.

Epilogue

It Never Really Ends…

Six months later,
England, the county of Kent,

Under a blue sky overlooking fields of green grass, the people gathered. Some came from places near by, some from far away, while others came from places that defied standard definitions of near or far. Many were dressed formally, some less so, but no one was dressed somberly. It was not a time for that. It was early afternoon, and the sun was overhead, making the day pleasantly warm, especially for April in England. A gentle breeze came off the channel, a kiss of light wind that refreshed with the underlying spray of the ocean, from which all life came. As the distant cry of gulls filled the air, touching all who heard them with a sweet melancholy, the people gathered around a small podium on the edge of the white cliffs. Lands end.

The British government had quietly closed off this area of the coastline to the public. There was no traffic from the M20; all vehicles were directed to alternate roadways, and local traffic was likewise absent. No planes tracked the blue sky overhead, while in the channel below, neither commercial ships nor pleasure crafts plied the waters, affording privacy and respect to the gathering.

The flow of people coming across the field slowed, dwindling to a trickle, which then ended entire. Quiet greetings filtered through the crowd, as people embraced and clasped hands, exchanging warm smiles to friends old and new. Some were meeting for the first time, but there were no strangers here, for this was a gathering of family. There were tears in many eyes, but they were tears of gentle remembrance, not the bitter tears of grief.

Eventually, quiet settled over the gathering. People faced towards the podium, beneath which laid a framed black and white photograph. The picture showed a handsome couple, a man wearing the uniform of an American army officer, bearing the rank of captain, and a woman in civilian clothes, stylish and neat. They were in the bloom of their youth, smiling, and clearly in love.

As the breeze stirred, Sam Wilson walked from the crowd, and stepped up to the small podium. He looked out, smiling at friends old and new.

"Hello, everyone. Welcome to this celebration of two remarkable lives. I've been asked by Steve and Jackie's family to say a few words. I'll try to make it brief, and I'll try to focus on the happy, not the sad. That's how they would want it…but they'll just have to understand if we shed a few tears along the way."

A small ripple of laughter passed through the crowd. When it ebbed, Sam continued.

"It's been six months since the war ended. It was short, as wars go, but brutal, as war always is, and the loss was great. Every life is precious, and if only one life were lost, it would be a tragedy, but the loss was much higher. I've been to too many funerals lately, said goodbye to too many friends…"

Sam paused, as emotion welled in his throat. When he mastered it, he spoke again.

"That's why today is going to be a celebration. We're saying goodbye, yes, but we're doing it with joy, remembering their lives, not their deaths. I'm not speaking of Captain America now, nor Spitfire. The world has said their goodbyes to them, and honored them, as is only right. Today is for Steve, and for Jacqueline. We are among the honored few who knew the people behind the icons. They shaped our lives by the sacrifices they made, the deeds they did, and by the simple grace and goodness with which they lived their lives. Honor. I've used that word twice now, but is there any other word that better defines who Steve and Jackie were? They lived honorable lives, an epitaph all should aspire to. Today, we honor them, and give back some portion of the love they gave to us. That's why this isn't a funeral. There's too much love for that."

Sam took a piece of paper from his jacket pocket. Folding it out on the podium, he read.

"Jacqueline Emaline Beatrix Hemming-Falsworth, Duchess of Norwich. Some might say she was born to privilege, but those who knew her would tell you she was born to service, putting the needs of her country above her own, as was her family tradition. Jackie was the daughter of the world's first superhero, and became the first woman to bare that distinction herself. For her great service helping to defeat Nazi tyranny, she was awarded the Victoria Cross, the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross, the Presidential Medal of Freedom…and other awards too numerous to mention. Named a Dame of the British Empire, she became a tireless champion of social reform, building schools and hospitals in underdeveloped countries, and establishing scholarships for deserving British children. Preceded in death by her husband, Kenneth, and her son, Richard, Jackie lived to the age of ninety, and breathed her last breath opposing fascism. She was a true daughter of England, and a champion of justice."

Sam put the paper back into his jacket, looking at the crowd. "How's that for a resume?"

Applause, warm, and generous, broke out among the gathered, continuing for a good pass of time. When it ended, Sam's smile was still there, but tears glittered around the corners of his eyes. His voice was husky with emotion as he spoke again.

"Steven Grant Rogers, son of Joseph and Sarah, was born in the borough of Brooklyn. After the death of his parents, he lived with his beloved uncle and aunt, Mike and Penny Rogers, in the green farm lands of Oregon. After graduating from the University of Notre Dame, Magna Cum Laude—a year early, I might add," Sam paused, laughing softly. "Proving that he always did everything faster and better than the rest of us…" More laughter came from the crowd, hearty, and knowing. "Steve joined the army. It was a dark time for the world, when forces threatened to topple civilization, and when the need for men and women of goodwill was great. When his nation called, Steve Rogers answered. He was the most decorated soldier in the allied forces of World War II, and it is no exaggeration to say that he was instrumental in saving the world from destruction, a theme he would repeat throughout his life, even to his last moment. The impossible wasn't impossible for Steve…it's where he got started. I could stand here all day and list the deeds, the accomplishments, but I know he would not want me to do that. Of my friend Steve, I will say this…he was the best of us."

Those last words caught in Sam's throat, and only then did he breakdown, briefly, putting his hand to his face, catching his tears. As Sam rejoined the others, standing with his wife and newborn child, Janet Van Dyne walked to the front of the crowd. Her eyes were dry, her emotion channeled into her voice. She began to sing, the words lifting clear and bright, the melody plaintive, yet soothing.

"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound…"

One by one, others joined in, singing the words of pain and redemption. As the song finished, a flight of fighter jets flew overhead, with one jet veering off from the others, in the missing man formation. After the jets passed, the thunder of propellers came, and everyone looked up as a flight of vintage Spitfire fighter planes passed over them, dipping their wings in tribute. Emily Falsworth and Sharon Carter walked to the edge of the cliff, each holding an urn in their hands. They stood next to a shape that sat on the cliff's edge, draped with a blue cloth. The hidden shape was jagged, and irregular, like a shard of rock. Emily and Sharon turned to the others, and Emily spoke.

"Steve and Jackie shared the same birthday, a thing that pleased them. That they died on the same day seems…providential. These white cliffs were special to them. Please gather around, as we commit their ashes to the sea."

The people gathered closer, forming a ring around Emily and Sharon. Together, they opened the urns, and scattered the ashes over the ocean. Grey clouds plumed, and mingled together as the wind took them, spreading out thinner and thinner as they fell to the sea…until they disappeared. Sam Wilson and Joey Chapman joined the women, putting their arms around them. Sam spoke.

"There's one last task to perform. I know earlier I said we we're saying goodbye to Steve and Jackie today, leaving aside their other legacies, but we're amending that now."

Namor Fen-McKenzie walked forward, coming to the item next to Sharon and Emily. He pulled the cloth away. Sitting before the people, encased within a large, clear crystal, was the shield of Captain America. Sam Wilson spoke again.

"There was a lot of talk about what to do with this. Scientists have studied it over the years, trying to recreate the unique combination of Vibranium and steel, but it's eluded every expert who's worked on the problem. And maybe that's best. Maybe it wasn't meant to be duplicated, anymore than the man who bore it all those years. Some people said we should keep it as an historical relic, and some have suggested it be given to another man or woman, who might take on the mantle." Sam chuckled. "There was one Captain America. His name was Steve Rogers. So, what to do with the shield? The government had their ideas…we had ours."

Sam stepped aside, and Namor spoke.

"This shield was the gift of fate, as was the Captain. The man appeared when his people needed him, and the shield came in righteousness, to aid his quest for justice. As the sword came to Arthur, so did the shield come to Steven. The smithies of Atlantis have encased the shield within trell'oth crystal, as hard and impenetrable as the rock in which Merlin set the sword. Great enchantment did my people lay upon this crystal."

Namor placed his hand on the crystal, and closed his eyes. "I see a time in the future, when the need upon the land again is great. A hero will rise, and journey forth. Let the crystal and the hero find their way to one another. We who stand here today will be long gone, and our age will be dust, but not all memory is lost. The shield and the hero will come together when the need is great….and his spirit will echo again, for nothing good truly dies."

Namor opened his eyes, and nodded to another man in the crowd. The man walked forward, his massive size standing above nearly all others gathered there. Thor Odinson, prince of Asgard, pulled back his cloak, and laid his hand upon the great hammer Mjolnir, which hung at his side. He motioned to the others.

"Stand back, my friends, as I add Asgardian enchantment to that of Atlantis."

The people drew back. Thor laid his hammer upon the crystal, and whispered words none knew. A slender bolt of lightning raked down from the cloudless sky, sizzling against the crystal. The people murmured softly at the amazing sight. The small haze of smoke raised by the lightening cleared from the crystal, and everyone looked, seeing words carved upon its clear surface. To each person, the words seemed written in their own native language. Thor spoke, reading aloud.

"Whosoever holds this shield, if they be worthy, shall possess the power of Captain America."

Thor stood aside. Namor bent, and lifted the crystal to his shoulder. "I go now, to my royal flagship. I will drop the crystal in the deeps of the ocean, where none will see. Keep faith, my friends. The magic is strong, and will last for an age of the earth. The shield will rise again."

Leaping from the cliff, Namor sailed down to the water below, and disappeared beneath the waves. Sam Wilson spoke.

"That concludes this ceremony."

Tony Stark lifted his hand, holding his wife close. "Before you leave, we're breaking ground on the new Avengers compound next week. Pepper and I are hosting a get-together after, at our Manhattan apartment, and you're all welcome. Today, we can be sad, but let's get it out of our system. We need to be happy again, so come to our place next week, and let's drink, and laugh and dance like our hair's on fire, okay?"

There were smiles, and laughter, and people agreeing to all Tony had said. People broke into small clusters, mingling and talking with energetic smiles, for everyone did need to be happy. Janet saw her husband standing with Henry McCoy and other members of the X-Men, and went to join him, but she saw a familiar face in the crowd, and went to speak with him.

"Hello, Ben. It's good to see you."

Ben Urich nodded, and leaned in, kissing her cheek. "Thank you for inviting me."

"Cap would have wanted you here. So, will we be seeing you next week at Tony's place?"

Urich smiled, and shook his head. "I don't think so. I think need to stop rubbing shoulders with superheroes and get to work. That book isn't going to write itself."

Jan nodded. "It's important that his story be told. Not just Cap…Steve's story. The world needs to know, Ben. If there's anything I can do for you, just call. You have my number."

"I do Janet, thank you."

. . .

A group of people had gathered around Thor, one of whom exceeded even his great size. Ben Grimm pulled a cigar from his jacket pocket and went to grab a match, then stopped.

"Hey, is it kosher if I light up?"

"It better be," Logan, the man known as Wolverine replied, taking a draw on his own cigar. He blew an enormous cloud of smoke, and handed his lighter to Grimm. "So…maybe one of us needs to step up, and start hosting the game. We're getting together to party next week, I figure it's time to start the game back up, too."

"Yeah," Fury said. "I was thinking the same. My retirement isn't official for six months. Why don't we meet on the Helicarrier?"

Logan laughed. "Yeah, right, play poker with the world's top spy, in his own crib. We'll meet at our place, in Westchester."

"Jesus, that's out in the boonies," Jennifer Walters said. "Why don't we meet at Tony's place, that's easy for everyone. I mean we'll be there next week, we can start up a game them."

"I would offer my place, Lady Hulk," Thor said, smiling. "But it's in another dimensional plane."

"Alright, Stark's place," Grimm said. "Why don't we make it a floating game, you know, rotate. Starks place first, then the Baxter Building, and then Shorty's place the month after," he said, nodding at Logan.

"Sounds good to me," Logan said, taking another draw on his cigar. He looked to the side, where a slender young man was milling about, taking photographs. "What about you, Spidey? Wanna sit in with the grownups?"

The young man looked at him, a nervous expression on his face. "Are…are you talking to me? 'Cause I'm just here to take photos—the Avengers asked me, and—"

Logan laughed. "Forget it, web-head, the nose knows," he said, tapping the bridge of his nose.

The young man walked closer, dropping his voice to a whisper. "Look…you won't tell anyone who I am, will you?"

"Isn't he adorable?" Jennifer Walters said, smiling.

"I'm serious," the boy said. "I like, have a secret identity. I don't want people to know who I am."

"I still don't know who you are," Logan said, laughing. "Look, do you want to play some poker, or not? You can wear your mask if it makes you feel better."

Peter Parker smiled. "Okay, but…I've never actually played before."

"Perfect," Grimm said, putting his massive, rocky hand around the young man's shoulder. "We'll teach him, won't we guys?"

As they laughed and made plans for the game, Nick Fury looked across the field, his eyes narrowing at a sight that puzzled him. He stared for several seconds, and then something dawned in his expression, lasting only an instant before he resumed his casual exterior. He turned to the others.

"I'll see you people next week. I have to talk with someone."

. . .

Sam Wilson and his wife were talking with Sharon, when a man stepped up to them.

"I don't mean to interrupt, but I'm about to take off, and I just wanted to tell you, those were beautiful words, Sam."

The man extended his hand, and Sam took it. "Thank you, Scott." Sam turned to his wife. "Akiela, this is Scott Lang."

Scott nodded at the woman. "It's nice to meet you, Akiela." He looked at the baby in her arms. "He's beautiful. Is he your first?"

"Yes," Akiela said, smiling. "His name is Steven."

"It's a good name," Scott said. "These are the wonderful years," he said, his voice suddenly becoming distant. "Don't take a minute for granted. These are the wonderful years. Well, if you'll excuse me, I better be going."

Scott turned suddenly to go. Sam called out to him.

"Scott…if, if you need anything, if there's anything we can do…"

Scott looked back to Sam, a strained smile on his face. "Thank you, Sam. I…I better be going."

As they watched Scott walk away, Sam turned to his wife and Sharon.

"Jesus. What do you say to a man who lost his daughter?"

"Oh, I didn't know," Akiela said, her voice somber. "How old was she?"

"Twenty," Sharon said. "She was just a kid, starting her way in the Avengers. Too young."

Akiela held her son tight, and young Steven Wilson began to cry. "I…I should get him to the car. I need to put him down for a nap, he's tired. We should be getting back to the hotel, Sam," she said. She started to leave, and then turned to Sharon. "Please come see us when you get back to New York. Please, Sharon."

"I will," Sharon said.

Akiela hurried off, and Sharon turned to Sam.

"She's worried about him. I don't think she wants him to take up the family trade."

"Tell me about it. We had a god-awful fight just before coming here—I mean it was ugly. I told her I wanted him to be anything, a doctor, a lawyer, a teacher, anything but a superhero…but between me, her brother…Steve…she thinks he'll be pulled into this life, no mater what we do. I don't know, maybe she's right."

Sharon put her hand on Sam's, clasping it tight. "You're a good man, Sam. You and Akiela are wonderful parents. If anyone can raise a child right, it's you."

"I hope you're right. Well, I'd better be going. Come see us, okay?"

"I will."

Sam reached to embrace her, but Sharon pulled her phone from her pocket, blocking him. "I'm sorry Sam, I just remembered I promised my sister I'd call."

She leaned in, and kissed Sam on the cheek. A bit perplexed, Sam said goodbye, and walked away. Sharon watched him go, a look of sadness on her face as she slipped the phone back in her pocket. She saw Emily Falsworth and Joey Chapman come to her, and braced for more sympathetic chitchat. Chapman spoke first.

"How are you, Sharon?"

She kept the fixed smile on her face, with an effort.

"I'm doing okay."

"It looks like people are starting to leave," he said, glancing around. "We're about to go ourselves. Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay over? It's no trouble, we'd be happy to have you."

"Yes," Emily added, "please come. I hate thinking of you staying alone, in that hotel room. We'd love to have you, and goodness knows, there's plenty of room in the manor. Steve loved it there. I'd very much like to show you around."

She smiled at them. "I'm sure that's what every newlywed couple want's—a guest dropping in on them. I appreciate the offer, but I'm fine, really."

Emily returned her smile, feeling the undercurrent of sadness. She went to speak, but her husband spoke first.

"I heard through the grapevine that they've pulled out the big chair for you. Director of SHIELD. That's amazing, Sharon. And well deserved."

"Thank you, but I've turned it down. It just wasn't the right fit."

"Oh…well. I…I'm sure it's for the best," he said, stumbling for the right words. "Are you staying on with your current assignment then?"

"Actually, I'm stepping down."

Joey looked at her, perplexed. "A sabbatical, you mean?"

"No. I've filed my papers. I'm leaving SHIELD."

The young couple looked at Sharon, concern in their eyes. Joey spoke. "Are you sure you're doing the right thing? Maybe you should take some time. This…this is a big step, and God knows you've been through the ringer. We all have. You don't want to make a rash decision."

Sharon smiled at him. "It's something I've been thinking of for awhile now, before everything happened. It's time. I want a chance to find out who I am, corny as that sounds."

"It doesn't sound corny at all," Joey said. "Good luck, Sharon." He extended his hand, and she took it. Emily looked at her husband.

"Darling, can I have a word with Sharon? I won't be a moment."

Joey told his wife he'd be waiting in the car, which, like everyone else's vehicle, was parked half a mile away at the nearby parking lot, which was normally full of tourists and visitor's cars. With a last goodbye to Sharon, Joey walked off. Emily turned to Sharon, deep emotions playing across her face. After a moment of silence, she spoke.

"I'd like us to be friends. I know it might be difficult for you, but I'd like us to try."

Sharon looked at her, genuinely surprised. "I'd like that, too. I…don't have many friends. That's not the kind of life I've led."

"Well, if you're leaving SHIELD, there's a chance to change that."

Sharon nodded. "I'm going to try."

"That's good. I think that perhaps Jackie was like a shadow, coming between you and Steve. Perhaps you feel that I resent you, in some way. I don't, I promise you."

Sharon took Emily's hand. "I don't think that, not at all. And any shadow that came between Steve and I…well, it wasn't anyone's fault. Certainly not Jackie's."

"I'm glad you feel that way. I hope you know, truly know, how much Steve loved you. Anyone that he loved is someone I want to love. You will come see us soon, won't you?"

"I will," Sharon said. Emily reached out to embrace her, but Sharon pulled out her cell phone.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I had it set on vibrate," she said. "I'm expecting a call from my sister, I have to take this. I'll talk to you soon."

Sharon reached out, planting a small kiss on the young woman's cheek, putting the phone to her ear. Emily waved and headed off. Sharon watched her go, and when she was some distance away, she slipped the phone back into her pocket.

Next up was Clint. The never-ending parade of well meaning condolences. She put the smile back on, reminding herself these were friends, and ones dealing with their own grief and sense of loss. Bobbi came up beside Clint, and to Sharon's amazement and immense pleasure, she slipped her hand into his. Sharon's smile grew, and this time it was genuine.

"Sharon," Clint said, nodding his head respectfully. "How you holding up?"

"I'm doing okay," she said quickly, getting it out of the way. "So, you two are seeing a lot of each other these days."

Bobbie laughed. "When he's not being totally obnoxious, he's kind of sweet."

"Will wonders never cease," Sharon said, shaking her head.

Clint planted a peck on Bobbi's cheek, while flashing a roguish grin at Sharon. "It's like I told you, Carter, I grow on you."

"I hear your leaving the Avengers?" Sharon asked.

"Just taking some time off, but hey, who knows? I've been working with a kid from New York. She's good, real good. If Kate comes along like I think she will, maybe it's time for Hawkeye to pass the torch. Maybe. But I want to make sure Hydra is dead and buried before I do. I owe that to Steve. Any word yet on Viper? And that nut-job scientist?"

"Lerner," Sharon offered. "SHIELD found dozens of dead clones, but they think some got away. There are rumors, nothing solid. Same with Viper. But you should ask Bobbi. By the way," she said, turning to her friend, "congratulations on your promotion. Deputy Director of Field Agents, quite a plum.

"Thanks, but hey, they're giving you the big chair. I'm thrilled for you."

"Yes, well…I'm not sure I'm going to take it," she said, not mentioning her resignation. She didn't want to open that box again. Bobbie pressed her about the Directorship, but Sharon didn't bite, and the matter was dropped. There was more small talk, harmless, and forgetful. Bobbi asked her to call her when she was ready to talk, or just wanted to get out. She said she would. As Clint went to hug her, Sharon pulled her cell phone from her pocket, and went through the pretense of her sister calling once again. She was a spy; it was easy to sell the lie, it was harmless enough.

After Clint and Bobbi left, Sharon looked around, seeing that the field was nearly empty of people now. She breathed a sigh of relief, but it was short lived; a voice spoke from behind her, catching her by surprise.

"So, you turned them down?"

Startled, Sharon spun around. A small smile came to her face.

"Colonel Fury. I didn't think anybody could sneak up on me like that. You've still got your skills, I see."

"I'm a broken down old man who's past his prime," he said, smiling wryly. "If I managed to sneak up on you, it's only because your mind was elsewhere. So, you want to tell me about it?"

"There's not much to tell. They offered me the job, I said no. I'm not right for it."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But that's not what I was asking about," Fury said, staring at her hard with his one good eye. "Do you want to tell me why you're using one of the new VX series image inducers?"

Sharon looked at him, her expression puzzled. He kept his hard, unblinking stare, and Sharon dropped her head.

"Can't get anything by you, can I?"

"Not much. The inducer is good, almost perfect. But they still haven't eliminated that slight blue glow."

"Did anyone else notice?"

Fury shrugged his shoulders. "I doubt it, but then they're not paranoid spies. So, you want to tell me about it?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"You always have a choice, Sharon." Fury sighed, and ran a hand across the back of his neck, massaging the muscles. He looked at Sharon. "I've got an idea. How about you pretend you're not a spy, and I'm not your boss. Let's say we're just old friends, and that I'm someone who cares about you very much. With that in mind…do you want to talk about it?"

"Come on," Sharon said. "Let's walk a bit."

Sharon led the way, and together, they walked down the coastline. The field was all but empty as they left, and soon, they were out of sight of any one who might be watching. After a few minutes they stopped, and looked out at the ocean. Fury said nothing, letting Sharon come to the moment in her own time. After a pass of time, she reached into her pocket, at took out her phone, which was actually a SHIELD issue device disguised to look like a phone. She activated the screen, and pressed a series of panels. A shimmering light flashed over her, canceling the holographic camouflage. Fury looked at the bump in her belly.

"How far along are you?"

"Six months. It was right before everything went down."

"Was it something you wanted?"

Sharon smiled. "If you mean did I plan it…I don't know. I went off the pill when I found out he was ill. So, I guess…yes. I wanted it to happen. I just thought things would be different. Who knew how the world would change? Who knew…"

A tear spilled down her eye. She wiped it away. "I just never really believed he would die."

"None of us did. Not really. So, what are you going to do?"

Sharon pressed the button on the image inducer, and the camouflage flashed over her again, showing the slim figure of earlier. She put the device back in her pocket.

"I'm going to have my baby. His baby. I have to go away, Nick. I can't let people know it's his. I can't let my child grow up with the entire world scrutinizing him, with all the expectations of being Captain America's son."

"Son?"

Sharon nodded. "I found out last week. I planed to let it be a surprise, but I couldn't hold out."

"Is there anything I can do? If you need money…"

"No, but thanks. I've put a bit aside, and I'm looking at a consulting job with a Silicon Valley tech company. They need someone to manage their security. I can do it from home, maybe twenty hours a week. The pay is four times what I made with SHIELD."

Fury laughed. "That's good. Where are you going to stay?"

Sharon smiled. "I just got the deed to a farm in Oregon. Someone I loved left it to me. I figure it's a pretty good spot to raise a boy. Lot's of fresh air, plenty of space for him to ramble around in. If I do my job right, if I'm lucky, he'll grow up to be strong, and intelligent, and kind, like his father was."

Fury nodded. "If we're all lucky, he'll grow up to be like his father. Will you tell him?"

"Yes. When he's older, when I think he's ready to know. But not until then. I won't let him be crushed by that weight."

"I knew his father, Sharon. I think he'll be able to handle that weight. When the time is right."

Sharon sighed, and took a last look out over the English Channel. "It really is incredibly beautiful," she said.

"It is," Fury said.

A minute stretched into two. She turned back to Fury. "I should be going. The battery life on the inducer is limited. Don't want to give my secret away. Goodbye, Nick."

Sharon kissed Fury's cheek, and walked away. As she crested the hill, Fury called out to her.

"13…"

Sharon turned around.

"Yes sir?"

"There are people who care about you. I'm one of them. You keep in touch, and you call me if you need anything. Anything at all, anytime, day or night."

Sharon smiled. "I love you to, Colonel."

Waving goodbye, she walked over the hill, leaving Fury, and the only world she had know since the day he had recruited her out of college eighteen years ago, behind. For the first time in years, she had no mission, no task, and no demands, except for one. She ran her hand down her belly, the image ripping slightly as her hand passed through the holographic disguise. She was breaking her cover, but she didn't care; she could afford to take a small chance. She headed off to the parking lot, ready to face her new life. Despite the heaviness that still hung in her still broken heart, Sharon Carter was happy. She thought of the man she had loved, and had lost, and she thought of the child growing in her. She smiled, and whispered something she had heard once, that now seemed truer than true.

"It never really ends…"

- This Ends the Story of the Death of Captain America...but it never really ends. -