"The last time you pulled my hair this tight, Nat, we ended up getting dragged into separate corners, remember?"

"I remember," she mumbled through tight lips that held numerous bobby bins between them, "I remember totally kicking your ass that day."

"I don't remember that in the least."

Natasha scoffed and cursed quietly when a few pins fell to the ground, "then I must have beat you harder than I thought.  But don't worry, any hair pulling today is purely in the name of beauty, not murder."

"Relieved," you laughed, watching her work in the reflection of the mirror.  The corset of your dress was being pulled obnoxiously tight by Wanda, enough to catch your breath.  "This relaxes after a bit, right?  I can't feel my legs."

Both women stopped suddenly and stared at you with their mouths agape and shocked eyes, completely aghast at your remark.  The remaining pins fell from Nat's lips, gaining your attention.  "(Y/N), you didn't just say that."

"What?"

"You just made a joke that you can't feel your legs," Wanda whispered.  "That seems..."

"Distasteful," Natasha finished.

"Come on, you guys, if I can't be lighthearted about that whole thing, then what do you want me to do?  It's how I cope."  With a quick glance up to the clock, you hurried to put the finishing touches on your makeup, with Natasha retrieving her dropped pins to complete your hair. Wanda sighed and pulled the final tie across your back and took a step away to admire her work.

"Are you still having problems, (Y/N)?" she asked as she looked at your dress.  "I thought that your visit to Asgard healed your injury."

"It did," you nodded, turning to accept your veil and clipping it into your hair that was now far too covered in hairspray and embellishments.  "But I worry that all it would take is the wrong step, or I'll turn wrong in training, or that any little mistake will undo what's been fixed.  I worry constantly that something will put me back into that wheelchair at any moment."

"That's not healthy, (Y/N).  All of that stress and worry isn't good for you.  Have you talked to anyone about it?  What about the guy that Steve and Bruce go to?"

"Nat, come on, I'm fine.  I'm just a worrier."  With a deep breath you stepped away from the mirror and spun slowly for them to give you a final inspection.  "So, let's have it.  Am I still a crème puff?"

Wanda's voice began to crack slightly as she spoke quietly with her hands clasped together gently and held over her mouth.  "Yes, you are," she sniffled, "but you're the most beautiful crème puff that I've ever seen."

~~~

You could see him, and he looked as perfect as you had imagined he would.  You hadn't seen Steve since the party the night before, and you had never been more thankful that he wouldn't get drunk and show up to his own wedding hung over. Bucky was to his right, followed by Sam, Clint and a spot reserved for Tony.  Once the processional music began, your nerves took hold and you felt your body tense; your grip on Tony's arm became almost desperate. 

"We still have time to run."

"Says the man pushing for this wedding harder than even Steve was," you whispered back, your eyes still locked on your soon-to-be-husband. "I was starting to wonder if maybe you wanted to switch places with me."

"Well I'm sorry that I want you to be happy," he huffed and stuck out his tongue, trying to get your attention with no success.  "Hey, you okay?"

"Yep, time to go."  He led you through the doors and into the expansive chapel, pausing for the guests to stand.  Steve turned to finally look back at you and you could see him suck in a deep breath and hold it at the sight.  "He needs to breathe," you mumbled with a smile for him.  The next few steps went well until you felt a slight roll in your ankle atop your high heels that offered little support.  A momentary slip in your step could have turned embarrassing had it not been for Tony's quick reflexes and strong grip.  You saw Steve take a step forward when he saw you wavering, but Bucky grabbed his arm to stop him.

"Hey, what was that?"

"A poor choice in footwear," you groaned quietly, still clutching his arm as you continued on, his face in a slight wince of pain under your grasp.  "Thanks for the quick catch."

"I'm never gonna let you fall, honey, you know that." He held his gaze forward as he held your arm and brought you to the front, almost reluctant to release you now that the moment to do so was upon him.  He leaned over and kissed your cheek through your veil and gently placed your hand into Steve's.  "You got her?"

"Always."

"Thanks, dad," you smiled, knowing that he wanted to hear that title at least once today.

"Oh, kid, come on," he shuddered with a faltering voice, "not fair.  You can't hit me with that now."  He shuffled to his spot amongst the other groomsmen, but you could still hear him fighting back his tears.

"That was sweet," Steve chuckled and led you up the few steps to the pulpit.  "Sweet, but kinda mean."

"You say that like it's new information, Rogers.  You wanna make a break for it?  I'll even look away."

"Not a chance, doll.  I've waited too long for this, so you just keep your eyes right here. I look too good in this tux for you to be looking anywhere else."

~~~

Once the ceremony was over and you were officially married, both you and Steve felt an immediate sense of relief and as if a weight had been lifted.  The road to this day had been infinitely difficult and tested you at every turn. Even with photographers pestering you for picture after picture, reporters outside of the church to get the scoop on the Avengers wedding, and Tony nagging you to get back to the tower for the reception, the two of you felt nothing but relaxed for the first time in as long as you could remember.

Steve had insisted on driving back with just the two of you, having borrowed one of Tony's cars for the day.  He stood with the passenger door open for you and helped to push your dress in, laughing with you at the ridiculous idea that it would all fit. "See, I told you," you laughed heartily, "this isn't gonna work!"

"Alright, puffy, get in the back."

With a grumble you crawled out of the car and pushed your way into the back seat with only slightly more ease.  "It's a good thing we don't have to go far.  I might suffocate in tulle by the time we get there."

"Oh, yeah, about that..."  He quickly shut the door before you could argue and ran around to the front, hopping into the driver's seat and pulling away from the church.

"What?" you asked skeptically.  "What did you do, Steve?"

"No idea what you're talking about," he mumbled quietly, doing his best to appear as if watching the road took every ounce of his concentration so that he could avoid looking back at you.  He took a long breath and exhaled heavily, and you began to worry that it was something serious.  The car turned onto the Brooklyn Bridge and the pieces started to come together. 

"Honey, you can tell me." 

The change in mood within the vehicle had noticeably changed, but he was still doing his best to keep his spirits up despite the task he was about to undertake.  "I just have a quick stop that I need to make.  You can stay in the car if you want to, I'll understand."

With a silent nod of your head, you reached onto the floor and grabbed your bouquet, carefully pulling several flowers from the arrangement and laying them gently across your lap.  "Not a chance."

The car slowly pulled into the cemetery and came to a halt towards the rear, in a shaded and remote section of headstones. Steve jumped out quickly to help you out, taking your hand and leading you as he looked at the ground for his target. "We didn't really have any money for proper markers, so they're a little harder to find..." 

"Here?"

He stopped and followed your pointed hand, nodding in agreement that you had found his mother and father.  "Hey, Ma.  Dad," he began.  "I...uh...I know that I haven't been here in a while, but I wanted you to meet (Y/N), you new daughter-in-law."  Steve looked down at you and gave your hand a tight squeeze, making sure that you were okay in being here.  When he said that he hadn't been there in a while, he meant it; it had been years. So many, in fact, that he didn't even know how many.  He used to stop here daily when his mother died, but once the war started and then when he was awoken 70 years later, this became a rarity for him.  "I think you guys would really like her," he continued, turning away to look down at the small stones buried in the ground, "she makes me happy, and I know that's all you wanted for me.  I'm sorry that you weren't here to see us today."

The two of you stood quietly for a few minutes, he with his eyes closed and you watching him.  When he finally opened them again, you knew he was ready; you knelt down and placed the flowers from your bouquet over his mother's name and quietly gave her your promise to take care of him until your last day.

~~~ 

"You're late." 

"It's our party," you said in unison with Steve's "so start without us."

Tony waved his hand dismissively and turned towards the group of guests that had gathered in the lounge.  "Everyone, please join me in welcoming my new geriatric son-in-law and his gorgeous wife, Mr. and Mrs. America.  FRIDAY, you're on." 

The room filled with music and the kitchen staff began to bring out the dinner that Tony was awaiting even more than your arrival. "Your true colors are showing, big guy," you chided as he led you to the main table, "if you were so hungry, you could've started."

"You're scary when you're hungry, so I wasn't gonna chance going ahead of you."

"Valid point."

From then on, you watched the festivities pass by at a rapid pace, feeling your body growing tired from the long day, wanting nothing more than to get into something comfortable and to take off the ridiculous shoes that were torturing your feet.  Speeches were made, the incessant clinking of glasses had died down, and it was almost the end of the night before you and Steve had more than a second alone when you were interrupted yet again.

"Hey, we need to throw that bouquet before everyone starts to clear out," Wanda giggled, anxiously taking a place on the dance floor. "I promise not to cheat."

You pointed Natasha out onto the floor next to her, despite her argument that she didn't want it anyway and it was a silly tradition that didn't mean anything about who would get married next.  Clint stood from his chair and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the center of the floor.

"Don't be a whiner, Nat.  Just humor the bride, alright?"  He turned away and stepped next to you, leaning in close to whisper, "I've got a hundred for you if you land it in her hands.  I know you've got the aim, even backwards."

"I'll do it for two."

"Worth it.  Deal."  He began to walk back to his chair but you grabbed his arm and pulled him back quickly.

"Wait, are you planning something, Barton?  Is there something I should know with you two?"

All Clint would offer was a shrug and a wink, pulling away and returning to his chair.  You turned to Steve and saw in his face that he knew something already, and you were determined to get it out of him by any means necessary.  "Alright ladies, are you ready?"  You turned away from the group, with Steve directly in front of you, watching him carefully as he subtly shifted your aim with with eyes so that you were sure to hit Nat.

The bouquet left your hands with precision, landing directly in her hands despite her shock and resistance to catch it.  The crowd around them stood and cheered, but it was all cut short in an explosion that rocked the room and threw the partygoers in every direction from the tremendous force of it.

Your body hit the wall, but it wasn't the sensation that you would have expected; it was Steve blocking your impact with his arms wrapped around you.  "I've...got...you..." he moaned, holding you tightly as you slid to the ground atop him, releasing you only as the two of you succumbed to darkness.