Chapter Text
Life can change in the blink of an eye.
When Steve opened his eyes, he knew something was different. He wasn’t being born all over again; no, it felt like he was being willed into being, like he had been dragged kicking and screaming back into the light from the comfort and safety of darkness. Squinting against the brightness around him, he sat up and rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand.
Where am I?
A figure came towards him and he had to shield his eyes for a moment before she came into focus and he froze right there on the floor.
It can’t be. How-- How--
Sarah smiled as she knelt before him. Gone were the telltale signs of her illness; she was bright eyed and flush with the color of health and happiness. She looked beautiful.
“Hello, Steve.”
He couldn’t figure out what was happening, but he lunged forward to wrap his mother up in a hug regardless of the circumstances that were allowing him to have this moment with her. She smelled exactly the way he remembered her; like the sterile smell of a hospital mixed with butter and warmth and goodness. Steve never wanted to let go.
He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. “How is this possible?”
She ran her hand through his hair in a familiar gesture, like how she used to when he was a child, and tears sprang to his eyes.
“Mama, am I dead?”
Sarah looked like she wanted to tell him everything. She wanted to sit there and talk to him about everything that was happening to him, explain little details so he wouldn’t be scared anymore, make him feel better. But Steve knew, somehow, that she wasn’t going to tell him anything at all.
“That’s not for me to tell you, Stevie.”
Accepting her response was much easier than Steve might have anticipated. He nodded quietly and let her take his hand to pull him onto his feet with her. He had to be dead, right? Why else would he be seeing her? The implications of it all would make him dizzy if he gave himself time to think about it, so he just… didn’t. It was easier that way.
Together, they walked forwards and things began to materialize little by little.
Steve recognized where they were almost immediately.
“Figures,” he huffed. “I’m dead and the first place my mind goes is right back home.”
The familiar streets of his neighborhood back in Brooklyn were just the way he remembered them; kids ran and played in the streets, women beat the dust out of their rugs on the front porches… He could even smell the sort of home cooking he would always associate with the Irish and Romanian and Italian immigrants living on his street. It smelled like home just as much as Sarah did and he leaned into it for comfort just to avoid slipping into shock.
Sarah smiled beside him. Now that he’d had the serum, he towered over her in a way he never had while she was alive. “Everyone’s got their own idea of Heaven, honey.”
“Bucky always described it as lots of naked women.”
“You make sure to tell Winnie that when you see her.”
Steve’s head snapped to the side. “Is she dead?”
“No,” Sarah answered easily. “Not yet, anyway.”
“So I am dead,” he said quickly.
“I didn’t say that.”
Steve pouted beside his mother as she led him down the street towards the park. Despite the fact that everything looked exactly as it should, there was an indescribable feeling Steve just couldn’t shake. He wasn’t sad, but the realization that everyone around him was also dead if he was indeed the same… shook him, just a little bit. It was Heaven, everyone was doing everything they wanted to do, but there was still a small reminder at the back of his head that all these people had left their loved ones behind.
Speaking of which--
“She was a good match for you, wasn’t she?”
Steve frowned. “What?”
Sarah gave him a look. “Peggy. She was a good match, but not a perfect match.”
“How did you even know I was thinking about her? And what do you mean? She might have been the One--”
“No, I’m afraid not. She wasn't your soulmate.”
Steve tried to swallow that down while they made their way into the park. Peggy wasn’t his soulmate. And apparently there were such things as soulmates? And apparently his mother just knew things---
“It’s probably better for you if you don’t try to figure out the details,” she said quietly. “It saves a lot of time if you just accept things the way they are. Then you can start to move forward.”
“Move forward?” Steve was exasperated. “I’m dead! How much more moving forward can there be?”
Near the center of the park, they came upon a large fountain. Steve frowned for a moment as his mother took a seat on the edge. “This isn’t Prospect Park,” he said slowly. “Where are we?”
“This is your Heaven, Steve. Why don’t you tell me?”
Standing in front of her, he took a good look around and smiled to himself. “It’s Central Park,” he mumbled. “So we walked from Brooklyn into the city…?”
Sarah sighed and stood up, eventually reaching up to take his cheeks in her hands. “Stop trying to understand how and just try to appreciate what you have right now.”
Steve wanted to argue. He was never one to just let things go. There was an afterlife! He had so many questions -- how did he die? Was it painful? And just how did Heaven work? If he wanted something, could he just think something up and it would appear in front of him? Could he eat? The list of questions seemed endless in Steve’s book.
So far the afterlife wasn’t quite what he expected; though to be fair, Steve had never really given a serious thought to what life would be like after one died. As he and his mother continued walking along the pathway, Steve was taking in all the familiar sights around him as they moved. The sun was shining bright and smells of sizzling hot dogs filled the air. It was uncanny, how much his Heaven resembled New York City. How at home he felt. And he couldn’t deny the utter joy he felt at being able to see his mother again.
“So Ma, how’ve you been? What have you been doing all this time?”
Sarah let out a joyful laugh. “Oh my darling, you haven’t changed one bit. How glad I am to be able to just talk with you in person again!”
“Well, the last time we saw each other was a long time ago and the circumstances weren’t exactly great.” A memory of his mother in her hospital bed flashed through his mind.
Sarah patted his cheek fondly.
“All that’s in the past now,” she said warmly. “And I want to hear everything you’ve been through since then. I’ve been watching you, but I want to know how you feel about it. You’re so big now.”
Steve huffed out a laugh and ducked his head. “It feels weird,” he admitted. “I think I’m used to it, but it still feels like… the old me is swimming around inside or something. I don’t know, Ma. I just wanted to help, you know? And it feels like even with the damn serum, I’m failing all over the place.”
Sarah got this look on her face like she knew yet another thing he didn’t. “Take my word for it, Steve,” she said softly. “You haven’t failed the way you think you have.”
“What does that even mean?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.”
“I don’t remember you being this cryptic when you were alive,” he deadpanned.
Sarah wasn’t phased. “Heaven changes us. What can I say?”
The silence that stretched on between them was comfortable, but Steve kept thinking about what his mother had said. He’d find out soon enough? What could that mean? He had failed! He’d let Bucky fall--
Sarah sighed. “I know you miss him.”
Steve was beginning to think that his thoughts were actually being broadcast out loud.
“I do,” he admitted. “It’s hard to remember sometimes that he’s gone.”
Sarah hummed a little bit and nodded. “Remember that all things have a reason behind them. All things, even the ones that make us miserable.”
Steve frowned, but he nodded along with her. Right. Everything had a reason behind it, but he couldn’t exactly think of a reason why Bucky had to die. In fact-- “Wait, where is he? Haven’t you seen him here?”
“I haven’t.”
Steve’s brow furrowed immediately. If this was Heaven, where was Bucky? Because it couldn’t be that he had gone to the other place. It couldn’t be. There had to be another explanation.
Soon enough, with little to no explanation from his mother, Steve began to settle in to the reality of his situation. He was dead, this was his life (whatever that meant) right now. It was better than being in Hell, but he also couldn’t quite ground himself. He spent ages walking through the park with his mother just talking about everything from his childhood to the things he’d been through since then to all the people she’d met during her time in Heaven. If he was making this up because he’d gone nuts or something, he had to be some kind of genius just based on the level of detail.
The most harrowing experience happened one night while Steve was resting. Sarah had told him that a lot of people ‘rested’ when it was supposed to be nighttime since time didn’t quite work the same way in Heaven and they didn’t need to sleep at all. But Steve felt some comfort from trying, so he’d manifested himself a little bed and laid under a wide open sky that reminded him of Poland in the winter. That’s when he felt it.
The weather never really got to him unless it was something he wanted to feel. Steve had enjoyed rain on his cheeks and wind in his hair and even the sun on his bare shoulders, but it was never like this. He sat up with a strange feeling in his stomach and began to shiver violently, enough to prompt him to wrap his arms around himself for warmth. But it didn’t help. He was so cold that his teeth began to chatter, his whole body shaking from head to toe as flashes of something he couldn’t describe flew threw his mind.
After what felt like an eternity, it was gone and Steve was left more confused than ever.
The next time he and his mother were walking through the park, he decided to bring up his experience to her and see if she could offer some insight. Sarah seemed saddened by his description, but she said she couldn’t say why. It was just a feeling, she said.
Steve was still trying to encourage a better answer when a tingling sensation went through him and Steve’s attention shifted from his mother to a red door that suddenly materialized to his left. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he had an urge to go through it immediately. “Mama, what’s that?”
Sarah simply smiled. “You have to tell me, honey. All I see is white mist. What do you see?”
“It’s a door.” It didn’t make any sense -- what was a door doing in the middle of Central Park?
“Oh,” Sarah replied as the red door now materialized in front of her and she could see it as well. “Well, isn’t this interesting?”
“Ma, can’t you tell me what’s going on? Why are you being so mysterious? What’s through that door?”
Instead of answering his questions, she took his arm. “Why don’t we find out?”
He looked at her questioningly before glancing at the door again, uncertainty filling him. The urge to open the door was strong though, and curiosity got the best of him. Slowly, he reached out and twisted the doorknob, pulling it open.
The sight that greeted him was pitch black.
At first, anyway.
As his eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, he could see a bedroom and the silhouette of a figure lying still on the bed. It was an odd sight: only one bed occupied in a room filled with many empty beds. The room was quiet, not a sound could be heard. Then after several minutes, the slightest of whimpers could be heard and the person gradually began thrashing about. Whoever this was, nightmares were beginning to invade their subconscious.
The unexplained impulse to comfort this person had Steve starting to move forward a couple of steps, but his mother’s hand on his arm stopped him as she tugged at him slightly. He halted and looked over at her questioningly. Sarah shook her head. “Not just yet.”
Fighting the urge to ignore his mother’s words, Steve stood frozen and watched with wide eyes as the figure bolted upright without warning, letting out a gasp as she did so.
It was a young woman, he could see that now.
Steve held his breath as he stared at her. Thanks to the serum running through his veins, his sharpened gaze could clearly see her petite frame outlined in the darkness, her slender shoulders hunched over at an odd angle as her erratic breathing began to settle. For the life of him, he could not explain why his heart suddenly began racing. He turned to his mother. “Who is she?”
His mother was clearly holding something back from him and he felt anger begin to seep in.
“Mama, who is she?” he repeated a little more urgently. He couldn’t understand the emotions that were beginning to trickle through him.
Sarah let out a sigh. “This is something you have to figure out on your own, I’m afraid. It’s all part of a bigger plan.”
What does that mean?
“Bigger plan? What… Am I supposed to help her or something?”
Silence.
Through the doorway, a small lamp was lit as the girl reached over to her nightstand for the glass of water that was sitting there. Now, with some light, Steve could clearly see the girl’s right arm handcuffed to the sturdy iron headboard. His heart lurched, and his anger intensified.
“Why is she chained up like that?! We need to get her out of there! She’s clearly being tortured!”
“Steve…”
“This isn’t right! You can see that, can’t you?”
Sarah stared up at her son. By now, Steve knew that even though his mother probably knew what was going on, she wasn’t going to tell him. She was being cryptic on purpose. He glanced once more at the girl. Her long red hair was in her face, so he couldn’t see what she looked like exactly, but he knew instinctively they were connected in some way. He was supposed to help her. He was certain of it down to his bones.
“Mama, tell me… how am I supposed to help her? I’m dead! It’s the end of the road for me. Please tell me something.”
She was quiet for a moment, her eyes searching his. “Maybe this isn’t your ending, Steve. Maybe you’re just in the middle. Ever thought of that?”
Natalia bolted upright, her breathing erratic and her senses on high alert. The last visages of her nightmare was fading away as she slowly brought her left hand to her face to wipe away the sweat that had formed. The nightmares were coming more frequently now, invading her subconscious and quite frankly, it was beginning to make her angry. She couldn’t even really make sense of them; half of the things that she saw were unfamiliar to her, but they left her feeling empty and sad anyway.
Despite her innate instinct to ration the water at her bedside, she gulped down half of it before rubbing a hand over her face and slowly laying back down, her right hand elevated over her head as usual. Maybe it was the impending ceremony that was keeping her up at night.
No. The ceremony had to be done. It had to be done so she could graduate and prove herself to her superiors; it didn’t matter how she felt about it because she shouldn’t feel any which way. She should accept her fate and move on because nothing she said or did was going to change it in the end.
It wasn’t a choice, it was survival.
If anything, Natalia was absolutely the best at surviving.
Turning out the light, she laid back down, stretched out on her bed, and pulled her covers back over her body. Letting out a sigh, she closed her eyes and tried her best to fall back asleep. She needed as much rest as she could for what would happen later on.
And that was when she felt it.
The little hairs on her body stood straight and she naturally stilled, slowly reaching under her pillow for the knife she kept ready at all times. She kept her breathing even, waiting for the inevitable attack.
Nothing happened.
She sat up, flipping the light on once more, and glanced around. There was nothing there. Not a shadow, not even a sound other than the loud thudding of her heart and her breath. Minutes passed and gradually her body relaxed and she tucked her knife back underneath her pillow and laid back down.
The presence was still there, and it was watching her.
It made her feel uneasy; strange but it was almost in a good way. She was used to being watched, and somehow instinctively she knew she wasn’t in any immediate danger. The more she focused on the feeling, the more she couldn’t deny that it was almost soothing. It wrapped around her, warming her more than her blanket ever could and she let out a soft sigh.
Perhaps she was just imagining things.
She fell back to sleep.
The next morning, Natalia was filled with a strange sense of calm. In the back of her mind, she didn’t want to do it, but she knew she didn’t have a choice and she wouldn’t dream of questioning the people in charge. Her masters knew what was best for her, that was how it always had been. The very idea that she was having doubts was abominable and punishable by something much worse than the simplicity of death.
She forced herself to suck down the rest of the water on her bedside table once she was uncuffed and accepted the thin hospital gown thrust at her when she was done.
“Пора,” the woman over her said. There was no room for argument. It was time.
Natalia followed her chaperone out of the bedroom and down the hall to the room she’d yet to be invited into before now. It was already haunting her; the bright, white light, the sterile smell, the cold floor. She was barefoot and wished that she felt as ready for this as the masters said she would be when this all started. She wished she could remember why--
“Natalia.”
Her attention was called right back to the imposing man now standing over her with a mask over his mouth. He looked like a monster, like some otherworldly creature in green and white. He would haunt her nightmares after today, she was sure of it.
As the mask that would put her to sleep was placed over her mouth and nose, Natalia’s gaze shifted from the doctor to the nearly empty room behind him. For the first time since before she could remember, her eyes felt heavy, like she might just be able to squeeze out a couple of tears for her lost childhood, her lost chance at having a family, her very last something that might have taken her away from the people who’d made her who she was now.
But something happened as she was slowly beginning to relax thanks to the drugs being pumped into her system. She saw a man standing behind the doctor, at the other end of the room. He was sort of beautiful in a way; soft and glowing, but the light he gave off wasn’t anything like the harsh light in the room. It was… warm. Comforting. He looked like he was worried for her, his big, blue eyes filled with concern and his brow furrowed tightly.
Natalia lifted her head to get a better look and the doctor stopped her with a hand on her forehead to push her back down.
Her breathing slowed.
“It’s alright.”
The words floated on the air. She knew the figure she was staring at had said them, but she didn’t think she’d actually seen him speak. It wasn’t alright.
“You’ll be alright.”
Natalia wanted to ask him how he knew that, but her eyes slid shut and she fell into unconsciousness for now. She’d wake up to everything being just a little worse.