When Anthony returned to the compound, a little beaten and certainly worse for wear, he had planned on the relief of a hot shower, foraging through the refrigerator for leftovers, and a very long sleep. He could feel his body relaxing at the thought of it alone, so much so that his eyes grew heavy as he sat in the back of Sam's car, right up until the moment the car was parked and the lights came on to fully wake him again. With a groan of discontent from a body that was feeling so much older than its twenty-five years, he agreed to Sam's outstretched hand to help him out.

"Wow, Ant, you look rough," Sam chuckled. "Maybe next time give it a second thought before running off to Hydra on your own, alright?"

"No argument here, trust me."

"I will not. You're half Rogers and half Stark, so I know better."

"Valid point," Anthony sighed. He raised his arms over his head in a long stretch, yawning so loud that it echoed throughout the garage around them. "Alright, thanks for the ride back, guys. Would you let me know if you hear anything from Mom or Dad?"

"Of course," Bucky added, "just get some rest and we can talk later...or...maybe rest will have to come later." He paused and turned towards the door into the building, pointing towards a waiting Esihle, her arms folded over her chest angrily, her eyes filled with tears not from sadness, but from how mad she was.

"Right, good luck, kid," Sam waved casually, "make sure you have FRIDAY jot down your funeral instructions before you go in there, just in case."

"Helpful, thanks."

"That's what I'm here for." Sam held out a hand to let Bucky through the door first, pausing next to Anthony's girlfriend for a second, glancing back over his shoulder towards the young man. "Don't worry," he whispered, "the suit's pretty busted."

"Do you honestly think that a suit would stop me?" she answered flatly, her eyes never leaving Anthony. Sam didn't speak another word to her before making his way into the building, but she heard him mutter something to Bucky as their voices faded into the distance. None of it mattered, however; in the whole of the world, only one person had earned her undivided attention right now.

"Esihle, I'm fine-"

"I told you," she snapped, "I told you that you were letting your feelings drive your intentions and that you would be hurt. I told you, and you refused to listen because once that suit grows around you, no one can break through. I don't know who you are more like, your father or your grandfather...or your mother for that matter."

"None of those are insults to me, you realize?"

She opened her mouth to offer a fast retort, but she knew that he was right. It wasn't meant to be an insult in any way, but it was meant to catch him enough off guard to stop and think about what he had done to her. "It wasn't meant to be...of course it wasn't, I respect each of them...but Anthony," she paused, biting her lower lip to stop the quivering as it began, "put yourself in my place for just a moment. We've barely been reunited-"

"I understand," he answered gently, taking careful steps towards her, "and I really am sorry that I scared you."

"But you're not sorry that you went out and almost got yourself killed?"

"No, I'm not, and that isn't meant to diminish your feelings about it, okay? I went out there to save my dad, Esihle, and I won't apologize for that. Not even to you. It wasn't a question for me after everything that they've done for us...for me. I would go again right now if I needed to."

"That is what scares me."

Anthony grumbled under his breath and shook his head incredulously, "don't you think that I will feel exactly the same way when I hear that you're running into battle with T'Challa? You've taken an oath to die for him. You will willingly throw yourself in front of him to save his life, and you chastise me for offering the same thing for my own dad? That's a little hypocritical, don't you think?"

"Hypocritical?" she gasped. "It is my duty, Anthony."

"A duty that was chosen by you."

"Yes."

"Well, I chose to try to save my father, so please tell me where there's a difference here." He stood firm for a moment as he watched the thoughts churn in her mind, her mouth open as if to say something but no sound coming from it with an answer. He leaned against the wall a little too heavily for her liking, the fatigue of battle and stress over his parents clearly winning against his determination to stay on his feet.

"Anthony, we should get you upstairs. You look as if you should lie down." When she stepped closer to take his arm to guide him, he didn't think for a second to refuse her. "Come, let me help you to your room. I don't wish to fight with you any longer."

"I'm okay," he tried to insist, only to realize that it was a lost battle before it could begin, and he shrunk in his stature under her glare. "Or...sure, thank you. A real sleep really does sound amazing."

The young couple walked in silence the rest of the way, crossing the compound and taking the elevator up to the floor with his room, and walking nearly the full length of the building again to reach his door. The both felt like there was so much more to say to each other, and the sense that their argument wasn't over hung over them as they entered his room, yet they still remained silent. She waited at his door while he moved into his closet and changed into a t-shirt and pajama pants, watching him carefully walk to his bed with the aches of his battle becoming clearer to her with each step. Once he was fully into bed and his head rested on his pillow, only then did she feel like she could leave him.

"Sleep well, Anthony."

"Will you still be here when I wake up?"

"I will not leave without saying goodbye. Perhaps it is best that I return home for the time being."

"For how long?" he asked nervously. She had said that she would stay with him until they could figure out what was happening to his dad and Bucky, and now maybe you too, and he had become comfortable with that idea. He tried to study the look on her face, to read where her mind was going as she prepared her answer, but he couldn't get a good handle on it. Maybe it was a product of being apart for too many years, or maybe it was that he didn't know her as much as he thought he did. "Esihle, you don't have to leave. I don't want to fight either, and I'm sorry that I worried you, okay? I can't apologize for what I did, but I can say that I'm sorry that it hurt you."

"Ant-"

"Please, don't leave."

She shook her head ever so slightly, dropping her gaze to her feet so that he wouldn't see the weakness he was causing in her. Her training was solid, and her instructions clear in that emotions are to be concealed when there is a risk of being compromised. But that was ridiculous, she decided in that moment; this wasn't battle, and Anthony wasn't an enemy. He was one of the few people in her life that she could trust with this. With her heart. With a trembling breath, she pushed her fears aside and raised her head, looking at him and allowing her tears to fall freely and without shame.

"Hey, don't cry..." he began, but sitting up had become a little more difficult as his muscles adjusted to rest. A little groan was all it took for her to hurry across the room and to his side, sitting on the edge of his bed and taking his hand into hers. "I'm okay, I promise. But you're not. Tell me what you're thinking."

"I don't want to leave, Anthony," she whispered. "I'm not ready to say goodbye to you, be it by choice, or by actions beyond our control. I just..." she paused, sucking in a tight breath, "I just found you again. I'm not willing to lose you so quickly."

"I don't want to ever lose you, Esihle. I've been through that once, and I've felt like something has been missing from my life ever since. When I was at the hospital with Mom and Dad, I talked to Uncle T'Challa, and he really put my mind at ease about it."

"You talked to him? What did he say?"

"Hold on," Anthony paused, pushing himself up to sit next to her. He waited until his body adjusted to the response of his angry muscles before moving again, very gingerly sliding himself to the floor next to her and onto one knee. "I asked him for his permission to do this. I asked him to trust me to love you as only you deserve. So now I need to ask you, my one and only love of my life, if you will trust me and accept me...and of course, my stubborn Rogers and over-confident Stark sides? Will you do me the undeserved honor of letting me be your husband?"

Esihle looked down at his hands as they held both of hers and allowed herself the moment. She allowed herself to feel the warmth of them, and the rough edges from his hours of work at his grandfather's side, working on the suit that she hated so much, but was thankful for at the same time for the protection it offered him. She allowed herself the moment to consider what it would feel like if the team were to return home without him one day, and if she would survive the pain that could certainly take her with him to her own end.

She allowed herself that moment to consider what her life would be like without him, if she didn't take this chance, and if she didn't give her heart what it wanted; even if it meant that it might break one day if she lost him again.

"Anthony, it would be my honor to be at your side as your wife."

He released her hands and reached up to gently take her face in them, looking at her as if he couldn't believe his own fortune, and that this incredible, powerful, beautiful woman had chosen him to share her life. He couldn't believe that they were here now, after finding each other again almost by accident. With the flood of emotions, and with as overtaken as he was once his lips finally met hers, he couldn't push away an intrusive thought, threatening to steal a piece of his elation.

What if his father didn't live long enough to stand by his side at his wedding?