[ WWII AU ] a ghost story

[from_the_outside]

It's been almost two years since she's been home, and little by little, the grief has gotten easier to live with.

It hasn't gone away. But she's able to focus on her job, watch movies, chat with friends, sleep most nights. She still dreams about him, but the dreams are tinged with wistful longing and only sometimes does she wake up with tears on her cheeks. She can't have his picture out in this apartment, Kate's apartment, but it's safe in the mountain house, along with his last letter to her, and she has a scan on her phone to look at when the long day is over and she's in bed, the stars from the lamp he'd given her filling her dark room.

Steve has helped, more than she could ever explain, and she hopes she's helped him in return. Aside from a few deeply classified missions here and there, they haven't worked together all that much, but she still sees him almost every day. In the halls, she's undercover as his mild-mannered neighbor, Kate, but in her secure apartment they can talk over anything, everything.

And it works. Every day is a little easier. They lean on each other when they need to, and they spend hours remembering and reminiscing about Bucky, talking shop, chatting about how Steve's fitting into the future. It's nice. She still misses Bucky, an ache that never really goes away, but they can both breathe through it, work through it, live through it.

She's on her way up from the basement laundry machines when she hears a familiar step in the hall, and has to smile to herself – first her own, then Kate's sweeter, more open one. "Hey, neighbor."

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[marvel_npc]

"Uh-huh." Grief weighs heavy in his chest, the same way he thinks it does in hers. It brings back a memory, and he lets the words come unthinking.

"I tried to push him away once, you know." He glances at her face, then looks back out at the water. "After my mother died."

[from_the_outside]

As she watches him, as he speaks, something complex and cracked open runs over her face before she shoves it away again.

But it leaves a bruise behind. Or maybe that's just her aching heart and sore chest. "Somehow I think that didn't fly with him."

She gives him a small, sad smile. "Right?"

[marvel_npc]

He nods. "I told him I could get by on my own. He just smiled, and said I didn't have to. That he was with me to the end of the line."

Steve looks away from the water below the dam and holds her gaze. "You don't have to, either. I know how much you're hurting right now. Who better?"

[from_the_outside]

Every now and again, she prods at her grief, looking to see if the oceanic swells of it have abated. It hasn't lessened with time, exactly, but it's grown more quiet. Quiet enough that she'd almost forgotten what it felt like to drown in it.

Now it rises up again, lashing with hurricane force, and she swallows, hard, her arms tightening. To the end of the line. And he had been... or so they'd thought. "I know you do."

Every word fights her. She tugs each one out, stubbornly determined, even as they stick like the tape that had been over her mouth. "But if I let myself think about it, I – "

She breaks off there, choked, and breathes for a moment longer before looking back at him. "I can't fall apart. Not yet."

[marvel_npc]

"Okay. But when the time comes." Steve rests his hands lightly on her upper arms, not wanting to pull her into an embrace against her will in light of what she's just said, but wanting her to know he's here.

His glance catches on the marks on her face, and sorrow fills his eyes. He can't imagine any circumstance under which Bucky would ever, ever have done such a thing, if he were himself.

Of course, he'd never imagined his best friend shooting him, either.

"We'll get him back," he murmurs. "He's in there somewhere. We'll help him find his way out."

[from_the_outside]

He looks her over and his eyes fill with so much sadness that she can't help herself, she has to step in to put her arms around him – carefully, not wanting to hurt him or press against his wounds. "Yes, we will," she promises, low but fierce.

When she pulls back, she reaches up to hold his head in her hands, her fingers against the back of his neck. "I can't worry about me right now, so let me worry about you, okay?"

Her smile is small, but real. "You watch my back and I'll watch yours."

[marvel_npc]

“Deal.” He bends his neck under her fingers, tipping his forehead against hers. The last two years have given him a level of ease with her that he hasn’t had with anyone else but Bucky, and right now they both need that.

[from_the_outside]

She can't imagine the last two years without Steve, and the thought of the last twenty-four hours without him strikes a chill deep into her bones. His forehead against hers helps her relax, just a little, and she breathes a bit more easily.

"After," she murmurs. "We can talk about it all after. I'll bring the Scotch. But until then..."

She shakes her head gently against him. "I'm sorry, too, Steve."

[marvel_npc]

His breath shudders deep in his chest, a tremor running through him. "Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky," he whispers. "The way he looked at me just now...."

The words refuse to come, threatening to choke him. He swallows, hard.

"We'll get him back."

They have to.

[from_the_outside]

"I know," she says, helpless in the face of his agony and her own. All the times Bucky looked at her like she was the center of the world, with love and affection and humor and so much more – how he knew her better than anyone ever had – and somehow, he still could stare at her with that blank, bewildered expression.

"I know. We will, I promise."

[marvel_npc]

"We will." He puts every bit of certainty into it, leaving no room for doubt. They will, because the alternative is unthinkable.

"You sure you don't want me to come with you to get Sitwell?"

[from_the_outside]

"I'm sure that I don't want you to heal up around those bullets and make it harder to get them out."

She puts a little more strength into her smile. "Nat and Sam and I can handle Sitwell. He's a coward."

[marvel_npc]

It's probably too late for that, but there's no point in making her feel worse by saying it.

"Okay. Go get him," he says, instead. "And then we'll clean house."

[from_the_outside]

"You got it, Cap."

She steps back and catches his hand in hers, then gives a light tug. "Come on. Let's get you back in, and then we'll head out."

[marvel_npc]

* * * * *

He prides himself on being a man who's not easily rattled. You don't get to where he has in SHIELD without having some aplomb in handling the unexpected, and you certainly don't rise among HYDRA's ranks if you let every little thing get to you.

Still, Jasper Sitwell has to admit that the last few days have been a little stressful. Not that he's going to let anyone see that. Just like he hadn't let himself show a flicker of reaction when watching Secretary Pierce handle the asset.

He hadn't known anyone could scream quite like that. He's surprised the asset hadn't lost his voice long ago. Maybe that's why he rarely speaks.

It doesn't matter. They're back on track, with only a slight hitch. Rogers and Romanoff may still be in the wind, but the work goes on, and soon the Insight helicarriers will be in the air, and then it won't matter what Captain America thinks or says or does, for the few moments that he's still walking around before he ends up relegated to the annals of history where he should have stayed.

He smiles at the senator and waves him off down the steps. Stern's a useful man to know, and it never hurts to keep all the connections properly in play.

[from_the_outside]

The Winter Soldier still has her phone. She accepts a burner from Hill, settles onto the back of Steve's bike with Nat at the helm, and hangs on as they speed back into the city, Sam soaring overhead.

She and Nat are used to moving around undercover. Sam's a little less comfortable with it, but a pair of sunglasses and a newspaper and he manages to relax at the café table where they put him. Once everyone's set, Sharon dials Sitwell's number from the burner, and brings the phone to her ear to wait.

[marvel_npc]

He pulls his phone from inside his jacket as it starts to ring and frowns at the screen, which is showing an unknown number. How whoever it is got his number is a question for another day, if it's not someone authorized. He flicks the accept icon and raises it to his ear so no one else can overhear.

"Yes?"

[from_the_outside]

"Agent Sitwell."

A bitter taste floods her mouth, but she keeps her tone professional. "This is Agent Thirteen, reporting in."

[marvel_npc]

Surprise rockets through him. He hadn't realized she'd survived that mess at the memorial. "Agent Thirteen. I hope you have some good news for me."

[from_the_outside]

"I do," she assures him. "But I'm under the radar right now. Can you meet me?"

[marvel_npc]

"I'm a busy man, Agent. What do you mean, you're under the radar?"

Her record has her as diligent, a rules-follower, deeply loyal to SHIELD, and highly skilled. It makes sense for her to be staying under cover if she's trying to avoid being executed or kidnapped again, if the asset were to make another try, but he's not supposed to be aware of that.

[from_the_outside]

"I mean I have access to Captain Rogers, and I'm trying to maintain it without him getting suspicious."

Her jaw tightens, but she has this one card left to play, her ace up the sleeve. "Hail HYDRA."

[marvel_npc]

He nearly jerks to a stop, and waves for the other agents to go on ahead, signaling that he'll catch up.

"You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Thirteen?" he murmurs. "Okay. I'm listening."

Bringing Rogers in would be a coup the likes of which he hasn't had in a while, especially in light of STRIKE's failure to capture him multiple times now, not to mention the asset.

[from_the_outside]

She's not sure she'll ever wash the slime of those words out of her mouth. There's nothing to do but power through. "Look to your left."

When he does, she catches his glance and nods at him. "Start walking. I'll meet you at the bottom of the stairs and bring you to a secure location."

[marvel_npc]

He doesn't see any sign of Rogers in the area; just other people having lunch, talking on phones, reading the newspaper. No one seems to be paying attention to him, much less her. She must have sneaked away on some errand and gotten clear, but she's right that they'll be noticed if they're out in the open for long.

Sitwell nods back and starts down the stairs as he disconnects the call and puts his phone away.