𝙍𝙀𝙈𝙀𝘿𝙔- [MAJOR EDITING]

FORTY SIX

PART FOUR: INFINITY WAR
[poem via Pinterest]

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WAR CALL
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The missions were done.

Steve wasn't sure how he felt about that.

There was no more work to be done in tracing down the root of the black arms dealers to Spain. Now that he and Sadie along with Sam and Natasha had practically razed the factory to the ground, Steve had few doubts the threats would pop up again. Although, he'd thought it was all over after Jersey, and it wasn't.

But Jersey was so far away, figuratively and literally. So far from the sandy beaches of Barcelona, the glorious heat of it all and the sense of accomplishment the team felt.

As they should, of course- this was a time for celebration. But Steve still felt uneasy. What would they do now, when Sadie had made it so clear that she didn't want to stop moving? He had spent most of their time apart dreaming that once he had her again, Steve could stop running. Find a safe house, be home with her...

He couldn't blame Sadie for wanting stability before they took that plunge, though. This was one of the few cases she was far more responsible than he was. Regardless, he wished things were different.

"Only you could look so miserable on the beach," Sadie's voice snapped him out of his thoughts as she stood above him, her hands on her hips. "You won't come in the water?"

"I want to soak up the sun before it sets," Steve lied. Well, half-lied. The sun was getting quite low. "You can go swim, though."

"Nah, I wanna sit with you," she grinned, settling herself down on the sand beside him, and kissing his cheek.

Steve found himself leaning into Sadie's touch, as always, but she was already laying on her back, propped up on her elbows. She looked more relaxed than he'd seen her since Vegas, even if she had soaked one of his shirts with seawater, as opposed to buying one of the 'unflattering' swimsuits at the gift shop.

Steve tried not to cringe as he noticed the sand sticking to the material- they mostly washed their clothes by hand on the road, and something told him it would take a while to get the sand out.

This life of theirs certainly wasn't glamorous, and it certainly wasn't what Sadie deserved, or what he wanted to give her. But Steve was selfishly happy to be by her side.

"Did you know most of the beaches in Barcelona are man-made?" Sadie asked, peering at him through her sunglasses. "Even this one."

"Really?" Steve asked, running his hand through the sand. "So all of this was imported?"

"Yup," she nodded, the smile on her face contagious, as it always was when she had knowledge to share. "I learned that from National Geographic."

"I wonder where they get all the sand from," he mused, curiously, and Sadie's face fell.

"They left that part out," Sadie pouted, making him laugh. "My guess is either the desert or other beaches. But desert sand is different. So probably another beach."

"That doesn't sound like a great solution," Steve said, leaning back to mirror her lounging posture. "Beaches are there for a reason, they protect the land from the ocean. Without them, the land will wear away."

"They probably only take a portion," Sadie hummed. Steve found that hard to believe— humanity could be greedy.

"Even half is a problem," he shrugged. "You need a united front. If portions of the defence are missing, the ocean wins."