[ WWII AU ] a ghost story
May. 6th, 2023 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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."
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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Date: 2023-05-14 11:34 pm (UTC)From what Sam had said, it's about an hour, maybe an hour and a half since Sharon had been discharged from the hospital, but when Nat swings by his house to check in, she's not there.
Stifling her concern for the moment, Nat backtracks to Sharon's apartment. They really have to get her a new phone, she decides, as she climbs the stairs and knocks on her door.
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:40 pm (UTC)This time, when a knock sounds on her door, she staggers upright and almost runs over to yank it open, hoping –
But it isn't him. It's Nat, looking clean and put-together despite the chaos of the day and night, and Sharon wipes furtively at her eyes, holds the door open. "Hey."
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:46 pm (UTC)"Hey," Nat says, as she steps into the apartment. She waits for Sharon to shut the door behind her, then pulls her friend into a fiercely comforting embrace.
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:48 pm (UTC)Not that she lets go. She doesn't want to.
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:51 pm (UTC)"Come on. Curl up on the couch. I'll put some coffee on, unless you'd rather something stronger."
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:53 pm (UTC)It's the only goal she's got. She needs to keep moving forward. Sharon wipes at her eyes again and takes a deep breath. "Or maybe I'd take you up on that something stronger."
Scotch had helped, when she'd been in the first throes of her despair, with Steve down in Virginia. Does she even have any, here?
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:56 pm (UTC)She hopes she doesn't have to point out that she doesn't have any intention of leaving Sharon alone right now.
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Date: 2023-05-14 11:59 pm (UTC)"Let's not have to try and figure out Sam's coffeemaker in the middle of the night."
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:04 am (UTC)Sharon might feel better with a second or two to compose herself further, after all.
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:08 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-05-15 12:14 am (UTC)Well, without much comment, anyway. "Did they give you anything at the hospital that you're supposed to be taking around now?" Or at all. She bets it'll be 'at all,' if Sharon's trying to stay as alert as she suspects.
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:18 am (UTC)And look at that: she has a glass of water in her hand. Sharon blinks at it for a second, then lifts it for a deep swallow before she remembers something else and lowers it once more. "How're you feeling?" she asks, concerned. "Those Bites of yours pack a punch."
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:22 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-05-15 12:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-05-15 12:30 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-05-15 12:32 am (UTC)They're such simple touches, but they're almost enough to break down again. Her throat closes at the touch of her friend's hand, at her gentle question. She can't quite say the words, so she only shakes her head instead, and lifts the hand holding her glass so she can wipe at her eyes once more with her wrist.
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:43 am (UTC)She offers both as she sits back down beside her friend, and there's understanding in her glance.
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:48 am (UTC)Once it's gone cold, she sets the damp towel aside and gently blots her face dry with the other. When she lifts her glance back up to Nat, her eyes are still sore and red, but her face is a little less flushed, and the streaks of her tears are gone.
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:55 am (UTC)"So," she says, gently. "Want to talk about it?"
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Date: 2023-05-15 12:59 am (UTC)She wraps her hands around the coffee mug, but doesn't lift it for a sip. "Most of it's classified to hell and back... or was," she realizes. "I guess at least some of it, at least, is out there now, along with everything else."
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Date: 2023-05-15 01:00 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2023-05-15 01:03 am (UTC)And Steve was right. SHIELD couldn't exist, any longer. Not after everything. So maybe it's a moot point.
She takes a deep breath and meets Nat's gaze. "I know you were working at the time. But did you know I was... gone... when everything happened in New York?"
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Date: 2023-05-15 01:06 am (UTC)"I knew you were working with Selvik and the Pegasus team," she says. "I thought you were involved in the aftermath and cleanup out there."
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Date: 2023-05-15 01:16 am (UTC)In her room, she carefully doesn't look at the ceramic lamp as she digs out her laptop. Carrying the computer back to the living room, she curls up once more on the end of the couch and flips open her screen, navigating with the ease of long practice through her firewalls and passcodes until she reaches her secured files, speaking as she works. "The damn cube lit up while I was standing next to it. It opened a portal and pulled me through."
For a moment, she stops, her eyes on the picture she'd pulled up. It's an effort to pull her glance away, but she manages it, even if she doesn't turn her laptop for Nat to see yet. "To France, 1944."
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Date: 2023-05-15 01:21 am (UTC)"I really hate that cube," she murmurs, after a second, and makes herself take a swallow of coffee. "That must have been quite a surprise for everyone."
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