Chapter 4: Luna

Steve was in a state of shock. He knew that she could possibly be alive, she had died yes, but she had died in the wrong timeline, before her time, Death had refused to reap her soul. Death spoke of how the girls were there on his bidding, to correct a corrupted timeline, he had given them protection. She would be returned to her original timeline and her death would not come to pass, at least not until her correct death day. She had however died in this timeline. For Steve at that time, it meant he had lost the love of his life, in the most painful way possibly. He didn't know he would survive the ice. He didn't know he would have to live without her and now here she was. Time travel was a convoluted, dangerous and broken branch of magic. She was dead in his time, he would never see her again and neither would Bucky, but Hermione would. It hurt his head to think about it.

However after witnessing how she had 'died' all those years ago he almost hoped she wouldn't be. His Luna, his beautiful little witch had suffered greatly, and he wasn't sure how to bridge the gap between the Luna standing in front of him and the last time he had seen her.
Steve felt his eyes drawn to her arms, he saw the twisting scars that ran all up her arms, over her shoulders and disappearing under her tank top, he knew they would curl around the underside of her boobs and across the expanse of her back down her thighs before wrapping around her slim ankles. The only silver lining was that the scars were the mirror image of a twisting vine of ivy, with leaves of rosemary and lavender. They were still scars, great big silver scars, scars she shouldn't have, torture she shouldn't have endured, but she had, and she'd done it for him, but in a way, they were haunting and beautiful. It was both a blessing and a curse of the bond they shared.

He pulled himself from the lounge and away from Bucky's firm, steadying arm, he needed to hold her, to ensure she was really there, alive, breathing and…warm. He reached out his arms and wrapped them around his girl's waist, he felt her body shaking. He needed to feel her warmth, the last time he'd held her she was cold, stone cold. That singular thought. Holding the tortured, bloodied, cold body of his love in his arms so many years ago, brought him to his knees. He felt his knees slam into the polished concrete, he felt the cartilage shatter. He didn't register the pain, she didn't notice the tear pouring down his face. All he could feel was the soft, small body of Luna in his arms, her chest was moving, she was breathing, he was holding her. He could feel her breath of his neck, he could feel her arms around his neck, the tears dripping onto his neck but above all, she was warm. She was in his arm's once again. She was alive.

"Luna, my Luna."

Steve was quite content to just hold her, fuck his team, he didn't care if they saw him on his knees, a mental wreck.

A whimper broke through the haze of his thoughts and he felt himself move automatically, letting go of Luna, he stood and they both moved towards where Mya was nestled in Bucky's arms.

He watched with pride as his little witch worked on healing the woman's whose 'death' had hurt almost as much as Luna's.

As Luna finished healing Mya, and Bucky had lifted her once again into his arms he quickly pulled Mya into his own arms as Bucky stripped his shirt to give it to his own little witch. Steve waited for Bucky to disappear into his room with Mya, as if to reassure himself they were both there before he set about picking up all of her weapons, he motioned down the same hall The Solider has disappeared down to Luna and they set off. Steve leading Luna to his room.

After placing Mya's belonging into the Bucks room, Steve wrapped his arms around Luna and lifted her to his chest. He felt her legs warp around his waist and moved towards his own room.
Stepping through his door he felt Luna magic the curtains shut and his shirt away. He laid Luna down gently on his bed before changing from his jeans into some sweats. Noticing the witch had summoned and donned an oversized jumper of his, he crawled into bed with her, pulled her into his arms and closed his eyes. Sleep for now. They would worry about the team later.

Steve held her close against his chest, his head nestled into her hair. She was here. She was alive. She was warm.