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"So…"
Steve had just opened his mouth when a violent jolt shook the world around him.
He found himself in the cockpit of a bomber, hands on the controls. John was beside him, raising a finger to his lips.
"Shh."
John pointed at the control panel, signaling Steve to pay attention.
Steve looked at the channel display and instantly recognized where he was. After a moment of silence, he spoke, his voice trembling. "Peggy."
On the other end of the radio was the person he loved, Agent Carter, and this was their last call.
"I chose to do this."
He remembered this moment—the time he would crash the bomber, the moment he had accepted his fate.
"Peggy."
"I'm here."
Steve gazed at the clouds outside the cockpit, his lips pressed tight. Knowing the end that awaited him, he chose to say what he had always held back.
"I love you."
There was no sound on the other end.
The plane plunged through the clouds, and a glacier appeared before his eyes.
A bitter smile appeared on Steve's lips. He had finally said those words.
Unfortunately, there was no response.
Suddenly, Agent Carter's voice came through, warm and clear. "I love you, Steve. Next Saturday at the Stork Club, eight o'clock sharp, don't be late."
Steve heard this and smiled with relief. "I still can't dance."
"I'll teach you," Carter replied, her voice gentle and full of love. "Just come."
"Remember to have the band play slow songs," Steve said, watching the ground rush closer. "I don't want to step on your feet."
After that, there was only silence.
The signal ended.
And the plane reached its end.
Endless cold and darkness swallowed everything.
Steve sat in the pilot's seat, his eyelids heavy as if covered in frost. He moved a few times, then finally opened his eyes.
He exhaled a puff of white breath. The cold was biting, and confusion filled his gaze as he stood up from the frozen seat.
"I thought you were going to sleep forever in your dream," John said, appearing beside him in a retro suit just as he had looked when they first met.
"Why am I still here?" Steve asked, bewildered. "What is that?" He pointed to the endless darkness behind John.
John glanced back. "Your memory stops here. There's nothing beyond this point."
Steve nodded, sadness flickering in his eyes.
John asked, "Are you ready to wake up, Steve?"
Steve hesitated, thinking of his promise to Carter. "Can I still see her?"
John thought for a moment. "I think you should be able to. Forgive me for not doing much research, but by now, Agent Carter should be over ninety. She's probably still alive."
Steve breathed a sigh of relief at John's answer.
"Get ready. We're about to leave," John said with a gentle smile. "Are you nervous about heading into the unknown future?"
Steve, the man who ended Hydra, flashed a bright, hopeful grin. "I'm always ready."
Maybe this time, he would make it to that dance. Maybe Carter would forgive him for being a little late. He did not know how much he had missed.
Steve walked toward the darkness, his footsteps echoing in the void.
"You haven't told me your name," Steve stopped and looked back.
Standing at the edge of the darkness, John chuckled. "John. John Wick."
Steve smiled, savoring the name. "John Wick. I'll invite you…"
"I don't dance," John interrupted, a wand gradually appearing in his left hand. "But as long as you remember me, I don't mind buying you a drink."
John waved his wand.
His body vanished.
Steve did not look back. He walked straight into the darkness.
He walked for an unknown length of time before he saw a glimmer of light. He quickened his pace. The light grew larger, growing until it filled everything.
***
In the hospital ward, a baseball announcer's voice echoed from the radio.
"Another pitch, a high fly ball foul!"
The sound roused the blond man in the hospital bed. His eyelids trembled, and he slowly opened his eyes.
He saw a white ceiling, a slowly rotating fan, and the faint smell of disinfectant. Steve looked around, sitting up in confusion.
"Rizzo scores! Reese runs to third base!"
The sound of a Dodgers game on the radio caught his attention.
The room was decorated in the style of the 1940s, from the walls to the smallest details.
The white door opened, and a female agent entered, dressed in the fashion of that era. She looked at Steve and smiled.
"Good morning, or rather, good afternoon."
***
John was in the underground garage laboratory.
The phone next to him rang, but he was focused on stirring the crucible.
"It's Miss Romanoff, sir."
John picked up the vibranium from the box nearby. "Connect."
"You really made Fury angry," Natasha's voice came through, full of amusement.
It seemed her old boss's frustration brought her some joy.
A smile appeared at the corner of John's mouth, his right hand covered in silver. "Equivalent exchange. This is the reward I deserve."
"Fury will help you settle the company's billing issues," Natasha said knowingly.
John picked up the vibranium in his right hand, the five purple gems on the back of his hand glowing.
"One thing at a time," John said, curling his lips. "That's American government property. You have to pay a little to show it's valuable."
The uneven vibranium began to melt in his hand, turning into silver liquid and seeping into his glove.
"And I also solved a problem for him. It's worth every penny," John said calmly.
"Alright, let's not talk about that," Natasha replied.
"You'd better be careful these days."
"What, is Fury coming to kill me and take his stuff back?"
"No," Natasha's voice grew serious. "Kingpin might make a move on you. Your lawyer exposed the Union Construction scandal. Hell's Kitchen is in chaos, and Kingpin won't let it go."
"I hope he gives me a reason to act," John said with a smile. "Maybe I can just take him out and solve the problem."
"Your father always emphasized order and rules," Natasha said with a sigh. "You don't want to break those rules, do you?"
The underground alliance was built on rules. Directly killing a member of the High Table would shake everyone's trust in order.
John sighed. "Well, it's my father's business."
Hearing him relent, Natasha also breathed a sigh of relief.
As she was about to hang up, John asked casually, "Where are you?"
"Me?" Natasha replied mysteriously. "Siberia."
"Be careful," John said. "Your vacation is getting a bit long."
Natasha laughed playfully. "I'm honored I haven't been fired yet."
"It's not about the money," John said, watching as the vibranium finished merging into his right hand. "Be careful."
"You too, Mr. Wick."
The call ended, and Natasha looked at her phone, lost in thought.
***
The door to the underground laboratory opened.
John knew who it was without looking up. The silver on his right hand retracted into a ring. He turned around and said with a sigh, "If you bring the documents tomorrow, I can give you a piece of gold."
Moss announced, "Welcome, Miss Hattie."
Hattie raised an eyebrow. "Some things can't wait."
"Alright," John relented. "Put the files over there."
"You're looking more and more like Tony Stark." Hattie walked over and set down the documents, complaining, "Pepper said he's been living in the lab too."
"That's because he's copying me. And," John looked puzzled, "when did you and Miss Potts become so close?"
Weren't they at odds last time?
"Women's friendship," Hattie replied.
She circled the cauldron, wrinkling her nose at the strong smell.
"Can you eat in here?"
"That's why I usually don't eat," John replied.
"Sir," Moss interrupted, "there are intruders."
John noticed the detection spell had triggered as well.
"Show the surveillance."
Moss projected the footage. Masked men with silenced weapons were approaching.
Hattie's eyes narrowed.
John almost wanted to applaud. "They really came."
Natasha had just warned him, and now it was happening. Timing was everything.
He watched as the intruders checked each room, methodically searching.
John saw Hattie heading for the door. "Where are you going?"
Hattie replied without looking back, "Calling the police."
John blinked. "Call the police? Do you need to go outside to do that?"
Hattie stepped out, lifting her skirt to reveal two guns strapped to her thighs.
She drew both with practiced ease and entered the elevator, her expression calm.
One killer, finding nothing in the room, waited in front of the elevator.
The elevator doors opened.
A gun extended from the ceiling of the car and fired.
The killer dropped instantly, and Hattie descended swiftly, landing with feline grace.
What followed was a dance of death.
John watched the surveillance feed from the lab, genuinely impressed. "This is the first time I've seen someone besides my mother fight so well in a skirt."
On the screen, Hattie sprinted, leapt, and trapped a killer's neck with her legs, spinning and throwing him to the ground.
Whenever a killer appeared, she shot them down without hesitation.
She moved through the invaders as if they were nothing, eliminating them one by one with ruthless efficiency.
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