AGENT 13 [Sharon Carter] (agent13) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-04-05 20:28:00 |
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Entry tags: | !log, sharon carter / agent 13 (616), steve rogers / captain america (616) |
Who: Sharon Carter (616) & Steve Rogers (616)
When: The evening of his arrival
Where: O’Hara’s Irish Pub. After all, most of Steve and Sharon’s best conversations have happened over beer and cheeseburgers.
What: Getting Steve up to speed on this world’s SHIELD and Avengers -- Tony Stark’s approaching wedding, the fact she’s totally not dead -- and the fact that she’s seeing someone special.
Rating: PG-13 TRIGGER WARNING: Tiny implication of a near suicide attempt.
Sharon sat at a booth, wearing a leather jack to conceal her gun in its shoulder holster, and already a pint into the evening as she waited for Rogers to turn up. She was happy to see him, of course she was. First and foremost, regardless of who she was seeing of what she was doing, he was her best friend. A piece missing, and a partner whose absence had been felt for far too long. She wasn’t nervous about telling him about her relationship with other Steve, far from it. She knew that what he would want, without question, was that she be content here, in this new universe. So as far as she was concerned, there were other, far more pressing matters to get out of the way first. Things that were probably better coming from her than anyone else. What happened with SHIELD and the shape that the Avengers organisation was taking here were both important, and knowing Steve’s commitment and loyalty to duty, information about those things would probably be where most of his interest was placed anyway. She’d never really compared them, the Steve that she met here and the Steve that she’d left behind in her universe. It might be surprising to some, to learn that, and she’d certainly had to field a few snide remarks and thoughts about the fact that her heart seemed to fall into old habits, but it wasn’t as though she’d taken up with this world’s Steve as a way of replacing her own. She’d first become friends with this Rogers because he’d learned that Bucky Barnes was still alive and that the Winter Soldier was a real and dangerous threat here. She’d stuck with him, telling him everything she’d known about hunting down Bucky back home, and they’d become good friend while he was still dating Peggy, and when he dated Blossom, too. She’d had her own romances, with Rhodey and with Jessica Drew in the interim, but eventually they’d fallen for each other against, really, what Sharon wanted and against reason and probably good judgement. She supposed the feelings started when she had a dream that granted her some memories from back home. She recalled asking Steve to marry her, and then supposedly dying in an explosion to save him. Death had a somewhat freeing effect on her. When faced with the reality that her life back home might be over, and that she never would marry Steve or gain the future she’d often dreamed about, she saw fit to seize the opportunities that were presented to her, and that meant giving in to the way that she felt about the Steve here, and the happiness that came with it. Iit was working so far. It had worked for six months, and she loved him. He’d been there for her when she remembered things from back home that she’d rather have forgotten -- a second dream, this one revealing that she hadn’t died, but was instead Zola’s prisoner for decades in which she raised Steve’s son Ian as her own. She remembered her reunion with Steve, aged because of his travels through spacetime, and the betrayal of Jet Black after Sam took over the role as Captain America. It had been a difficult time for her, and the primary reason that, after the destruction of SHIELD because it was revealed that HYDRA had been hiding in plain sight within its ranks for decades, she saw fit to return to the new SHIELD as it was forming. Sharon had never felt much of a connection with her parents, or with Virginia where she’d grown up. Her home had always been with SHIELD and there was no sense in denying it. There was no place that she wanted to be more than beside Nick Fury, helping him as best she could with all her strengths and abilities. She knew that SHIELD’s tactics and those of the Avengers had never exactly jived and she was worried that her return to the old guard might threaten her relationship with the man who’d been so responsible for the takedown of the organisation, but thus far he’d shown himself to be nothing but supportive. But then, she worried that he wasn’t as aware of how deep her commitment to SHIELD ran. There had only been a few times when she’d betrayed her orders, and she’d only done so because of her feelings and loyalty for the person she was waiting to meet now. And he understood the meaning behind her actions better than anyone else ever could. He knew her reasons, and they weren’t sprung from love or her affection for him. For Sharon, it had always been the mission that had counted above all else, it had just been that sometimes -- sometimes -- Steve’s mission and what he hoped to accomplish had been more important still. She took a drink from her second pint and picked up the menu to give it a second read through. She didn’t really need to. She’d been to enough pubs in her day to know exactly what they offered. Really, Irish pubs were the best, particularly when they included things on their menu like “Traditional Irish Nachos”. Whatever the hell those were. If there was, ever present, constant in the life of Steven Rogers, it would have been that he was always prompt and punctual. Maybe that was selling short some of his better qualities, qualities no doubt known to the woman he was slated to meet at this pub, but that wasn’t the point. The point was, after dropping into this strange alternate reality, there was a tiny piece of normalcy. It was something Steve had learned long ago to latch onto, to take with him when he stared into the dark heart of whatever might be in front of him. It was often his greatest strength, especially in those times when he felt the need to plant his feet and tell the world that it was not him that would be moving. Pushing into the restaurant, his eyes instantly settled on the nature of the room. Restaurant was arguably a rather polite title for the place, but it didn’t surprise him that this was the spot Sharon had picked for their little reunion. It was quiet, with tight quarters and minimal window frontage. Similarly, the minimal number of entrances and exits provided an ease of keeping an eye on the room. These types of spots were intimately familiar to Steve, particularly when it came to meetings with many of the long standing members of his past. It didn’t take him long to spot the woman he’d come to meet either, as that same model could easily be applied. Taking a moment, Steve adjusted the collar of his own leather jacket, smoothing down the lapels against the flat of his own, holsterless, shoulder. Nervous preening was hardly a habit of his, but pride in his appearance certainly was. It wasn’t some simple vanity however, and certainly nothing like Tony’s not-so-borderline narcissism, but rather the understanding of his image. Steve Rogers knew who he was, knew it was limited to simply the universe he lived inside, and knew the importance of living of to that, of being the legend people knew. It was a heavy burden at times, to be sure, but, in this moment? Well, it just felt right. Sharon wouldn’t have wanted anyone else sitting down at that table anyway. The weight of their history tugged at his legs, half pleading with the serum toned muscles of his calves to halt his momentum and turn right around. How much had they seen together? Certainly enough that he wasn’t going to let the mess of his own head get in the way. It was another check in the box of who he was, a man who stood tall in the face of adversity, especially when it came from within. Sure, he’d made his mistakes before, lost his cool when he shouldn’t have, but did that even matter here? Did it even matter anywhere? Enhanced as he was, Steve knew he wasn’t perfect -- even if he felt like he was supposed to be. “Irish Nachos?” He let the question fall from his lips once he was confident they were within earshot. “With beer?” There was a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth as he slid into the booth across from her. “That’s a bold choice Sharon. Not that I’d expect any less.” Because, really, that’s what it was all about right? They were two people who, though often uncompromising to the point of migraines in their associates, were precisely what people expected them to be. The line between reality and image blurred so often there were few who could have even begun to spot the discrepancies anymore. A polite pause was taken, with Steve putting in an order for a Bronx Burger, fries, and a bottle of the Brooklyn Lager, before the appropriate and non-negotiable politeness was offered up to their server. His eyes settled on Sharon after, taking stock of her appearance. Blues eyes studied the facets of her face, checking for signs of fatigue or worry in a wash of old habits. “You’re looking well.” He offered without any sort of subliminal tone. He was glad to see it, and her, for obvious reasons. “And I appreciate the invitation for a bite to eat. No matter how many times I go through this dimension hopping business, it never ceases to amaze me just how hungry it leaves me.” “Everything makes you hungry, Rogers.” Sharon straightened up in the booth, slinging her arm across the backrest beside her and tilting her chin up to get a better look at the man as he settled in across the table. At first glance he looked exactly like the man she’d seen that morning over breakfast. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the Man Out of Time, but she knew better. Beneath those sturdy shoulders and stupidly blue eyes was someone a lot more world-worn and a man who’d earned the right to be exhausted in ways that this universe’s Captain hadn’t yet. It wasn’t necessarily something to his credit, but it spoke to their shared history and the years they’d spent together against odds and against the choices and principles that had so often threatened to rip them apart. She smiled gently, and smacked his arm with her menu before sticking it back in the rack of condiments where it belonged. Being a SHIELD agent meant a person had to have a certain amount of control over their emotions, or at least, how they presented. For Sharon, when she felt things so deeply that they threatened to break her cool facade, no matter what the nature of those feeling were, her reaction was almost always violence and for a brief moment she very nearly reached across the table to grab him day his perfectly adjusted collar and punch him in that fancy jaw of his. Not because she wanted to hurt him, and not because this meeting in any way hurt her but because seeing him made her more acutely aware of how much she’d missed him than she’d anticipated and there was no way to process that feeling besides being angry, at herself -- at him. At the universe that seemed hellbent on making sure they always just missed each other. Nothing ever aligned just for them, no matter how long she’d prayed that it would. Sharon sighed, taking her arm down from the back of the booth and running it through her hair. She kept her expression neutral, revealing very little of how she felt. Instead, Carter tilted her head to the side and glanced past Steve for a moment, focusing on a point in the middle distance as she gathered her thoughts and levelled her feelings before she found the purpose to meet his (stupidly blue) eyes once more. “It’s good to see you. I missed you, you know.” She said, and she meant it. It wasn’t as though the Steve from this universe was just a placeholder or a facsimile. He was a different person and she saw him as such, just like she had never just been another Carter to him. Looking across the table at Rogers now, Sharon thought she finally understood how Steve felt about her and how it was unique but as passionate and important to him as his love had been for Peggy. Some kinds of love never really faded; were never really exhausted. But hearts were built to move on and hers had. “And I’m glad you don’t look like a dried up Clint Eastwood. Which probably doesn’t mean a whole lot to you, I know, but I’ll try my best to explain everything that I can. What’s the last thing you remember from back home, before coming here?” “Not everything.” Steve responded in a collected tone. While it was true that the man had an appetite that was really only rivaled by Logan, there were times when sustenance became a secondary course. Even now, knowing that there was a burger and fries on the way, he didn’t find much in the ways of appetite gnawing at his stomach. No doubt it was there but, like the woman who sat across from him, his mind was intimately familiar with the process of prioritizing. There were much more important things right now. The menu struck his arm with a sense of undeniable nostalgia, and Steve’s smile only blossomed. There was a code among soldiers, a language spoken not in words, but gestures. He’d known many such men and women in his lifetime, some of whom shared her same surname, and each of the spoke a different dialect. Even Steve’s own, while decidedly more direct, carried with it the subtle nuances of smiles and shoulder claps that could deliver soliloquies that could have likely earned him a standing ovation inside the Globe Theatre. The lifted arm, like the menu swat, drew a precision tracing of his eyes. He watched as her fingers swept through her hair, half bracing his toes against the floor for when those fingers curled into a ball and came swinging ceremoniously in his direction. It was another of those traits and habits, things that spoke the space that hung between them that went well beyond the table in this New York eatery. It spoke to tensions, tensions that were not at all unexpected considering the circumstances, but causes for concern never the less. Fortunately, it appeared Sharon was in luck, as their server arrived to deliver his beer in time to offer them a brief pause. Collaborating the data in his head wasn’t always the easiest task, even for a brain like his. There were facts and details, facets of people, expressions and gestures, things Steve Rogers could all easily get a handle on. Figuring out where it all fit, how it all went together? That was the hard part, a fact that was doubly true when dealing with S.H.I.E.L.D., triple if you took into account alternate realities. “You hit me with a menu…” Steve let his voice trail lightly, punctuating the light play on their timeless dynamic. “It couldn’t have been that much.” Which he also knew wasn’t true and in no way meant. It was a simple buy, a purchase of a few more seconds while Steve paired the sight of her against his memory. He was looking for discrepancies, hallmarks that might give him some indicator of how much time had passed between their last encounter. When her final question hit him however, Steve found his smile dipping slightly. The question, ‘what was the last thing you remember’, was decidedly more apt than she might have intended. There was a plethora of things he had suddenly remembered, most of which Steve offered to wash down with another swallow of alcohol rather than give the clipped answer he might have otherwise. “New York’s probably not an answer you’ll accept.” It wasn’t a question, because the level of vagueness there rivaled something that might have come out of Fury’s mouth. It was a truth with more holes in it than the cheese he was about to get on his burger. But why was she asking? What were those comments about Clint Eastwood? “Why?” Seemed the most reasonable follow up question. She knew something. “If I’m going to need to invest in a midwestern poncho and a horse, I’d like to know..” His voice feathered softly as his eyes dipped down to his glass. “There was an altercation on the streets of New York between a large collection of heroes, and The Mindless Ones.” Because that answer was the best one he could give without casting a dark cloud over a gathering that he’d hoped would be full of more smiles than that. Maybe Sharon was right. Their timing always was the worst. “I think you’re going to have to work on your angry old man face, a little. You’re not nearly menacing enough to tell kids to get off your lawn.” Sharon put one hand squarely on the table and leaned forward, reaching with her left not to strike him, but to touch the side of his face. She didn’t really know what he was talking about, didn’t remember the attack of the Mindless Ones at all, which meant that by the time he’d seen them, he’d already watched her fall in Dimension Z. She admired his bravery; his resolve, at not bringing it up immediately, but what he confessed told her enough. She stroked the side of his jaw with her thumb once before she retreated, settling back into her seat as the last words she’d said to him rang through her mind so fresh and so clear it was like she could hear herself utter them. Sharon set her hands in front of her and laced her fingers together, squeezing them so tightly she’d almost be surprised if she didn’t leave bruises. She remembered the first time he’d asked her to marry him. To give up SHIELD and walk away from her fight to be his wife. She’d told him then, on no uncertain terms, to go fuck himself. When she’s asked him, that day before he’d gotten on the subway, to marry her, she hadn’t asked him to give up his. She never would. Dating a man like Steve Rogers was, and had always been, difficult. See, the thing with Steve was that he always put other people (read: the entire world) as a collective before himself and his own happiness. Which sounded great on paper, but when you were the person that represented that happiness, if often meant that you had to come second to everyone else too. It wasn’t that he wasn’t there for her when she needed him, it wasn’t that he hadn’t tried his best, and it certainly wasn’t that she hadn’t known what she had signed up for -- but that didn’t always make it easier. What they saw in each other had always been a happy ending. A “someday” or a “maybe when” and while they always seized their moments together with both hands it always felt like it was the secondary, somehow, to their plans for the future. Plans that, she knew now, were realised. Her memories told her that when she was released from Zola and reunited with Steve, both of them aged through different ways. She didn’t know the full story of what happened to Rogers, but she knew that time in Zola’s dimension moved differently. She’d lived decades in the span of a few weeks. But when they found each other, old and wise and the days of the battlefield long behind them, they were happy. They’d get their fucking house, and two dogs and a white picket fence. They’d get each other. “I missed a few things.” She started, her hands unlatching so she could reach across the table and take one of his. “With what happened in Dimension Z. I didn’t die, obviously, but I was trapped there for... a while.” He didn’t need the details. “When I got out, things had changed. Stark was gone, Thor was -- you were changed. You’d grown older. The serum was gone, I think and Sam -- Sam took over for you as Captain America. But I didn’t see any of this, really. I’ve been here. We get dreams sometimes, they tell us how things’ll go back home and I saw all of that in those. We’re brought here from different places in our timeline. The last thing I was back home for was -- Goliath’s funeral, actually. Before things all went to hell.” Before Steve had been shot by -- well, there was no sense getting into all of that. They knew how it went. It had taken Nick a lot of alcohol to bring himself to the point where he could fill Sharon in on what she’d done, how Bucky had saved her and how Steve regained himself from underneath Red Skull’s influence. “But I guess none of what happened there matters as much as what’s been happening here. This is the world you’ve got to prepare yourself for.” This was one of those times. The weight of the world fell on Steve’s shoulders. It wasn’t just his weight, or even his own happiness, that was about to be cast aside ‘for the greater good’, but near everything he had every reasonable right to want. That was the way the man was, there was no other way for it. Even if he’d landed in a world where everything had been falling apart -- a place he had decidedly been -- he would have bent his hand pull it back up to its feet. No matter how tired he was, he’d help it soldier on. That was who Steve Rogers was, it was as unshakeable as his belief in the idea of a ‘right way’ of the world. Time had clearly passed differently for both of them. The pictures in his mind, they were off. It was by but the tiniest fraction, but it was Steve and this was Sharon. Even the slightest step out of rhythm sent loud warnings and called immediate attention. The slap in particular however, told Steve a great deal. “Heck of a place to take a vacation.” He lifted a muscular thumb up to his jaw and smeared the warmth of the touch across the bold line of his jaw before reaching for his drink again. Dimension Z was, if he was to really put thought into the idea, the closest thing Steve could have imagined to an actual Hell. It was a sentiment spared only in the most intimate and trustworthy of company. Even Logan, a man who Steve considered one of his closest real friends, had gotten little more from Steve on the matter than stern shouting and cursing him. It was one of many things Steve was already making notes to make amends for since his arrival here. At least he could say that about parallel dimensions. They were pretty good for clearing the conscience and giving you a genuine chance to do better. Steve Rogers knew moments like that didn’t come along very often, and he sure wasn’t about to waste the opportunity leaving dark clouds to hang over what he wanted this to be. Not for himself, of course, but for Sharon, he needed to keep his strength up. He needed to keep his shoulder strong, needed to keep his feet planted and his legs shored. If the the world was going to fall on his shoulders, then Steve Rogers was going to make damn sure he was there to hold it up. “I’ve got to say, being alive looks good on you.” He didn’t shy away when she reached for his hand, much preferring that to the way she seemed to be trying to crush the emotion out of her knuckles. He made a mental note for them to get a spar in soon. “Any chance though that’s what this is, one of those dreams?” Because being blunt about feelings wasn’t his style, but if there was one, ever present constant in his tone? That hope? In those words it had clearly been turned up to a level that was unique to Captain America himself. “I remember those days...” His slid his hand around hers gently. They had been dark times, for certain. There were still moments of that, bits of what had gone on in that time that shook Steve awake some nights. His fights with Tony and their subsequent fallout in particular were a sizeable scar Steve carried on his heart. That was an even more pointed statement when he thought about what had happened with Sharon...and Ian. “Sometimes it’s the hard days that remind us just how much it is we can actually handle. They push us so far beyond our limits that they redefine them.” It just wouldn’t have been a lunch date with Steve if there wasn’t a speech in there somewhere. “We’ve been through some pretty terrible things…” The ‘we’ve’ was layered with so many values it was almost a word thick enough to choke on. “...and, considering the circumstances at the moment? I’d be inclined to think that this universe isn’t going to be nearly as bad as any of that.” Steve locked eyes with her, smiling in that obnoxiously, excessively, proud, way that was damn near trademarked. “Now drink your beer before it goes flat, and get me up to speed. I’d like to get my feet on the ground as soon as possible.” “Always so goddamn bossy.” But, she did as instructed and picked up her beer, downing about half of the thing in one go. She needed it, really, if she was going to get through everything that she had to tell him next. There would be some omissions, obviously. It was probably better if he knew absolutely nothing of the last time that he was here. Really, as far as she was concerned, the Steve who’d thought himself from her universe before probably hadn’t been, but from one similar. She was happy to leave him in the past. But other things she couldn’t. It was just hard to know where to start. “There’s another Steve in this world, he’s native. And one more like you, who came through from another dimension. He brought a Bucky Barnes with him, a little one. You’ll like him, he’s a jerk and he has a crush on me.” Her expression softened a touch, at the thought of Barnes. It wasn’t that long ago that the Tesseract had seen to it to age him up a few decades and he’d told her that they got married when he was in his mid-twenties and had been together since. She didn’t know if that would really be her future in his place. After all, other people -- like Angel -- had had a supposed future here too, before he’d been sent back home, or wherever it was the Tesseract put people next. She liked Bucky a great deal, had started training him for SHIELD even before he was old enough to join, and had him on her team now that he was. Bucky was family. Theirs, when he’d been here, was like family too. That’s how it had to be when you were one of the few that were tethered close to Rogers. You cared about each other and you trusted each other with life, limb and everything inbetween. Sharon was so lost in her thoughts that for a second, she didn’t notice Steve’s reaction at first, or the fact that he’d gotten up from his chair. She should have known what the words “Bucky Barnes” in any context would do to him, and she rolled her eyes as he rose from his seat. “No -- Steve. Sit down. I promise I’ll introduce you to him or whatever just -- Look, there’s more I need to tell you, you moron.” By the time Sharon’s words hit his ear, or to be more precise, by the time they were louder than the words ‘Bucky Barnes’? Steve was already half way into a stride. A second longer and he probably would have been sprinting, only to run back in the door and apologize before dashing out again. Bucky, almost like none other, was one of several weak spots in the shield that Steve so often wore. There weren’t many, with most spots holding back the tides of force that would seek to move him, but those few? People like Bucky, and Sharon, people like Ian and Rikki? There were spots where, even when guarded, still felt the heavy hammer blow against his knuckles. It was enough to get Steve off that table and away from Sharon and a cold beer...and that was saying quite a bit. Taking a moment, Steve slid back into the booth. “All right. I’m sorry I -- “ He shifted, pausing. He didn’t need to finish that statement. “I’m with you and all ears.” So. Fucking. Predictable. “Thank you, it means a lot.” Sharon rolled her eyes and lifted up her glass to tap it against his as he settled back into his seat. The waitress reappeared to place their food down in front of them, which she hoped would help Rogers stay where she needed him to be for a least a little bit longer. “There are a few people here from back home, Avengers. Carol, Bruce, Clint, Jess and Natasha. They’re here, and Logan is too. So is Nick, but he’s a little bit harder to find. Oh, and Tony. Tony is here. He’s getting married next month.” Sharon assumed that that would rouse Steve’s interest enough to keep him curious. There was a lot to take in, but at least most of it was good news. Carter was so glad that she had the chance to be the one he’d come to first. That she was the one who had the opportunity to tell him all of this. So often, the things she had to brief Rogers on weren’t pleasant. Good news, rare as it was, felt warm to hand over. She’d tell him that Rikki was here too, she decided, but only once she was ready to let him run because she knew that there was no way to keep him still when he’d learned that bit of information. Steve was glad the burger showed up. That was a lot of information to swallow and the burger gave him a focus that he could, quite literally, chew on. The news of a young Bucky was a lot to take in, never mind the notion of two other hims. It would have been clear, to Sharon at least, that the medium rare burger was clearly a catalyst for deep thoughts. Steve was compiling a list of who he’d need to touch base with, who he’d need to make direct contact with, and who he needed to be wary of. “Well, at least I’ve got good people in my corner.” He added, with no amount of between the lines reading required to figure out where that statement was more directly aimed. “You’ll have to remind me to send Tony a wedding present.” Which she wouldn’t but it was Steve’s way of expressing happiness for the man’s sake. “Who’s the lucky lady?” Because that was an easier topic of conversation than everything else at the moment and Steve needed more hops and protein if he was going to build a plan for approaching everything else. “Dorian Gray.” There was no sense beating around that particular bush. She knew that Steve might be a bit surprised, but probably not much. Tony had changed a great deal since he and Dorian had taken up together. He’d softened a little, become more involved with his company and his domestic life than she’d ever seen him before. But, she supposed she hadn’t had many opportunities to observe Stark in his relationships. Generally, she only spent time around him in an Avengers capacity, though over the last year and a half, they’d become friends. Really, she considered him to be one of her closest allies, and she was glad that he’d found his own happiness here, even if it was in a somewhat unlikely place. “Yes, that Dorian Gray, from the Oscar Wilde book. People from -- well, people from worlds we think are fictional are here too. Not too many that you’d know. Seems no one from Mark Twain’s books has shown up yet, and Lord knows, that’s probably all you’ve ever read.” That….was not the answer Steve was expecting. “Well good for him.” Because what else was there to say to that completely and utterly surprising revelation? It wasn’t like he was going to judge them, or anyone for that matter. Tony deserved a shot at happiness, he really did. Even if the man would probably…Steve lifted his beer to cool the thought. He could go down that road later. Now was not the time or the place. “Do you know what day the wedding is?” He offered instead, both genuinely curious and wanting to know how much time he had to reasonably decide if he should ask to attend before it was rude. “And I still read the newspaper. Several of them in fact.” He switched back to the lighter topics again, letting the conversation follow their usual ebb and flow. It felt good to fall back in to, to have a touch of the world he knew to help ground him in the one that he was now certain would turn him upside down. “So it’s not fair to say all I read is Mark Twain. Besides…” Steve let another bite of burger punctuate the draw he took with the joke.”I’ve read L. Frank Baum too. I love the Wizard of Oz.” “Steve, no one reads the newspaper.” She shook her head, sagely. “But, Tony is getting married on the 25th of May, and I’m sure he’ll want you there. The other Steve, the native from this world, he’s Dorian’s best man.” Why did he have to be so sweet, with his motherfucking L. Frank Baum and his Wizard of Oz? It was so easy to talk to him and it brought back so many memories of better times. Laying in bed on the few mornings she could keep him on the mattress past 6AM, quiet dinners that they prepared together before curling up on the sofa and trying not to think about how sore they were, or how tired. She remembered, once, when she’d gone to Paris to find him once he’d been thrown out of America and found him sulking in a hotel room about the station he’d found himself in. She’d smacked him back into shape, given him his purpose and got him on his feet. That was what she did, when she had to. She was there for him whenever he needed her to be and there was no way around the fact that their many years together, and everything that he’d needed her to be, had helped her become who she was now. Steve might be used to carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders, but she’d learned to find her footing while she carried his. Slowly, she picked at her nachos, thinking about all the times she’d made him suffer through Con Air, and the Christmases she’d sat with him in the Avengers Mansion, Santa hat on his head, while they made their way through It’s a Wonderful Life and their holiday favourite, Die Hard. So many traditions, so many years. So much she had to push from her mind right now because there was something she needed to tell him about a man that she’d fallen in love with. But he really started all of these thoughts, because he just fucking had to with his motherfucking L. Frank Baum. “But I know there’s hope for you yet. I’ve seen you checking the Mets scores with your Starkpad. One day, you’ll learn what a blog is.” . “You can’t say nobody when I still do it.” He joked back lightly, plucking one of the fries off his plate before picking up the ketchup bottle to get himself some dip for it. “I’ll make sure to get in touch with him before then and see if it’s alright if I attend. I wouldn’t want to make things awkward for him and his best man.” Because of course Steve would backset to his other self. Probably both of them before the day was even over. He made another mental note to pick out eateries within jogging distance. He’d need some way to burn off the likely number of calories he’d be sucking down in the next few days. “He’s happy?” Because that was the next question, even if it was implied due to the wedding. Marriages sure weren’t what they used to be and he knew because he’d seen what they used to be. After so much time together, it was funny how you could so easily fall back into the habits of sharing a brain. It hadn’t struck him at first, because things that were happy and for him never did, but he followed her down that track of memory lane. He could still recite those movies by heart, could count the number of times she’d rolled her eyes at him for actually reading Tom Sawyer when his mind was too busy to let him sleep, and the equal amount of times she’d simply plucked the book from his fingers and done her best to exhaust him. They were good memories. “How else am I supposed to keep up on my batting averages?” Because even when Steve wasn’t saving the world, or the city, or a cat in a tree, he was a busy guy. Volunteering here, talking with people about outreach programs and inner city improvements. Getting stuck in parallel dimensions even. “How’re they doing here anyway?” Because asking about the Mets? That was as natural to him as the apple pie he was going to have to find for dessert. “You should ask one of the other Steves, or Abbie Mills and Joan Watson, they know more about what’s going on with baseball than I do.” She wasn’t even sure it had started yet. Wasn’t it supposed to stop snowing first? She recalled going to games with Steve when it was cold, but she couldn’t remember for the life of her if they were in the spring or the fall, but she wasn’t about to bring that up and break his heart. Relationships were all about compromise. Sometimes, that meant going to a baseball game. It wasn’t all that bad, really. There were hot dogs and the stadiums always offered free beer because he was Captain America (he always paid anyway). “Tony is very happy. I’ve actually never seen him happier. He started up his own company, Stark Resilient, with Pepper Potts -- she’s here too. Bruce Banner works there with him, I think.” She said. It was difficult, almost, to talk about how great things were going for Stark and the fact that he was getting married, because marriage was such a difficult subject to broach with him because they’d so often skirted around the topic of their own. As content as she was with her current relationship, old wounds still found purpose to sting. Talking about a marriage, in the absence of her own to the man across the table was harder than she’d anticipated it would be. “But Dorian is -- well, he’s something else. I wouldn’t think that a petulant blonde Victorian hedonist would be good for anyone, let alone Stark, but he is. They’re good for each other.” Her words trailed off as she picked up her glass for another drink. She had to tell him. Dragging it out any longer was just going to make things harder to admit. She was glad to be with the Steve she was with, things were different here, and they had so much more time to just be together, which was a luxury she was never afforded between her job and Steve’s commitments back home. This was the closest she’d come to the life that she wanted. Even if it wasn’t with him. “There’s something else, Steve, that I have to tell you.” Though Baseball was hardly the important meat of this meeting, it was clear to see Steve was filing away names and suggestions of Sharon’s. He took them seriously, especially knowing he was going to need to get some kind life under his belt eventually. One step at a time though, take a bite of burger, a sip of good beer, and smile at the woman across the table from you even though you know she only ever went with you to make you happy. Compromises were not a thing Sharon gave out lightly, and Steve had always respected each and every one of them for the golden gift they were. “Guess we’ll just have to get you up to speed then.” Because the promise that he’d be there, with time to give her, shouldn’t have gone without saying. Even if he wasn’t going to come right out and say it. Even if she already knew he’d been standing there like some monument to patience and dedication. He still gave it a voice, delicate as it might have been out of some respect for whatever she might have had going on here. People got lives, and Sharon had clearly been here long enough to get a lay of the land. It required a practical approach, one that involved setting down his burger and wiping his hands on his napkin even. “I really appreciate this Sharon. Shifting from realities is always a little disorienting and a chance to avoid being caught unaware is always a great favor in my book.” It was skirting around the Tony issue while Steve collated the facts. The surge of fresh memories in his head, a thing Steve wasn’t even entirely sure he wanted to remember, had him taking a long pause to chew on his burger. “Maybe it’s the hair?” He mused, taking the highest road he could muster when it came to Dorian and Tony’s relationship. “You know what they say, opposites attract.” And the overlapping bits of their personality didn’t entirely seem to be very opposite -- at least not from Sharon’s telling of it. Whatever the case, he could deal with it as time went on, and he felt like he probably should have made space for a meeting like this with Tony before he went public with his arrival. He wouldn’t, he really couldn’t with everything rattling around inside his school, but Steve made an unspoken promise for soon. “You know you can tell me anything Sharon.” He added, setting everything down to give her his full attention. He hadn’t missed those subtle little cues, things he knew to look for while she was dragging her feet to bring herself a topic that wasn’t going to be easy. It was the thing that drew his hand forward this time, leaving it to rest gently atop her own. Sharon looked at his hand and smiled, her heart reminding her again about how much she’d missed him. She turned her wrist, so their palms were together and she thought about what she needed to say next. The truth was, that Steve -- this man, right here -- represented something to her than no one else ever had or could ever hope to. But it wasn’t love, it wasn’t friendship or hope, it wasn’t truth, justice and the American Way, either. Those were things she found with others, in others, but Rogers held something else that was just his own and would always set him apart. Sacrifice. She’d willingly given up her life to protect him, she hadn’t known when she’d fallen in that explosion in Dimension Z that she would survive to live and become Ian Zola’s mother. She’d died for him. She’d turned her back on SHIELD for him, she’d shot and killed people in front of his eyes so that he wouldn’t have to make the choice himself. Even when he’d been angry at her for doing it. Not all the sacrifices made between them over the years had been hers, and none of them she regretted. But there was no one else that she could set herself aside for in quite the ways she did for him. In fact, she’d promised herself that she wouldn’t make as many sacrifices in her current relationships as she’d done for him in the past. As much as she could tell herself that that move was all about striking up her own independence and not losing herself too much in another Captain America’s orbit, there was more to it than that. Steve had stirred in her the willingness to lay everything on the line for him. The sacrifices she made for him were his because he’d earned them. Because she hadn’t always been willing to make them for Rogers either. She’d dropped their relationship once and gone under deep cover for almost two years, letting him think she was dead, because Fury had needed her to do it. But over time, he’d earned his place in her heart and in her thoughts and that would always been his. “I love you.” She said, shaking her head, and looking at Rogers not with sadness, but with a little bit of uncertainty. As though she couldn’t quite find her footing, which wasn’t a usual thing for a former SHIELD director, like Sharon. “All right? I do, and I always will. Even when I really want to hit you across the back of the head with your own goddamn shield.” As much as Steve Rogers wanted to believe that was the truth of it, that it was what Sharon had wanted to say, it wasn’t that simple. Not that Sharon saying I love you was simple. Exchanges of affection between the two of them were about as rare as either one accepting praise. They were precious moments, things Steve took seriously, and quite to heart. They were things that moved him, him, Captain America, he was the man who didn’t move. He didn’t stop. At least not very often anyway. “Whatever it is…” Because he already knew it was something. “The important thing is, is that you’re here to say it.” The slight turn of her voice, the things she said after letting out that soft padding of genuine affection, told Steve she was worried. Which told him whatever she had to say probably wasn’t good news. That was all right. Steve could take bad news. It wasn’t like it could have been much worse than what he was already thinking, right? Ever the optimist. “And I can tell you I love you too.” Because that certainly counted. “Even when you want to hit me with my shield.” Because he did. It was one of the ways they worked. One of the ways she checked him like no other, and made him check himself besides. “So, as long as you’re not telling me that you want to hit me with something harder than a menu…” His voice trailed as he offered her a light a genuine smile. “...Which, I’m going to assume you’re not...you can tell me.” He squeezed her hand softly. “Besides, we’re having a cheeseburger and a beer. There’s only so bad it can get from right now.” “Yeah, we’re not facing down the Red Skull or flirting with mortal peril so really, this is good for us. But, I had to tell you that I do, because I do -- but also because I want you to know that it’s seperate. That it’s it’s own -- uh, fuck, I’m not good at this.” She laughed shook her head and looked at him with a lopsided, helpless little smirk. It was just that this was complicated. She didn’t know how to explain to him that she was dating a different Steve Rogers but that it wasn’t really about him that she was. Sharon knew that he’d be alright with the fact that she’d moved on, that she’d started dating someone knew, she just wanted to make sure that she was framing it in a way that didn’t make it seem like she wasn’t trying to replace him, and wasn’t just latching herself to the first available Captain America that came along. It was important to her, basically, how she looked at the outcome of this confession and that the quality and merit of her new relationship stood on it’s own and not in the shadow of something else. “I’m seeing someone. His name is Steve.” The revelation came as one might have expected. There was a soft smile at first, appreciating the humor of what they weren’t facing. Steve had frankly seen enough of the Red Skull for the rest of his life. They weren’t staring down the barrel of some, world ending, moment. There was time for Steve to breathe, to think. There was time for him to watch her as she bumbled lightly through the words, his hands only turning over to gently weave both sets of her fingers through his own. “You don’t have to be good at everything.” He comforted, squeezing his fingers softly. It was clear to Steve that, with whatever Sharon had to say, it wasn’t easy for her. Presumably because he wasn’t going to like it, which was only mildly surprising due to the fact that she’d already shot down the notion that the Red Skull was here and death wasn’t looming on the front door of this restaurant, waiting to zap one or both of them back to their respective Hells. When Sharon got to the point however, Steve didn’t even flinch. “I won’t complain, if you think you can get me an autograph.” Because the joke needed to be delivered, a soft ice breaker to get them through the hard parts and down to the bits that mattered. Even still, with Steve sitting sure in the face of the news, his smile didn’t even so much as drop. Whatever hope he might have had, whatever ideas he might have let himself entertain, that didn’t matter. What mattered, what really counted at the end of the day? It fell from Steve lips in only the most genuine of idealistic and hopeful questions. “Are you happy?” “Well, I’d be happier if it was Steve Buscemi, so you know -- I’m sorrier than you are to disappoint you, there.” She was happy, there was no questioning that. If she wasn’t, this evening would be going a lot differently. Not in the sense that she’d club Steve over the head and drag him back to her bedroom, but she knew that if she wasn’t happy or wasn’t proud of her relationship with the man she’d met here, she wouldn’t be so willing to be honest about it and to express it to someone she cared so much about and who cared so much about her. About this, she’d never be able to lie and she knew that if she wasn’t happy or if something was wrong, Rogers would try to move heaven and earth if he could; if it would make it right. “But I am, though. I am happy, I promise.” She said, her hand never moving from beneath his on the table. She wished she could leave this part of the conversation at that, really. But it wouldn’t really be fair to let him to find out what she meant when she’d said ‘his name is Steve’ on his own, and it would come across a little like she was trying to hide something, which she truly wasn’t. “You know me, I wouldn’t put up with anyone very long if I wasn’t.” There was no way to tell him, though, without at least explaining some of the lead up, some of what had happened between them that had brought them to where they were now. It wasn’t just some snap decision or a weekend of poor judgement, or something like that. She’d been in this realm for a year, been his friend for that long, and slowly feelings started to develop that stunned them both. “You, uh. You and him have a few things in common, actually.” “Have you gotten him a star on the walk of fame yet?” Because that was the next, most reasonably unreasonable question he could ask that was decidedly not related to the topic at hand. It was a lot to think about, but Steve Rogers wasn’t about to flinch. Sharon, like anyone he’d ever felt a genuine set of honest, personal feeling for, simply deserved better than that. He couldn’t afford to buckle, not now. He just needed to get his mind wrapped around what the high road was in this situation, at least beyond the obvious one of ‘Be Supportive No Matter What. “I don’t know…” Steve replied warmly, making a playful remark about their own history in as light and non-abasing tone as he could. “You put up with me for quite awhile.” He knew, in his own way, he’d made her happy though. Much like he knew the punching was a sign of affection. Yes, there were moments where they both collided against forces that required them to rethink everything, but that was just the point. Sharon Carter could make Steve rethink just about any position he took. “I’ve seen what you can do when you decide to be stubborn. It’s why I’m not foolish enough to get in your way.” Not that Steve would have ever dreamed of it. “I don’t suppose I could trouble you for an introduction, when you’re ready? Or he is.” Because Steve could only assume that he’d been a topic of conversation and, like always, he was more than willing to put his own needs firmly at the back of his mind. Sharon was happy, that was what mattered. That was what had always mattered, even if Steve hadn’t been able to let it matter as much as it probably should have from time to time. “If he’s anything like me, I’ll bring an apple pie and a copy of ‘Of Mice and Men’.” Because Steve felt the need to illustrate his willingness to ease the tension off -- even if he wasn’t entirely joking. “Just -- stop for a minute, I -- “ Sharon started. He was laying it on a little thick, and all that meant to her was that this was as hard for him as it was for her. She got it. She did. How could she not? The last time they’d seen each other she’d literally made a joke about marriage and, as far as he knew, died in a goddamn explosion. To her credit, though, it was the second time he’d thought she’d died in an explosion -- the first being an LMD that had burned up because she’d needed to get away from him to go undercover -- so really, he should know better by now. Not to mention the fact that she was a SHIELD agent, and if Nick Fury was any example of what that meant, it was probable that the entire universe would die before she did. What was unfortunate, was the fact that none of this was going to get easier for them, and as sweet and supportive as he was trying to be, it almost hurt more than it helped. She knew that he was genuinely happy that she was. That’s how it had always worked for them, together or not, for the most part their happiness was always shared. When he hurt, she did, and it went both ways. She’d dragged him through guilt and depression over Bucky’s fate and when they’d discovered the truth about the Winter Soldier, and when he’d died -- when she thought she’d shot him -- she’d almost done herself in the same way. “It’s Steve Rogers.” She said finally. “I’m with -- He’s from this world. We worked together and knew each other for a year. He was seeing other people, Hell, for a while he was seeing Aunt Peggy, even, but it’s -- we got to know each other, we were friends and then something changed. Something just -- changed.” This one was going all the way in the back. All. The. Way. The symbiosis of their relationship was an undeniable facet of the sharp, unbreakable, diamond that was everything about them. Forged in ways few could imagine, Steve had never believed much could separate them. Even with each of them being respectively absent, even with each having mourned the other, in what Steve imagined, was a variety of colorful avenues, he’d never believe anything could break that bond. Like the one he had for Bucky, and Logan, he’d stand by Sharon through anything. Even if it hurt bad enough that Steve debated digging out a five dollar word, even if it was quite possibly one of the most surreal things he could have imagined her saying -- which was quite the statement by itself -- he’d manage. He always had. He always did. He always would. That didn’t mean it would was easy… ...But nothing worth fighting for ever was. “At least I can’t fault you for taste.” The joke was dry this time, and one of Steve’s hands slipped her own to reach for the beer. It was a stall, a way to keep his voice drowning and occupied while his mind rolled over the details. It wasn’t every day you found out your partner, a woman who you’d proposed to, who had a decidedly on again off again relationship with the land of the living, had taken up with an alternate reality version of who you were. It still wasn’t the worst news, at least it wasn’t someone Steve found… “You said you were happy…” Steve let his voice trail, releasing the beer and slipping his hand back into Sharon’s. “That’s what matters. If he…” Steve slipped on the pronoun, aware that he was talking about himself while, at the same time, talking about someone else entirely. Luckily this was not his first rodeo. “If he’s there for you, if you’re happy and well taken care of..” Steve lifted his hand again, holding a flat palm out to indicate his lack of intended offense. -- not that you need taking care of --” Even if sometimes you do. “ -- and that’s all I need to know. If you want to tell me more, if you want me to meet him --neither of which I would mind and both of which I would like -- then that’s a bridge we’ll cross.” Not letting go of her hand, Steve leaned back into the booth to think for a moment. “We’ve been through this before.” Steve finally added, resolute in his decision to stand by her as the best friend he’d always wanted to be. “Just promise me this is only the first of several cheese burgers, and I think we’ll be alright.” “I’m going to believe you.” She narrowed her eyes slightly, in jest, as though believing him was a difficult feat for her to accomplish, but she couldn’t deny the fact that she felt better, now that he knew. She felt better knowing he was committed to making this work and making their relationship, in whatever form it took, a good one. Sharon had complicated ties with a number of the men in her life. It sort of came, she supposed, it came with the territory. She was around a lot of passionate people, and she was one herself. Entanglements happened. But really, honestly, her connection with Steve had always been simple even when it wasn’t. She could look at him and know she loved him even when she hated everything he was doing and disagreed with optimism and shining, infuriating self-righteousness. She loved him when he was hers, and she loved him when he wasn’t. She kicked his shin lightly under the table. “But sure, Rogers, you eat as many burgers as you want.” Maybe she’d call up Nick after this and tell him that Steve was here. Swing by the Kamchatka Peninsula for a night cap once all was said and done and tell Fury that she was pretty sure they had their best man back. What she didn’t want to do was go back to the room she sometimes shared with the native Steve, not tonight, and going back to her empty apartment didn’t quite feel right either. But what was important, what was really important, was that right now she could believe Rogers. She could trust him to be as good and sturdy as she knew his was and would always be. She could trust that they would be just fine. “You say that like I might not be telling you the truth.” Steve was unabashedly honest, at least more often than not, and certainly in matters that carried as much weight as this one. Sharon knew that, undoubtedly, and this was just another means by which Steve had intended to prove that they would be just fine. The shape didn’t matter, the title didn’t matter. What mattered was the same thing that always mattered. Sharon was alive. Sharon was happy. That knowledge was enough for Steve to plant his feet and go forward. “I said ‘we’.” Steve added, picking his own burger back up with a smile to give himself a sizable bite and washing it down with what remained of his beer. “Assuming of course he’s alright with it.” Which, if this man was anything like him? Steve wouldn’t have been the least bit surprised if him and, well, other him, had to sit down and tell the man straight that Sharon was his, and no amount of pushing her back to Steve was going to do them any favors. He just hoped that not everyone was as right about him as they seemed to think when they claimed he was the most stubborn man alive. “Alright, well, now that we’ve dealt with our personal affairs…” Steve let his voice trail a final time, plucking the last of the fries from his plate with a rather thoughtful expression. “Any chance I can get the field notes on this situation? Obviously there’s several of me’s running around -- which, if you’ve got files, and don’t feel like it would be putting you in a compromising position, I would like to see. Walking in blind is one thing, walking in blind on myself? Something tells me none of the ‘I’s need that…” Assuming Sharon had files was about on par with assuming Steve was picking up the check in his mind. “Is there anything else you think I should know?” Because, really, when it came down to it? There was not one person, alive or dead, who Steve actually believed would answer that question to him and be telling the absolute truth…even if she did get semantic. “Well, there’s a few other people you’d know here. Pinky Pinkerton, for one. And there’s another me, a native to this place and her Aunt Peggy and Dum Dum Dugan are here too. As for the files, I can forward you everything I think is relevant, but there’s a few things happening right now that you should probably talk to Logan about. People have been developing superpowers, caused by white events which we think now were caused by the Celestials.” She had developed a power, actually. And Tony Stark had regained his ability to communicate with technology the way that he had when he’d been hopped up on Extremis. Her power, it wasn’t much and it really wasn’t something she wanted to get into with Steve right now. There would be time for that in the coming weeks, and if she could take the opportunity to move herself away from the central focus of this conversation at the moment, she would. Her power was, basically, that she could make herself invisible in darkness and shadow. She’d discovered it by accident, with her Steve in a dark room under conditions that didn’t exactly lend themselves well to disappearing. She’d only realised it was a power and not just the lack of light in the room because she was pretty damn well aware of how good Steve’s eyesight was. The jerk could dodge bullets because he could see them in the air, after all. A dimly lit room shouldn’t, under normal circumstance, cause him any problems. “And there is -- there is someone, actually, who’ll probably be glad you’re here.” She and Rikki had never quite gotten along. She’d tried a few times, but the teenager had seemed wary and distrustful of her, probably because the only time they’d ever really met before had been in the moments before Barnes had died. So she understood, and it wasn’t a relationship she was going to push for, but she knew how much she’d meant to Rogers, and how devastated he’d been when he lost her. It was only fair to know that now, he’d have another chance. “Rikki Barnes.” |