AGENT 13 [Sharon Carter] (agent13) wrote in thedoorway, @ 2015-01-22 21:53:00 |
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She stood at the top of the stairs, outside of Steve's Brooklyn apartment. She had a pack of six beer cans, balanced against her knee as she tried to decide what to do next. She'd brought it up with Nick already but she knew that Steve was really the person she needed to talk to. Sharon had waited all day, trying to work out for herself what everything meant and how she felt about it. Years, decades chained up in a small room, eating next to nothing and scratching the days as they past into markers on the wall. She didn't know how accurate it was. There were no windows, no way to tell how the time past. She could remember all of it, the smell of the place, the pain in her arms, held above her head, the thickness of the callouses she'd developed on her wrists as protection against the chains. She ran a hand through her hair, shaking it out and looking up at the street lamps. It was cold enough that she could see her breath, but she didn't mind it. Her mind was elsewhere. But it wasn't with Zola, it wasn't in that room. She was thinking about Steve, Steve as he walked down the plane ramp with his cane. Older, tired, but not that much different that how she remembered him. He thought she was dead, and she could see it in his eyes that she, standing in front of him. She was a miracle. Sam Wilson, taking over for Captain America. Tony, running west. Turning into some sort of shadow of himself. Thor without his hammer, and Nick -- Nick. It really was the end of the old guard. Everything was changing, and she was here. A passive witness to the changes of her world. It felt -- it might not be dark here, it might not be a cage, but maybe it was a prison. Something the tesseract had built, an illusion. Maybe none of this was real. It felt perfect enough to be -- to be something to be afraid of. Carter straightened up, and for just a moment thought about just walking away. She could hail a cab, go home and not tell Steve about any of this. He had his own stuff to work through, with Bucky -- with Peggy, now, showing up again. He didn't need to help her work through all of this crap in her head. She pulled a beer from the plastic and slid the other five onto her wrist like a bracelet. She opened it up and took a drink, before stepping up to the door and knocking. It was hard, it was always hard for them. But she loved him, and she wasn't going to run away from that. Not this time. |