Chapter Text
The light when she opens her eyes is so bright it burns into the back of her skull.
Her head feels like it’s being split into two when she tries to blink the blurriness away from her eyes, but she keeps doing it.
The room is impersonal. Jihyo doesn’t know where she is. At her side table is a glass of water and a radio that plays Nat King Cole’s Mona Lisa softly to fill in the spacious room.
When she sits up, her bones pop so loudly it should be criminal.
God, where am I? Jihyo thinks, and even the simple formulation of thoughts hurts a little bit. How long was I out?
She doesn’t know where she is. The last thing she remembers is—
“Don’t be late, okay?” Jeongyeon’s voice is soft but tight with tears over the comms unit. It’s the only solace she finds as the harsh air resisting the warplane in its violent descent. “We still have to dance.”
Jihyo laughs, even if her cheeks are wet. The ice gets closer and the meters on the dashboard grow more erratic than ever. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world —”
Then the plane breaks through the ice. Then it’s freezing cold. Then there’s nothing.
Sharp pain zaps through Jihyo’s head, and there are tears in her eyes. “Jeongyeon,” she cries to herself. Jeongyeon, I’m alive.
The door opens, and Jihyo’s head snaps up to a nurse, holding a tray. She’s dressed in the official Allied forces uniform, but Jihyo holds her ground. For all she knew she could be in Hydra’s custody.
When the nurse approaches her, somewhat cautiously, Jihyo searches for a possible weapon. The lady sets it down in front of her, and Jihyo looks at her.
“What year is it?” Jihyo asks, her voice scratching against her throat.
“1945, Captain,” the nurse says, moving to stand. Their eyes barely meet.
Something is wrong.
She’s lying.
“Don’t lie to me,” Jihyo says, her patience wearing thin. If this was Hydra, they were doing such a terrible job. “I said. What year is it?”
The poor nurse blanches. “Uh…”
Before she can ask again, the door swings open to a woman clad in black, a patch on her left eye. She’s small, but her build is intimidating, and her clothes are definitely not from 1945. “Captain Park Jihyo,” she says, nodding to the nurse to leave them. “I’ll take it from here. Thank you.”
When the door shuts closed once more, Jihyo looks up at the woman, who promptly introduces herself. “I’m Kim Bora. Head of SHIELD.” She smiles, but only slightly. “You’re on home turf, don’t worry.”
Jihyo asks the same question again. “What year is it?”
Bora pauses before looking Jihyo dead in the eye. “It’s 2011, Captain.”
-
Now Jihyo had faced supposedly scarier things in her life. She punched Nazis in the face, personally saw to the demise of the Red Skull. The war had brought on so much terror.
She will, however, argue that the 21st century is an entirely different kind of horror no amount of training could have prepared her for. Everything was pretty much on demand. Life moved too quickly. How were there so many pocket cell phones? Don’t even get her started on memes.
Of course, there were sessions with SHIELD to integrate her back into the 21st century, with the tech and all but it’s just not hitting the spot the way she wants it to. So much slang flies above her head. Cultural references that were apparently very significant were barely recognizable to her.
Jihyo doesn’t know where to start and it’s ridiculous that she’s literally Captain America but she’s too goddamn shy to ask someone for help - like a list, maybe, of cult classics. Things to watch. Listen to. Read.
(She also doesn’t ask because Jihyo anticipates the list to be overwhelmingly long.)
-
They tell her Jeongyeon is alive and somehow the world is so much brighter than before.
(She, however, has a few moments in the bathroom to cry when she visits for the first time.)
In between integrating into the 21st century and retraining, Jihyo tries to visit her at the home for the elderly as much as she can with Jeongyeon’s favorite flowers in tow.
“How are you holding up?” Jeongyeon asks, her voice breaking. They’d celebrated her 90th birthday a few days ago. “Bora givin’ you a hard time?”
Jihyo laughs, arranging the flowers on the bedside table. Bora was tough but it got her back into shape. “Nothing I hadn’t seen before,” she says, then looks at Jeongyeon. She still looks as beautiful as she did when she was 25. “Can’t say the same about the whole adjusting thing. Has the world moved this fast before?”
Jeongyeon laughs. “You get used to it. Funny to see you struggle a bit, though.”
“Shut up!”
They laugh and then the now-familiar glassy look is back. Jeongyeon, with the same light brown eyes, looks up at her. Then she starts tearing up. “Jihyo,” she says, like she always does when this happens. Her Alzheimer’s has gotten worse over the years, they told her. “You’re alive…”
Jihyo stops what she’s doing to sit beside Jeongyeon and to tuck some of her hair behind her ear. “Yes,” she says, even if it doesn’t feel true sometimes. “Yes, I’m alive.”
-
Sometimes it’s lonely at SHIELD despite the greetings at the hallway and some of the people asking her to lunch very stiffly.
Sometimes being Captain America was hard to shake off. She just wanted to be Park Jihyo most times.
Bora did see her as just Park Jihyo, but she was too busy and too important to even be in one place all the time.
She missed Tzuyu. It would be easier with her. Jihyo never really recovered from losing her and maybe a part of her will always blame herself for not catching her fast enough. Not getting to her in time to pull her up back onto the tram.
It was lonely at SHIELD until she runs into her. Striking red hair, unreadable face. Her kevlar suit stood out from the standard uniform. Jihyo walks past her and she knows she’s staring, but the stranger only spares her a glance before she looks away, set straight towards the briefing room, where people head for post-mission briefings.
That’s where Jihyo is headed since that’s where Bora is, and she needed some files. She and the stranger wait in earth-shattering silence in front of the door before it slides open, letting them in.
Bora greets them with a loud, “Cap, Widow, just the people I need to see,” She says, handing both Jihyo and the stranger - Widow - the things they needed. “I’m not sure if you’ve been acquainted but Captain Park Jihyo, meet our Black Widow Myoui Mina.”
Mina gives her a stiff nod and Jihyo returns it, averting her eyes. There’s nothing more to say so Jihyo turns to take her leave with the files that Bora had given her.
Black Widow, huh? Jihyo thinks, lying on her government-issued bed. She sits up to get the tablet they’d given her (and she’d promptly learned how to use, thank you very much) to pull up a quick search which still amazes her no matter how many times she tries.
The woman’s profile comes up on the member database available to her clearance.
Myoui Mina
Age: 26 (est.)
Blood Type: A
Gender: F
Nationality: Japanese, American, Russian
Affiliations: Red Room (formerly), KGB (formerly), SHIELD (since 2004)
Status: Alive
Skill Set: Hand-to-hand combat, intimidation, intelligence handling, long-term and short-term undercover surveillance, languages
That’s all Jihyo gets, because when she scrolls down she’s met with Confidential: Not enough clearance to view.
Jihyo lies back down, tucking the tablet away. They were… pretty much the same age, with the whole ‘being in cryostasis’ thing, and Jihyo hopes they can be at least friends or partners for future missions.
-
Jihyo fiddles with the electric stove in the pantry and is making too many sounds at one-thirty in the morning.
The blasted thing is so hard to operate. She just wants some tea that can maybe make the nightmares a bit more bearable, at least for tonight. Maybe some lighthearted Great British Bake Off, which she watched upon Bora and her partner, Agent Minji’s insistence, can make things better.
(“It’s a crucial part of the 21st century,” Bora tells her and Jihyo believes her.
She’s right anyway.)
When she’s about to give up, someone speaks from the doorway.
“Need some help?”
Jihyo looks back to find Black Widow—Mina—standing there, a gym bag slung over her shoulders. She’s wearing a sports bra and gym leggings and Jihyo looks back down at the kettle on the electric stove, a blush crawling up her cheeks. “Unfortunately. Haven’t gotten the hang of this thing just yet.”
Widow pads over, gently setting her bag on the floor to assist her. With one press of a button, the stove starts working. “There.”
The silence is so thick and Jihyo thinks it might be because neither of them really knows how to hold a normal conversation. Jihyo doesn’t — not recently anyway.
Determined, Jihyo tries. “Can’t sleep too?”
Widow only smiles. “Unfortunately,” she repeats Jihyo’s words. “What about you, Captain?”
“Yeah, thus the, you know,” she points to the kettle boiling on the stove. “Also I’m… I’m just Jihyo in here.”
Maybe it’s dark but it’s the first time she sees Mina’s lips lift up in a smile. “If that’s the case, it’s just Mina in here too.” She looks at the tv, a bright light in the dimly lit pantry. “Bake Off?”
It takes a beat before Jihyo realizes she came here to unwind some. “Oh? Oh yeah. Love it.”
Mina nods, taking her mug from the shelf. “Ditto. I prefer British television more than American. But American media has its charms.”
Jihyo laughs. “I’m not sure if I can tell the difference just yet but I’ll let you know.” The mug Mina is holding is so interesting to look at. “If… if you have recommendations, I’d appreciate it.”
The other woman pauses, then bends down to brandish a pen and paper. She doesn’t sit when she scribbles on it quickly, and it takes a few minutes until the first page of the paper is full. Then Mina hands it over to Jihyo, who looks at her incredibly legible handwriting with awe.
“Those are all the proclaimed ‘cult classics’ you may have missed, and some personal favorites from all over the world. It’s in our catalog, I’m sure.” She says, pocketing the pen. “Personally, there’s much more to catch up on with the music. Good luck with that.”
She’s right. Jihyo had recently started with the top 100 hits of each decade she’d been in cryostasis, and so far, she’d loved new wave and the British Invasion bands. She can’t imagine the myriad of songs waiting to be discovered.
It excites as much as it overwhelms.
“Oh, thanks,” is all Jihyo can say and Mina is picking up her bag already to leave, her mug in her hand. She wants to ask about the music. “I’ll see you around.”
Mina gives her a lazy but still somewhat elegant salute.
-
Jihyo burns through that list pretty quickly, it should be embarrassing. Some cult classics were not her favorites but she did love the musicals and Mina’s personal favorites. She didn’t doubt her taste one bit.
-
“Now that you’re ready for the mission,” Bora says, spinning in her chair. She’d grown less and less intimidating when it wasn’t a matter of field work. “How are you adjusting?”
Underneath all of the director’s tough demeanor, Jihyo felt like she was under her care. She tries to remind herself that it’s a job, this is a job, but she can’t help but feel that Bora really did care about her. That she wasn’t expendable.
It’s appreciated, to say the least.
“It’s fine,” she says, truthfully. It gets better every day. She tells Jeongyeon such. “Agent Myoui gave me a list to catch up.”
Bora raises an eyebrow. “Her taste is indisputable.” She looks like she wants to say something else but chooses not to at the last minute.
All of Mina’s personal favorites — Kon Satoshi, Sofia Coppola, Wong Kar Wai, and so many more — were impeccable. Jihyo can only agree.
-
Jihyo reclines against the pantry’s couch, resting her legs against the length of it. Even if the super serum repairs her tired and damaged muscles faster than any human being on earth, it didn’t stop her body from aching for at least an hour or so after the adrenaline settles.
Her first mission went pretty smoothly, as far as first missions after spending 65 years in cryostasis go. It was simple: pick up, protect the target from the growing number of Hydra agents that they’re currently investigating.
Being with her shield again felt different, but Jihyo’s starting to learn that sometimes different is good.
Except for the whole paperwork post-mission thing. Jihyo looked at the sets of papers Bora had given to her after for her to fill up.
(Bora smiles at her apologetically when Jihyo sees the stacks of paper. “We’re trying to automate this whole workflow of post-mission paperwork, so it’d be great if you can bear with us a little bit.”
Jihyo doesn’t know what half those words meant, but it seems as if they’re going to do away with the whole manual process of paperwork. She nods anyway and hopes that day comes quickly.)
She wants to cross out some titles on Mina’s list, and she’s watching Rocky Horror Picture Show before she gets some more work done. When she switches on the massive television, she’s greeted with news of the one and only Iron Man, Im Nayeon.
Jihyo notices she’s been taking up so much of the news lately. She can breathe and the media would eat that up.
Technically speaking, they’re both in SHIELD but she hadn’t had the pleasure to work with her yet. She’s not sure if she wants to in the first place.
The door slides open and Jihyo looks back to Mina, in casual clothes. They’d seen each other on the helipad after she’d come from her mission with the very person on the screen now. Jihyo waves then turns back to the screen, knowing Mina is going to join her. “I’m afraid to ask how she is because it would be classified information.” It isn’t the first time Mina used that on her.
Mina takes a seat beside her. “I don’t think it’s classified information that she’s egotistical and mostly a pain in the ass.” Jihyo laughs at Mina’s words matched with her deadpan expression. They’re quiet when they watch Iron Man launch into the sky. “She has a good heart. It’s just taking some time to unlearn all that.”
Jihyo hums, watching Iron Man do loops in the sky before taking out some nukes and launching it back into the sky. “I, for one, have had enough Im Nayeon for a bit,” Mina takes the remote and switches it to their movie catalog. “What are we watching?”
It becomes a routine and Jihyo likes it a lot. “Rocky Horror Picture Show.”
She thinks she sees Mina smile at her when she loads it up, their post-mission papers forgotten for now.
-
“You found a friend, huh?”
Jihyo rolls her eyes at Jeongyeon. “It wasn’t hard.”
She isn’t prepared when Jeongyeon smiles at her with the same kind of fondness. “No, it isn’t hard to be your friend. Not at all.”
-
It’s only a matter of time that she and Mina have a mission together.
They’re deployed in Hanoi and the tropical humidity is starting to get to her. Despite that, the safehouse is nice and breezy.
It’s perfect except that there’s only one bed for the two of them. Sorry, Bora sends over through their encrypted messaging platform but knowing her, she really isn't. All hotels around the hotspot are booked.
Jihyo curses the woman but tries to not be bothered by it.
Mina surely seems like she isn’t. She comes out of the bathroom, freshly showered, in a simple tank top and compression shorts that make her legs look godly.
That night, Jihyo stays at the farthest edge of the double bed she almost falls off a couple of times.