"The world had grown dim, turned off like a switch, with those left to mourn in the dark."

Once again the world was doused in black and white. The days that followed after the snap filled with grief and anguish. Those dealt with the burden of having lived didn't really live at all. Instead, they were mere shells of their former selves. The world now was just plagued with ghosts. Life not what it used to be and with every melancholic breath came with it the strangling feeling of guilt. 

The world, or what was left of it was vulnerable and defenseless. Everyone was riddled with depression and sorrow. Those left were all burdened with being mourners and dealing with the acceptance of all who were lost in the fray. 

Crime rates had gone up as well as the suicide count. With everyone either too depressed or too angry. The monotonous everyday life hard for anyone to get through nowadays. It was difficult to just wake up every morning let alone try to resume on with daily routines. 

Most people couldn't move on and who could blame them? What was the point of life if those you loved were gone? 

There was nothing to celebrate anymore, no future. Heartbreak and misery an epidemic no one could seem to shake. It's aching blight too strong for anyone to try and fight off. 

The world that was left, now after 5 years, looked almost post-apocalyptic. 

There were planes that had fallen straight out of the sky on that day, car wrecks everywhere you looked, destroyed buildings and skyscrapers. Boats sat dead in the harbors, their owners no longer around to sail them. Stadiums and concert halls were vacant, with no one capable of cheering on anything anymore. 

Everything was dark, the smog from the ash of the fallen clouding over every nook and cranny. And, few people crowded in the streets. 

The far less populated and torn down New York reminding me of the black outs. With the deserted streets and dim, quiet homes. Everyone wishing to stay indoors now rather than go out and enjoy life. As there wasn't much life left to enjoy anyway. 

Manhattan no longer a beacon of blinding light so bright that every night I could actually see stars in the navy sky. 

Everywhere you looked, it all was a wreck, pulled apart at the seams. Ripped up and demolished. 

And, as I traipsed through the blocks I stepped over garbage, fallen chunks of buildings, glass shards and ash; ash of the fallen. 

The D.O.D.C., Damage Control, did what they could in trying to clean up the mess but it seemed to be a never ending task. 

Streetlights, billboards, stop signs... They all sparked with electricity and the roads were almost unusable due to the cracked, shredded apart and crater filled black tops. 

New York looked like how cities used to look after being assaulted with airstrikes during the War. Utterly decimated, mauled apart, blown to bits. A mere husk of what it used to be. 

Giant monolith's jutted out of the ground in neat rows. The names of "The Vanished"  splayed across the stones. The pillars dedicated to all those who were lost occupying every town, city, state and country. 

And, as I walked past another row of monolith's I listened as people cried, touching their loved ones name's which were engraved within the blocks of stone. Still, the wails of those who mourned echoed for miles. And, I could never bring myself to search for his name on the line up of memorial's. I didn't need to. I knew the truth and I had been living out the reality of it for 5 years now. 

My desired destination came into my line of sight and I ducked inside, into the Community Center to pick up my dear friend. 

Walking down the hallowed halls I went past the sign "Where do we go, now that they're gone?" and waited near the doorway for the weekly meeting to be over. 

Gathered in a circle the members of the Support Group sat beneath the harsh radiance of the florescent overhead lights. Their frowns and tears much more evident under the unforgiving greenish effulgence. 

"So, I... I went on a date the other day. First time since, you know, it happened. I didn't even know what to talk about." One of the members brought up, bearing his soul as this was the place to open up and really talk about the burdens which befell upon those left after the snap. 

"What did you talk about?" The leader of the group, my dear old friend, asked. 

"Same old stuff. How things have changed, our own individual sappy stories. The people we've lost. What we've been doing to try and make it through each day. The usual," The man illustrated, painting a picture for those in the group around him. 

"Then, we both got quiet. And, then he cried... I cried. And, we both realized that there wasn't much left to say." 

"Are you seeing him again?" Another member in the circle brought up. 

"Yeah, tomorrow." He replied. 

"That's good. You did the hardest part," Steve began, allowing for the burden of being optimistic for the benefit of others to land on him. "And, that's what we all have to do," 

"Is just take those little steps to try and become whole again. Try and find a purpose now. Try to be happy... At some point you just gotta move on. You have to try to live on to the best of your ability. We have to do something with our lives, otherwise Thanos should have killed all of us." 

In unison the members all nodded and like a mantra, they recited the Support Group's slogan together. 

"We gotta move on." They all chanted, the hour up. 

I stood in the background as the members all got up to leave and dwindled back out into the hall before exiting the Community Center. 

The room empty now except for one last person, my blonde friend who, after they had all left, removed the fake, idealistic hopeful guise he put on before every meeting. His sky shaded pools dark beneath the harsh florescent's. 

"It's nice what you're doing. I'm sure everyone feels encouraged having Captain America be their motivational speaker." I spoke up, making my way over to the tall, muscular man. 

"I just want to help, even if..." Steve started up. 

"Even if it's a lie?" I interrupted. 

"What?" 

"Oh, please. "You gotta move on", that's not you, Steve. That's not me either. Some people move on, sure." 

"But, not us." Steve added, those words our own mantra apparently and I weakly smiled. Us knowing each other even more than we knew ourselves. 

"Well, come on, Steven. What do you want to do tonight? The world is still out there and like you said, we have to do something with it otherwise... None of us should be here." 

"What do you want to do, Becky?" Steve questioned, grabbing his jacket from the coat hook. 

"Oh, the usual," I responded. "Work at the Hospital. Check in on Carol, Rocket, Nebula, Rhodey and Okoye. See what's going on in their parts of the universe. And, wish with every fiber of my being that James was here beside me." 

"Seems like a lot to have on your plate." The Captain remarked and I just nodded. 

"Yeah, but someone's got to do it." 

"You're not alone, Becky." 

"Thank you, Steve."