of my favorite Imagine Dragons songs. I wouldn't be opposed to writing a second part to wrap this all up, if anyone would like to see it let me know!

The first thing that struck Steve was the utter desolation of the new planet. It was just dunes, hills, and valleys, spotted with water under a purple sky as far as he could see. Even the destruction left behind by the war couldn't compare to the absence of anything that probably covered the whole planet.

Well, the absence of everything aside from a large mountainous outcropping that reached to touch the sky and clouds above it. Clint had filled him in one what to expect on Vormir before Steve had left, but seeing it for himself was something else entirely.

His boots made prints in the sand as he began the long trek to the mountain, soul stone carefully protected in the case as he did so. As he walked, he allowed his mind to wander.

Returning the soul stone was his last stop before he returned to his own time. He had returned the space stone in the form of the tesseract back to the base in New Jersey before making the jump to Vormir. While on the other legs of his journey, he had debated which to save for last, on the off chance that either would work out.

In the end, he had decided to hold on to the soul stone for last. There was a feeling in his chest, some slight twinge of hope, that maybe, just maybe, there was a way to fix one of the egregious wrongs done that remained unchanged even though Thanks had been defeated.

He'd been tempted to stay with Peggy, or go back further and make a life with her in the forties. He'd thought about it, spoken with Bucky about it, and thought some more. But in the end, the possibility of righting something that would positively impact his current family was more important than just maybe making a family in the past.

Steve had watched Peggy for a moment, of course, from behind the blinds. She was just as he imagined she would be: everything on her shoulders but still calm, collected, and in possession of the respect of those among her. Even as she sat at her desk, pushing a hand through her hair as she looked at a file in front of her, he could see the same determination in her eyes.

And then the phone had rung. She'd picked it up, probably expecting someone else, because her demeanor slipped and her concentrated face shifted to one of pure joy. A smile stretched across her face and her shoulders visibly loosened as she listened to the person on the other end of the line. Someone she cared deeply about, Steve was sure of that.

It was the only additional push he needed to know that what he was doing was right. Peggy was alright and happy, and would stay that way as long as the universe allowed. Maybe in another lifetime…

The sand beneath his boots had transformed into rock sometime during his walk and Steve shook himself out of his reverie to look at the looming mountain in front of him. His next mission's importance was immediately reestablished.

The climb was as terrible as Clint had explained and the temperature dropped the further up he went, but no amount of forewarning could have prepared him for the floating black robes that descended in front of him. Or for the haunting german accent that came with them.

"Steven, son of Sarah," the figure of Red Skull said evenly as he materialized in front of Steve.

Steve's hand reflexively tightened around the case handle in his grasp. Even years after having faced him, Steve wanted nothing more than to put Schmidt back in his place, wherever that may be. He deserved the ironic hell this place had him locked in for all eternity. "Schmidt," was all he said, gaze not moving from the figure in front of him.

"You have returned with the stone."

Steve nodded tightly. "I have."

"But not to simply return it, I see."

The specter, Schmidt, whatever it was, was more perceptive than Steve had expected. "I've come to trade. The stone for Natasha Romanoff's soul restored."

"I'm afraid that is impossible," Schmidt said coldly and turned away from Steve to a set of what appeared to be jagged stairs carved from the mountain itself.

Steve, of course, wouldn't be deterred that easily, and followed behind. "I don't believe that. I'm here to return it to its rightful place as if it never left, and the soul used for the sacrifice should be set free."

"And if that were to happen?"

"I leave with Natasha, alive, and the stone stays here."

Schmidt stopped by an overhang in the rock, hundreds of feet above the ground. "If only it were that simple, Captain," he turned to look at him. "A soul for a soul does not guarantee the revival of life."

"What do you mean?"

"Say the stone were returned, and her soul were restored. Her injuries would heal in time, yes, but a body without a soul is cold, and in temperatures like this," he gestured ever so slightly to the flakes falling from the sky and the icy wind that was tearing at his cloak. "She wouldn't survive."

Steve paused at that. But there had to be a way, there had to. He went over what Schmidt had said and looked at him quizzically. "But she would be alive for a time?"

"Perhaps…a minute or two. But would you really cause her demise a second time, freezing to death?"

If it was the other way around and it was down to me to save your life, now you be honest with me, would you trust me to do it?

Her sacrifice had helped save all their lives, and trillions more on top of that.

If there were a shot, whatever it took, he had to take it. "What if I could get to her before that happened? Take her back to my time before she freezes?"

The specter looked at him for a moment, any trace of emotion hidden behind the dark cloak. Then his hand waved in a fluid motion towards the outcropping he was standing over. "See for yourself."

Steve's steps were slow as he made his way over to where Schmidt was, on edge in case he should try anything. When he got close enough, he looked over, and froze where he stood.

Hundreds of feet down lay Natasha, like a rag doll ringed in red and white at the bottom of the cliff. In this time, it had just happened, if he squinted hard enough he could almost make out the slight color on her face that the cold had yet to steal away.

But she was broken and unmoving. There was no mistaking that.

This was one of the last things Clint saw before he returned to their time. Hit utter devastation when he came back made even more sense now, if that were possible. A soul for a soul, losing someone they loved. And while Steve hadn't asked for specifics, he doubted that Natasha had offered herself and Clint had said yes with no opposition.

Steve turned his gaze away from her form after a few seconds and looked instead to the wall that led down to the bottom. It was a cliff made of jagged rock that went straight down to the ground. He, of course, had his repelling cable in his belt, and it would reach however far he needed to go, it would just be a matter of if he could get to the bottom in time and reprogram her quantum device before the worst happened.

And if he couldn't get there in time? She'd die again, this time a preventable death, probably watching him struggle to get to her before the lights went out. Steve closed his eyes and sighed. He couldn't do that to her, couldn't make her suffer like that again, not when he knew how it felt to be pulled under by the cold. He couldn't.

So he wouldn't fail.

It took one more look at her to have his mind set on a decision. This was their only shot, and he was coming home with her in tow to the world she didn't know she had helped save. The possibility of seeing her face and the realization that Thanos had been stopped was worth it just in itself.

Steve took a few steps back from the ledge and nodded at Schmidt. "I'll make the trade. The stone for her soul restored."

Schmidt took his time in replying, still looking over the cliff. "Natasha is fortunate, to have so many that love her enough to sacrifice. The trade would not work otherwise." He then took steps back to stand in front of Steve. "Very well. You had better climb fast, Captain."

Steve's death grip on the case lessened as he lowered it to the ground to open it. As soon as the case was open, the remaining yellow stone flew away from the fabric as if pulled by a magnet and vanished in the clouds above the two-pronged mountain. There was a flash of violet in the sky and a slight rumbling that shook the mountain to its core, but then all was silent.

Schmidt had vanished just as the stone had, leaving Steve standing alone on the outcropping.

A minute or two, that was all he had, and he'd make every second count.

Without another thought he ran a few steps back to the ledge, took a deep breath, readied his cable, and jumped. The cold air pummeling him immediately stole the air from his lungs and threatened to send him into a completely uncontrolled fall, but he managed to turn his body around to shoot the cable at the rock wall.

The hook connected and sunk in and as it did he was jerked to a halt about halfway down the structure. Steve took just a moment to ensure that nothing had been seriously injured before he looked down. Visually nothing had changed, apart from the fact that he was physically closer to Natasha. He wasn't sure if the trade had even worked, but there was no time for doubt.

He began letting slack through the cable, heading down at a pace that he normally wouldn't set, driven by the clock hanging over Natasha's head. He was counting on his own as he made his way down, but didn't dare descend any faster out of fear of damaging the cable due to friction or the winds. He'd be no good to Natasha if he fell the remaining few hundred feet and knocked himself out.

The clock running in his head hit a minute when he was fifty or so feet off the ground and disengaged the cable. The drop jostled his bones, but he had fallen from higher, and had no problem shaking it off. From there it was just a few steps to where Natasha lay, still unmoving and bloodied on the ground.

"Nat?" he said quietly, crossing the distance and kneeling down beside her. His fingers immediately went to find a pulse as he tried to ignore how cold her skin was. There wasn't anything. "Come on, Natasha." He changed positions right as her eyes, which had been open and blank, shifted ever so slightly, following him as he moved. Steve stared right back, trying to be certain that he had seen what he thought he did, as her brows scrunched in apparent confusion.

"God, Nat," it was a breath of relief, but they weren't out of the woods yet. He still had to recalibrate the device and get them out of the cold. She was still staring at him, eyes more alert than they had been before, trying to understand what was going on, but her body had yet to move.

"I'll explain everything, alright? But we won. You helped us win, you need to know that," he said first, just in case things did go wrong, he needed her to know that. Clint back home needed her to know that. "I'll go over it all, just not now. Now, we need to get home. You'll get warmed up, I'll fix something to eat, and fill you in, it'll all be fine."

He spoke in the low, comforting tone he often used when things were going bad and he needed to keep someone calm. Bandaging someone in the field, comforting a child in a war zone, or even assuring Bruce that everything was going exactly to plan. Natasha knew this, and had mentioned it to him on several occasions after a particularly nasty mission had gone sideways on them and ended in casualties. She'd know just by his tone alone that things were bad, but he couldn't do anything to disguise it, not now, not with her life at stake. The last thing he wanted was to seem frantic as he tried to save her. As he spoke, he moved so he was kneeling and pulled her as gingerly as he could up against him.

Her limbs were cold and stiff, and he tried, as futile as it probably was, to shield them from the freezing wind. Her head sagged against his shoulder, the only somewhat warm part of her body, and he wrapped an arm around her to keep her secure.

"Steve?" It was so quiet it almost got lost in the howling wind, but he caught it and didn't let it slip away.

"I know, you were probably expecting Clint, but you're stuck with me," he smiled slightly down at her as his hands worked to recalibrate her device to the correct time. A small spark of hope blossomed in his chest when the very corner of her mouth turned upwards to mirror his own.

The timer hit two minutes as he finished punching in the date and put the device back around her wrist. "We're going back, one final jump, then it's over, you with me?"

To his surprise, she managed a small nod.

Keeping one arm wrapped around her, he positioned her hands to activate the device, and at the same moment hit his own.

There was a flash and a feeling of being stretched and pulled through time, but he never released his grip. One second they were surrounded by the whistling wind and the next they were in a crumpled heap with the sun shining on their faces.

Steve vaguely heard Sam, Bucky, and Bruce's voices, happy that he had made it back before they turned more frantic upon realizing that Natasha was tucked into his grasp.

They were asking questions as they came over, and Steve knew he was answering, but he wasn't too focused on them. What he was focused on, however, was the pulse in Natasha's wrist, still humming beneath his fingers. When he looked down, her eyes were closed but her chest was still rising and falling.

She was alive.

Both Sam and Bucky took off their jackets to place over her as makeshift blankets and then Sam was on the phone to someone, probably to get some sort of medical help.

A minute after they got back, she started shivering, and Steve didn't dare move from his position holding her, not a chance. The others stood by, close and supportive, but not able to offer much other help since all their materials were somewhere in a crater a few hundred feet away.

The medical team still wasn't there three minutes later, but it wasn't like Steve was counting. Natasha was still there, still alive. She may have been fighting her way back from being frozen, both inside and out, but Steve knew she'd fought her way back from worse.

And when her eyes opened, sunlight bouncing off her green irises and red hair, Steve knew things would be alright.