Boston, Ma. Longwood Medical Area, a strip of Harvard buildings running from Huntington Avenue to The Riverway; a scenic valley that served as a boundary between Boston and Brookline. 

With my heels clicking against the gray concrete I took off down the school's cement steps, leaving the old white structure with it's entrance of columns, and I strolled across the narrow patch of lawn before jaywalking over Longwood Ave to the Oscar C Tugo Circle. A section named after a Private who was killed during an air raid on September 4th, 1917.

With my mind tired from my day I met up with my taxi, and was driven outside of the quadrangle of Medical buildings, my destination that of Bay Village instead. 

The smallest of neighborhoods in Boston, built entirely of ruddy red brick row-houses that stood tall in copper hued sequences. The one I called mine just one of many. 

The tight knit historic passageways all tree-filled, and it reminded me of Brooklyn in a way. Back in the day, with it's street lamps, carbon-copy brick apartments, and quaint ambiance. 

Jingling my keys I traipsed up the stairs to my top floor flat, and went on in. My briefcase jam-packed with documents needing to be completed, and I shrugged out of my lab coat. 

A pile of mail was strewn along the wood floor, having been dropped through the galvanized slot in my door mere hours ago by the mailman. And, I bent down to pick up the stack of papers. 

Stepping into my living room I switched on the TV, the News Anchor's voice a mere background echo to me as I filtered through the crisp white envelops. Bills, bills... A couple letters, adoption applications... I scanned through them all, but as if subconsciously, the woman's voice on TV became more distinct. 

The sentences she was uttering becoming more, and more clear like the sky after a downpour. But, the things she spoke of was certainly not bright and sunny. 

Almost against my will, I craned my neck towards the Television, my eyes falling onto the screen. The words "Breaking News" reflecting in my time-worn iris's. 

"New York has been attacked," The News Anchor depicted. "The other worldly assailants the likeness of Aliens, their circular spaceship wrecked havoc across the city," 

" Tony Stark, has been reported as missing after the assault with no word from him, or the others who were fighting alongside him when the invasion occurred mere hours ago." She continued, terror-stricken, her hands which held her microphone shaking. 

And, I just kept on watching, my mail limply falling from my grasp, the letters fluttering to the floor. 

I watched as the footage played out, taken from local CCTV's from the area's that were attacked. The declaration of another War happening right then, and there. A War I didn't even know was in the works until now, but it was imminent. 

The last time I bared witness to a War starting was back when President Franklin Roosevelt addressed the Nation after Pearl Harbor. And, I remembered how scared I was back then, just hearing him on the radio, his words of horror laced with static, his speech evident in my mind even to this day. 

On December 8th, 1941, a day like any other until everyone tuned in, their ears peeled as he spoke of the "date which will live in infamy", and I remembered holding Bucky's hand as we listened to the seven minute testimony. Back then I think I just looked over at Bucky, and remembered thinking about how he would be drafted, and that I might be one of the "next of kin" to receive an unlucky telegram from the Military informing me of his death. 

Back then I think I wanted to believe it wasn't true, but now? I knew better. I knew a War when I saw one, and as I continued to watch the recorded footage I knew this was all too familiar to be anything but the start of a fight. 

I was too preoccupied in my daze to notice the whir of jet engines outside, the noise probably deafening as the aircraft landed, but to seek some comfort I just fiddled with my golden wedding band, oblivious to the quaking sound.  

A tired, blonde old man dressed in his uniform now stood in my doorway, the iconic star on his chest blackened out, the "A" logo on his sleeve absent. His shield no longer strapped to his back. 

I looked over at him, his gaze just as weary as mine. 

"So, judging by what I just saw on TV I doubt you're here to take me on a fun field trip." I joked, but without a single trace of lightheartedness in my tone. 

"I'm sorry, Becky. I wouldn't of brought you into this if I didn't need you." Steve said, only restoring the notion in which I feared; once a soldier always a soldier. 

I just silently nodded, popping out a particular floorboard in my living room, the wooden panel lifting as I retrieved the modified version of my uniform that was hidden below. A uniform I thought I would never have the misfortune of wearing. 

After suiting up I followed Steve out, and into the Quinjet where Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and an injured Vision were already seated. Vision's synthetic body phasing in and out, much like a glitch from the gouge along his torso and I looked at how Wanda was holding onto him. 

Sam flew us out, and back up into the blue sky, the jet seeking cover within the puffy white clouds. 

And, while we flew away I stood splintered off from the others, and just listened in as they talked about the attack in Scotland as well. The 2 Infinity Stones on Earth the Children of Thanos' main objective. The fate of the whole universe on our shoulders a heavy toll, a burden that had fallen onto every hero who dared to stand up and fight, and once again I was selfish. 

Selfish in thinking solely about another old man in Wakanda who had seen enough War to only once again be stricken with another. Peace would be taken away from him yet again, the very thing he deserved the most, and I hated it. 

I watched as Steve walked over to me, and he rested his hand on my back, looking down at me. The glint in his blue eyes sad, and I didn't meet his gaze in fear he might see the tears in my own eyes. 

"Soldiers can never get away from War, can they?" I spoke up, a crack in my tone I hoped he couldn't hear, and Steve just remained silent. Him knowing very well that my statement was true. 

"I'm sorry, Becky." 

"You don't have to say sorry, Steve." 

"Yes, I do." The Captain returned right before we landed. 

The Avengers Facility in upstate New York like an old friend, a place of momentary refuge. A safehouse to regroup, and figure out our plan. 

Strolling right into the white building we all went straight to the boardroom where a certain War Machine was currently hosting a conference of some sort. 

The holograms of top officials from all over the world were present. The UN leaders all powerless in the face of this particular threat, and yet each one of them still acted as though they held all the cards in the deck. 

Their ego in thinking they held any authority blinding them because they all were used to sitting on the top of the heap. With this threat? No Accords, no guns, no tanks, no nukes could save them now. No mass explosion that they could just press with a button would work, and it terrified them. But, not enough to let go of their pride. 

One man specifically who's attitude distinctly was incredibly askew was at the meeting as well. 

And, while the Colonel made everyone else's holograms vanish, that one silver haired Secretary who looked to be all too displeased at the sight of us stayed. 

"Mr. Secretary." Steve greeted, irking the high ranking gentleman even more. 

"You've got some nerve I'll give you that." Thaddeus asserted, foolishly thinking that he still held any control over us. The man with all the 117 countries to back him up dimwittedly assuming he was still a concern to us. 

"You could use some nerve right now." Black Widow backtalked. 

"The world is on fire, and you think all is forgiven?" The ill-advised man in his suit continued to lecture, staring at us as if we were ants. Beneath him. 

"I'm not looking for forgiveness, and I'm way past asking for permission. Earth just lost your best defender, so we're here to fight, and if you want to stand in our way... We'll fight you too." 

The Captain declared, perhaps jaded by time, his innocence from living in a bygone era one he had always carried as a part of him, but that had been taken away by force. He was not going to sit idly by and follow orders, he was going to give the orders.

And, I just smirked at my friends words, knowing that after all he had endured that he should be the one in charge, earning a tight knitted frown from Ross before he looked at Rhodey. 

"Arrest them. And, this time don't forget about Mrs. Barnes. She's just as much of a criminal as the rest of them, and how the hell she's not behind bars yet is astonishing." 

"Well, maybe "she" is smarter than you, Mr. Ross." I piped up right before Rhodey turned off the Secretary's hologram as well. The disgruntled official disappearing. 

"That's a Court Marshall. Great to see you, Cap." 

"You too, Rhodey." 

"Wow, you guys really look like crap. Except you, Rebecca." The Colonel commented, making me smile. 

"Thanks, Rhodes." 

"Well, I think you all look great." We suddenly heard someone say, the sight of Dr. Banner appearing before us a welcoming surprise. 

"Uh, yeah. I'm back." The genius Scientist said, anxiously rubbing his hands together. Much needing to be said. 

We all retreated back into a nook away, the lounge a comfort, but at the moment we didn't have the luxury of sitting back, and chatting like old times. 

We couldn't enjoy the French press coffee maker, or the assortment of snacks in the mini fridge, or the glass topped bar cart next to the sofa. Time was not on our side, and we had to make a plan of attack. 

"So, we've got to assume they're coming back right?" War Machine brought up as we discussed the Children of Thanos who had invaded Earth. 

"And, they can clearly find us." Scarlet Witch proclaimed, worry strung across her expression as she nervously bit at her nails. 

"We need all hands on deck. Where's Clint?" Bruce asked, the Scientist not even being allowed a second to catch his breath before being thrown right back into the pit. 

"After the whole Accords situation he, and Scott took a deal. It was too tough on their families, they're on house arrest." Natasha informed. 

"Who's Scott?" The big green guy asked. 

"Ant-Man." Steve answered. 

"There's an Ant-Man, and a Spider-Man?" Bruce dubiously questioned, not up to speed, before he laid down some hard facts. "Okay look, Thanos has the biggest army in the universe, and he is not gonna stop until he... He gets Vision's stone." 

"Then we have to do everything we can to protect it. Dr. Strange went missing after the attack on New York. This stone is our last chance." I chimed in. 

"No, we have to destroy it," The wounded android intervened. "I've been giving this some thought, and if we exposed the stone to another powerful energy source with a similar signature to it's own... Then, perhaps it's molecular integrity could fail." 

"Yeah, and you with it," Wanda argued. "I'm not going to do it. We're not having this conversation, Vis." 

"Thanos threatens the lives of half the universe. We have no choice, Wanda." 

"No, we actually might," Bruce mediated. "Your mind is made up of a complex construct of overlays. J.A.R.V.I.S., Ultron, Tony, me, the stone... All of them mixed together. All of them learning from one another." 

"I agree," I interposed. "I mean, I'm no genius, but I am a Doctor. Essentially if we treat the Mind Stone as if it were a foreign object in Vision's body we could separate the two while still keeping intact the components that make up Vision, and who he is." 

"Can we really do that?" Natasha grilled. 

"I can't. Not here anyway." The Scientist expressed. 

"Then, where?" Wanda pressed, eager to find somewhere, anywhere that would allow Vision to survive. 

"I know somewhere." Steve announced. 

Wakanda.

"The Kingsguard, and the Dora Milaje have been alerted." The ever competent General told her King, the rolling green plains drawn out before them as they strolled towards their desired location. 

For now, the African country still calm. Only having just heard the news, but they were readying themselves. Danger on the rise. 

"And, the Border Tribe?" 

"Those that are left." 

"Send word to the Jabari as well. M'Baku likes a good fight." T'Challa instructed, lacing his hands behind his back as he walked, the sight of a straw roofed hut emerging into his line of sight.

 The sound of goats grazing in the grassy plains swept throughout the countryside, and the rural chartreuse landscape bended into itself as the hills overlapped like ocean waves. Flocks of birds flew high, dipping in between the peach hued clouds and for now there was serenity. 

"And, what of this one?" Okoye inquired, her brown gaze falling onto the old man from Brooklyn. 

The former asset perfectly content doing farming work. For the moment tragedy unbeknownst to him as he did his daily chores. Working up a sweat, fully enjoying every single second in which he wasn't an assassin, and in control of his mind. 

For him, true happiness being just knowing his wife was alive and okay, and that he wasn't hurting anyone anymore. 

"This one may be tired of War, but the White Wolf has rested long enough." T'Challa spoke, the weathered brunette walking up to them, his day of tending to the pasture interrupted. 

The Kingsguard's unlocked the heavy case that they had been carrying, plopping the crate fresh from Shuri's lab down onto a bale of hay. 

A pristine, highly advanced new cybernetic arm resting inside, waiting for it's host. 

With a heavy, sorrow filled gaze Bucky just frowned, staring at the silver prosthetic. Knowing full well the reason behind him being given it.

He knew another War awaited him, and he knew he'd have to fight again even though all he wanted in life was to just be a husband. All he wanted was peace, not a battlefield.

"Where's the fight?" Bucky said with a sigh, his words strangled with grief. His sentence not so much a question as it was an expectation. And, his weathered blue eyes fell onto the golden wedding band on his flesh hand. The ring dancing in his tired hues as he thought about his loved one.

"On it's way." The King replied.