Steve’s words didn’t fall on deaf years, and Sharon nodded appreciatively, moving closer to him and trying not to close herself off or get defensive. She wanted to talk, she’d already started to, but it wasn’t easy to keep the momentum going. Particularly when she knew there were things she’d have to explain that she really didn’t want to get into. Carter put her hand on Steve’s chest, gripping his shirt and leaning in to kiss Steve’s collarbone.
“I was held.” She said, whispering against his chest. It was so hard to say because it was so hard to admit. Sharon shifted on the bed and then moved away to place her beer on the floor before crawling back over to Rogers and leaning in against him. She wiped her eyes with the back of her sleeve and put her head down on Steve’s shoulder so she wouldn’t have to look at him as she spoke.
“Neither Zola or I were killed in the explosion, he found me and he took me back to the base he was building and I was -- time, it moves differently in that dimension, you understand. Steve, when he went missing, he was only gone for a week, but for him it was four, maybe six years? Well, I was there -- at Zola’s base, for something closer to twenty. I never thought I’d get out, I never thought I’d go home.”
And like she and Nick had talked about earlier, there were times when she wasn’t sure she wanted to survive to go home. That she knew she’d be too changed to ever really go back. She pursed her lips and looked at Steve. “It was twenty years.”