"Natasha I . . . You're sure? We could wait, but there are consequences the longer we put off doing anything. We'll both get hurt." He squeezed her hands and leaned in, pressing his forehead to hers, "I don't want to give you scars Natasha, you give them too yourself often enough already. If it's me, the marks'll disappear, and we can both forget . . ."

Well, they could try. Frankly, Steve would have treasured any scars that came from Natasha, no matter why they were put there. It would be a reminder of their time together. Every moment awake was precious to him, and any spent with his friends was twice as important. A scar he could look at would be a lovely reminder, in some ways anyhow. It was . . . complicated.