Chapter Text
Sharon blankly stared at her burner, reading the call log over and over again. She had to tell Steve. So, she waited until dinner, when everyone walked into a single motel room to cram into the little space. She stopped Steve in the hallway.
Wanda wanted to see Vision. Said it’d only be for a week, that she’d keep in touch in case there was a problem and stay low. Steve had been reluctant, but ultimately Nat and Sharon decided she should go. Sharon had given Wanda her last savings. Or at least, the last of her savings she had access to.
“I need to tell you something,” she said. He closed the door behind him and they walked to the railing that overlooked the parking lot.
“You’ve been so quiet today. What’s going on?” he reached out for her hand.
“Fury called.”
His smile faded. A bit too suddenly for her liking.
“He has a job for me, Steve.”
He slowly let go of her hand, staring at the distant woods with a neutral countenance.
“I thought we’d stick together,” he said at last.
“You could come with me,” she suggested. “Your hair’s longer, and with the beard no one will recognise you.”
Steve shook his head. “You know I can’t. Sam, Wanda, Nat. They’re my responsibility.”
She licked her lower lip and placed her hands on her hips, hating the direction this conversation was going. Fearing the longer it would stretch, the worse would be the consequences.
“Then maybe we can take a deal,” she said. “Clint and Scott are with their families, maybe…” she sighed. She’d be too naïve to think they would let Steve off the hook so easily.
“I can’t,” was all he said with his back turned to her.
“The job’s gonna pay well. It’ll take some weeks at most. We could use some money right now,” she said. She'd never complain to Steve, he was doing his best, but if she had to sleep on the floor of a murky motel room with four people and wait for her turn to sleep on the couch or the bed one more time, she'd lose it. Nick on the other hand was offering an apartment.
Steve didn’t say a word.
He turned around eventually and Sharon couldn't read his face.
“I don’t want you to go,” he said.
Now Sharon turned her back to Steve.
“We’re running out of money. I have to do this,” Sharon said.
“Something will come up,” he said.
“Something has come up,” she insisted, turning around.
“Where,” Steve said, staring at the woods again.
“Madripoor.”
“Is there anything I can do to stop you?” he asked.
Sharon bit her lower lip in thought, then shook her head. She needed this. They needed this. Steve brushed past her hastily and closed their room's door behind her.
Sharon felt a wave of anger rise at his cold shoulder. In the heat of the moment, she had made up her mind. Waited till everyone was asleep, packed the few belongings she had and left for the coordinates Nick had sent her. If Steve noticed her shuffle around the room, given the light sleeper he was, he didn't show it.
It would only be a few weeks.
From the plane ride Fury had arranged for her till the moment of landing, she’d kept her burner close by, under the pretense that Steve would let go of his anger and finally give her a call. He never did. Until the next day, while she settled in her new apartment in Low-Town, she received a text from him. It pissed her off that he wouldn’t call and she decided she’d see the text later. She didn't know she’d hate herself for it afterwards.
For when night fell, Sharon decided to take a stroll through Low-Town. She stopped in front of an appliances shop, neon signs lighting the street. All screens played the same footage of an attack on New York, and reports of spaceships invading Wakanda.
Sharon's heart was caught in her throat. All she could think of were brief flashes of the invasion of New York in 2012. She raced back to the apartment and looked at Steve’s text. Anxiety manifested in the worst way possible, leaving her heart thumping in her chest amd her fingers cold.
Wanda sent a distress signal. OTW. Stay safe.
Sharon’s feet gave way, and she collapsed on the floor. What she had not known back then was that this was just the start of a nightmare that would become her life for a long, long time.
Present
Sam was the life of the party. His extroverted personality shined as he helped everyone sit and adjust and shared a laugh about something with almost everybody, making his way around the tables.
When Sam had invited Sharon for Thanksgiving, she had refused politely. Anywhere Sam was, Bucky was sure to follow, and after what their last meeting was like… she had made up her mind that she would put an end to it, whatever it was, and save them both the pain.
“If you don't show up at my house Carter I'll bring a thawed turkey to yours,” Sam said on the phone. “Mr. Staring Problem included. I hope you have an oven.” That wasn't going to make things easier, so Sharon eventually accepted the invitation. It's not like she had plans. No. She had thought about calling Mack, but that didn't matter now.
She opted to sit next to Sarah for dinner. At one point, Bucky filled everyone's glasses. And brought the giant jug to her. He smiled as he poured her drink and she smiled back. Sam cleared his throat and Bucky rolled his eyes, backing away. It was cute, and she fought another smile from creeping onto her face. She was avoiding him, she didn't have to be rude about it.
Sam came to her after a while and whispered in her ear, saying that he had to talk to her about something, and pulled her away from the crowd.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
“Nothing’s wrong! I just... You probably already know, given your spy training and what not.”
“Get to the point, Sam,” she nearly giggled.
“He likes you,” Sam said and they both looked at Bucky, carrying someone's kid on his back. He looked happy. Peaceful. Not the assassin SHIELD kept classified files on all those years ago. This place did him good. Sam did him good. Sharon sighed, her smile contorted to a frown. She knew, of course, she was starting to observe the telltale signs. He was softer around her, more attentive.
“Would it be that bad?” Sam asked.
There was so much going on in her mind, a constant loop from one unwanted thought to another. If anything, she needed therapy. She had been abandoned by the one man she trusted with her life, now he was gone and his best friend liked her. Fate was too cruel.
“Can I enjoy Thanksgiving today and leave decision making to tomorrow?” she asked innocently. Sam smirked at her and nudged her shoulder. He offered her his elbow, which she gladly took as they walked back to the tables.
After the meal and hearty conversation, Sam and Sarah got into an intense story from their school life, each insisting the other was telling it wrong. Sharon couldn't remember what they were laughing about after a while, but she found herself laughing so hard that she had to set her beer bottle on the table to wipe her tears. Eventually, as night settled and everyone lost count of how much they had drank, Sarah said she'd take the kids to bed and that if Sam had a brain in his skull, he would do the same for his friends. Most of the people had left. And as the stars settled, only Sam, Sharon and Bucky were left at the docks, sitting at one end of the table under a yellow bulb.
“You’ve been quiet today, what’s on your mind?” Bucky asked. Sharon blinked. Once. Twice. Good memory was a curse. Served well in her line of work, but as the words came out of Bucky's mouth, she was taken back to a dark hallway, cold night and shitty motel.
“What happened to Steve?” she asked abruptly. She didn't know if it was the alcohol in her system or something else, but her question took them by surprise. She was shocked it came out of her too. But it had always been there, in the back of her mind, nagging her. And whenever she saw Bucky and Sam, it bothered her even more. The two men exchanged looks and Sam sat upright.
“If you give me some bullshit about the moon, I will leave,” she warned. Sharon was only being intimidating to get the right answer from them.
“He’s gone, Sharon,” Bucky said, eyes on the floor, unable to hold her gaze.
“That’s not enough for me,” she said.
“He wanted-” Sam said.
“Sam…” Bucky warned.
“She deserves to know,” Sam said. Sharon observed the exchange silently. Bucky leaned back into his chair in defeat and shrugged his shoulders.
“When everyone came back, Steve decided he would be the one to return the stones, that thing on Vision’s head and with Doctor-”
“I know what the infinity stones are, Sam. I worked for Fury.”
“Right, well. I offer to join him, he says he’ll do it on his own. He steps on the platform. We wait. Five seconds. It was supposed to be five seconds. He never came back through the portal. Instead, we find him by the lake. He’s sitting on a bench. He’s older, grey. Wearing a wedding ring,” Sam smiled. “Hands me the shield. I can’t explain the science of it. I just know he lived a life.”
Sharon didn’t know she had tears in her eyes until she tasted salt in her mouth. She wiped at her face roughly and stood up.
She had told them she would leave if they lied, now she was leaving because she couldn’t handle the truth. She paced through the field and Sam called after her.
She didn’t stop, fished for the keys of her rental and had nearly unlocked the car until Bucky’s metal arm shut the door.
“You can't drive,” he said. Sharon stood stubbornly still.
“I want to leave,” she fumed. He didn't budge. Just as stubborn as her. "Please," she pleaded, frustrated beyond words. Tears welled at the corner of her eyes and he gave in, sighing. He stepped away, but not enough for her to open the door.
"I'm driving," he said, like ordering a soldier. Sharon knew she was too tipsy and the super soldier in front of her was barely affected by all the drinks he’d had. She roughly shoved the keys in his hands and made her way around the car.
The drive to the airport was utterly silent. Sharon spent the entire time staring out of her window, knees pressed to her chest. She felt numb. Like there was nothing. Like she was watching her body from the outside. She tried to think of anything and everything except for what Sam had said. The silence meant her mind was aloud with her thoughts, leaping from one thing to another, making her squirm inwardly. Every now and then she’d catch Bucky glancing at her then back on the road.
They had chosen to keep this from her. Would they have never told her if she hadn’t asked? It made her want to jump out of the moving car. And yet she still had to process what Steve had done.
By the time they reached the airport, a light drizzle floated like mist in the air. Even if the flights were delayed, she’d prefer waiting on the airport benches than anywhere near Bucky or Sam. She had the earnest urge to get away from it all, to get away from them. Even if her anger would subside, and she knew it would, at that moment, she just wanted out.
Bucky parked the car in front of the terminal and Sharon got out without a word.
Bucky
It was almost midnight by the time Bucky returned the rental and from there walked on foot to Sam's. The drizzle had subsided, and what remained was the occasional roar of thunder. Sam was seated on the steps of the porch, waiting for him.
"Did she get a flight?" Sam asked. Bucky rolled his eyes at Sam’s calmness.
“Why did you tell her!?” he argued.
“Well, how long were we supposed to keep it from her!” Sam raised his voice.
“We could’ve waited until she was in a better place. Jesus… Sam, she was zoned out the entire ride!” Bucky said, now rubbing a hand over his face. “Why did you have to tell her, Sam,” Bucky sighed.
“Because they were screwing each other when Thanos attacked, Bucky.”
Bucky’s head snapped up, waiting for Sam to turn this into some one liner. But he didn't. He was serious.
“One day Sharon's there, then there's a fall out between the two and she's gone without saying a word. Then purple douchebag showed up and the world went to shit!”
Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose. Clearly he had missed out on some things while in Wakanda.
“Go to sleep, man,” Sam said, defeated, turning in for the night.