A/N:

MAKOR SPOILERS. This story is set immediately after the events of the Avengers: Infinity War. There are major spoilers. You have been warned.

I am also uploading this on AO3 and Wattpad.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters, etc. These belong to Marvel.

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For a moment, no one spoke. Steve looked around at those who remained, standing in the glade. "Has anyone seen Sam?" he asked, surprised at how calm he sounded, as though Sam was just taking an awfully long time to collect the take-away or to grab his gym kit from the locker room.

"Been looking, no luck," Rhodes said. He looked at Vision's body on the ground. "I'm guessing that Wanda must be…"

"And Groot," said Rocket, kicking a stone.

"And my King," said Okoye.

"Oh, this really isn't good," said Bruce, still inside the damaged Hulkbuster suit.

"Bucky," Steve breathed, trying to push the image of Bucky turning to dust in front of him from his mind.

"Hey Steve," Natasha said, "I don't - " she swayed and stumbled.

"Woah, Nat," Steve said, grabbing hold of her before she could fall. "No. No, Natasha, are you…?" Fear and panic gripped him, certain that Natasha was about to crumble as he held her.

"I can't breathe," Natasha said, holding her chest and allowing Steve to take her weight, "I - I can't breathe…"

"Earlier she took a hit," Okoye said, using one of the beads on her bracelet to scan Natasha's body. "Most valiantly, and I am not surprised that she requires medical assistance. Once the adrenaline from the heat of battle wears off, the pain and shock sets in."

"Hey," Steve said gently, holding onto Natasha, forcing himself to breathe. "You're gunna be ok. Just, just…"

"Is it just us?" Natasha asked, every breathe like a stab in the side, ignoring Cap's comment. She looked around the group, her eyes filled with tears, "Or everyone?"

"What?"

"Are they all gone?"

The group looked around, their fear palatable, worried that at any moment they too may turn to dust.

"Yes. Half of everyone," Thor said. "It will be half of everyone."

Steve realised what Natasha was thinking. Clint. Scott. Fury. Hill. What about those off-world? Tony? Pepper? What about the princess? The President? Steve could feel the others looking at him. "We've got work to do."

"We must return to the city," Okoye said. "Try to keep order in Wakanda. In the world. People will be afraid. We must do what we can."

"You are a captain?" Thor asked.

"You have a problem with that?" Okoye asked.

"On the contrary," said Thor, allowing himself a small smile. "You quite remind me of my mother."

…

Some hours later, as evening became night, Steve found himself sitting in the mess hall alone. The Princess Shuri, the Dowager Queen and the surviving members of Wakanda's executive leadership were locked behind closed doors, with orders coming out at irregular intervals. Okoye was commanding what remained of the Wakandian armed forces to assist with clean-up and peace-keeping. Bruce had been seconded to the science division, Rhodes was working alongside Okoye in peace keeping. Goodness only knew where Thor and Rocket had gone. Most media channels were completely shut down. There was still BBC World News of course, and Al Jazeera. These were being shown on alternate screens around the mess hall, running lists of names of those who were missing. Gone. Lost. Dust. Whatever word people wanted to use. Thor had been right. It was half of the population of the planet. Just gone.

This isn't real. Steve couldn't believe it. Somehow, it felt fake. Like they'd been dumped in alternate reality. He'd spent the past hour queuing up alongside other warriors who were well enough to stand, but still in need of a little first aid. He'd seen a nurse who gave him a tube of cream for his wounds, checked him for concussion, and sent him to shower, change and eat. He'd taken a cold shower on purpose, and the cream had felt cool on the split on his forehead, and the other cuts and bruises he'd acquired.

Steve almost inhaled hearty meat and rice dish he was served, trying to remember the last proper meal he'd had. He half wished he could ask someone what was in this, because it really was very nice, but he felt the few Wakandian soldiers also in the mess hall eyed him with suspicion, so kept his eyes and head down. Surely they must blame him. He'd brought the fight here after all, and now their king and half the population of the planet was gone.

Steve placed his empty bowl on in the pile, and cutlery in the tray, and left the cafeteria. He wanted Bucky. He wanted Sam. Hell, even Tony. He wanted to pull his people to him, close ranks, keep them all tight. Close. Safe. He couldn't save them. He hadn't saved them. Had he made things worse? There was nothing he could do. Steve clenched his fists, digging his nails into his palms. He forced himself to breathe. He couldn't mourn yet. This wasn't real. Breathe.

Natasha.

With a sudden increase in rooms available, the Avengers had been allotted a floor to themselves. Natasha had been seen to by a doctor, and hadn't left her room. Two cracked ribs, cracked shoulder blade, bruised hip bone, assorted cuts and bruises. Thanos hadn't exactly been gentle when burying her in the mound of ruble, but he hadn't killed her either. He hadn't killed any of them, and he could have. Steve knocked on the open door.

"Nat?"

The lights were off, but the light from the hallway was bright enough for him to see in. Natasha lay curled on the bed, the blankets kicked off, facing away from the door. Steve flicked on the lights, closed to door and pulled a chair up to her bed.

"Turn off the lights," she mumbled.

"You ok?" Steve said, fiddling with the lighting panel until they changed from bright hospital-style fluorescent lights to a soft, golden glow.

"I've had worse."

Steve sat down. His body felt heavy. Tired. Old. "Can't be comfortable lying like that."

"It's ok. Hurts less than the other pain."

"Not sure that's healthy."

"Not sure it's right."

Natasha made a noise, and Steve wasn't sure if it was a sigh or a sob. She looked so small curled up on the bed.

"It's not right," Steve said. "This - this whole Thanos thing. It isn't right. I don't know what to do, Nat. I'm in so deep… I don't know which way is up."

"I've broken my training," Natasha said. "I broke it joining the Avengers. I let you all in. I let myself feel - "

"Nat…"

"I was trained not to. For years. That was the point of the program. Do the job, don't let it touch you. Because it hurts. It hurts so much, and you…" Natasha trailed off. "I'm scared, Steve. I'm so scared."

Steve didn't know what to say to her. If he was honest with himself, he'd come here hoping for her to comfort him. To tell him that it was going to be ok. That they'd get Bucky back. Steve had lost Bucky too many times before, he refused to believe he was gone again. Not now. Not when things were starting to look up.

"It's normal to feel that way, Natasha."

"Not for me."

Right not, Natasha needed him more than he needed her. He might not be needed to help Wakanda, or save the world, or save his friends, but he could damn well help her.

"Most communications are down," Steve said, "It's hard to get specifics. I have heard from Scott Lang though. He and Hope are all right. That was about an hour ago. He hadn't heard about his daughter, so it's fair to say he sounded kinda stressed, but at least we know he's out there. Helping."

Natasha didn't respond.

"Nothing from Fury or Hill," Steve continued. This felt good. It felt right. Debriefing. "So probably assume the worst there. Pepper has called about half a dozen times. Apparently New York is total chaos. She wanted to know if we could help, but it could be days before we can get clearance to fly. Only two reported commercial plane crashes worldwide, so all things considered, I guess that's something."

"Clint?" Natasha swallowed.

Steve sighed. "Nothing yet. Pepper said some phone providers are completely out, so if Clint's with one of them…"

"He'd find a way…"

"Give him time," Steve said, thinking of more people. Former SHIELD staff. People he'd see running in DC. The bored concierge at their last hotel. "He's probably out there saving his town, his - "

"Five of them. Two or three will be gone."

Steve bit his lip and pushed down the feeling. He couldn't think about the Barton family. Those kids. There must be a gym here somewhere. Things he could punch. This isn't real, though. Something isn't right. It's not real. "Sit up."

"What?"

"Sit up," Steve said, standing up, then sat down on the bed beside Natasha. She pushed herself up, rolled over, and leant into him. Steve wrapped his arms around her. Natasha closed her eyes.

"They're pretty amazing here," she said, her head against Steve's chest.

"I know," Steve said.

"I'm half wrapped in these bright green bandages, and they feel amazing," Natasha said, "My hip is taped up in highlighter-pink tape, and it feels warm. The tape, that it. Apparently there's painkillers in the bandages. Plus they stop swelling and bruising and help with circulation and about half a dozen other things but I gotta say I wasn't entirely listening when the doctor explained. She said something about a machine to heal bones, but everyone qualified to operate it is either missing or occupied."

"They healed Bucky," Steve said quietly.

Natasha placed her hand over his. "I keep thinking of people," she said, her voice slightly muffled with her head against his chest.

"Me too."

"I - there's someone I gotta try. I gotta call."

"Your phone should be here somewhere. Your uniform is on the table over there."

"Ok," Natasha said, but neither of them moved. Though her breath was slightly short, Steve found it comforting to feel her heart beat against him, her chest rise and fall. "I'm sorry about Bucky," she whispered.

Steve swallowed. "It's not real."

"What if it is?"

"It's not." It couldn't be. He'd drown in 'what ifs' if he allowed himself to think too much. He needed to talk to Thor. He needed to a team. Thor, Rocket - though that talking racoon almost proved his point that this wasn't real -, Rhodes, Bruce. Maybe Okoye. Maybe the princess. Shuri would want to help them. She'd want to show off. Maybe they could get Pepper to help. Maybe Scott and Hope. Surely they'd hear from Clint and somehow all his family would be just fine, and Steve would have a team, though it wouldn't be Sam or Bucky, but Nat was here, she was always here, always right where he needed her, and -

"Cap, I love you but you're squeezing me and it hurts," Natasha said.

"Oh, right," Steve said, loosening his arms, "Sorry."

"You don't have to let go. Just - I've already been squashed once today."

Natasha was perking up. That gave Steve confidence. "There's gunna be a way to fix this."

"I know."

"Want your phone?"

"I'm kinda scared it's gunna ring out."

"I can stay if you want," Steve said, wondering what was going through her mind.

Natasha nodded, "What's the current time in New York?"

"Mid afternoon."

"Ok," she untangled herself from Steve's arms and sat up properly. "Sometimes you just gotta bite the bullet and call your lawyer."