Perhaps somewhat surprisingly, it isn't until she's actually deep inside the belly of the rebuilt North Institute, surrounded by traitors and fascists, that she starts to think that maybe she's a little bit in over her head.

Not that it shows in her brisk walk, heels clicking efficiently against the gleaming floors that, as far as SHIELD knew, ought to have been shattered, covered in ash. "You've done a remarkable job, Doctor," she says, in Irma's cool, clipped German accent. She directs a glance toward Karpov, then another toward a glass-walled room filled with personnel in white lab coats. She recognizes one of them from the old photos she'd found in the file that hand changed everything, that sent her to Ohio with a half-baked plan bolstered by pure determination and ambition.

There's more here than just a burned out old foundation that's rotten. It's tied up with SHIELD, with the fire that ravaged this place back in the 90s... maybe even with Howard Stark and Hank Pym and the things they'd been working on before one died and the other was summarily swept out of the division he helped found. 

None of it shows on her face. Irma Kruhl is polite, aloof, distantly interested on a professional level. "One would never know this location had ever been anything other than an effectively running laboratory."

It's been a little over a month since Bucky brought her to that training space and told her he was making good on his promise; a little longer since she's met Ayo for an hour a day to spar and train and meditate and learn. In that time, Shuri's updated her suit and Bucky's prototype arm, and Nakia's successfully launched the first of her outreach centers in the place where a young N'Jadaka had once had his whole world shattered.

Ayo prefers to train with her either early in the morning or late in the cool of the evening. Today was the latter, and steam is lifting off Sharon's shoulders as she walks back from the Citadel, her hair a sweat-damp mess in a ponytail, her muscles aching pleasantly. 

She's back on top. Between Bucky and Ayo, she's faster now than she ever has been; more adaptive, more thoughtful about her approach. She still can't beat Bucky one on one, but Ayo had tested her against Aneka, another Dora, recently, and she'd more than held her own. She's flexible and strong and her cardio hasn't been this good in years.

More than that, she's happy, the way Bucky wanted her to be. She has some direction, and that's all she really needed. What she'll do with it is the next step, but she's not quite there yet. For now, she strolls down the path toward the hut by the lake where she's been more or less living with him, the sunset light just now dying from the sky. She's so lost in her thoughts it takes her a second even to realize that there's a buzzing coming from the pocket of her tote bag.

And it's not like she was expecting a call, anyway. Who would it even be from?

Three days.

That's all they end up with. Two mornings after she'd run into Bucky in the halls and learned he'd be going on the mission that killed him in her time, she's standing with Aunt Peggy and Stark and Colonel Phillips to bid the team farewell and good hunting.

Her hands are clasped so tight together the very bones and tendons ache, but she keeps her expression as neutral as she can. She and Bucky have said everything there is to say, and this moment was always going to come. All she can do now is hope that he's prepared, that he'll find a way around what destiny has in store for him, that her presence here has changed the course of the future just a little, just enough to save one life. 

She can't save everyone. She knows that all too well from a life spent as an agent of SHIELD. But surely, surely, she can save just this one.

There's no doubt that things have shifted, a little, since the day they spent tangled up together in that sun-dappled cottage, tucked away in the trees behind the nearby town. The other Howling Commandos have, seemingly by silent agreement, stopped flirting so outrageously with her, though she's caught Jim and Gabe giving Bucky more than one fondly exasperated glance. She still dances with all of them, and enjoys their company, but they yield the floor to Bucky at the end of the night, and he's the one who, as she said she wanted, walks her back to her tent. 

And then there are their rendezvous' out in the field, where she still checks, each night, for a portal opening in the air. It never comes, but she spends hours there with him, walking and laughing and dancing under the starlight, stealing every moment they can together.

Aunt Peggy says nothing, but Sharon knows she can tell things have changed. There's a worried frown that lives between her brows, but she doesn't forbid her niece to see Steve's best friend, knowing it would only backfire.

Other things change not at all... like the morning tests Howard still makes them do. They're nearing the end of the sequence today, and she lets go of Bucky when Howard tells her to, careful not to linger. It's difficult to say what Stark thinks of his findings; he mutters to himself and snaps at his assistants, but all she can glean from it is that the resonance is still fading at a regular rate from her cells.

But none of them know why.

There's nothing strange about Yvette Rheaume or the credentials she provides to Monsieur Lavigne when she arrives to replace Amelie. "Her mother is ill," Lavigne explains to the girl. "You will fill in for her duties until she returns, yes?"

Yes, of course. And it's a relief when the girl proves both capable and well-mannered; he simply cannot afford to force Herr Schneider to wait. If the facility were to cancel their monthly orders, he'd lose hundreds, thousands of francs in profit, money which assuages his guilt at assisting the enemy. He explains the process to the girl as they ride in a jeep towards the facility, and impresses on her the need for perfect discretion. "I will expect you to take clear and comprehensive notes," he reminds her. "We cannot miss any opportunity to re-supply."

"Yes, sir," she promises, and dutifully notes his instructions.

His ears are ringing by the time they reach the facility and Herr Schneider steps outside to greet them, his sharp eyes resting for a moment on Yvette. "Who is this lovely creature?" he asks, and Lavigne hastens to assure him of her loyalty and credentials. The German nods and politely ushers them inside. Lavigne is too relieved and too focused on the robust order to come to pay much mind to the way the man keeps half an eye on Yvette.

But she doesn't miss it. Not a single glance.

"I don't want to alarm anybody," Sharon says, her arms folded as she looks over her shoulder. "But that thing's glowing again."

"It's supposed to be glowing, Agent 13." Fury strolls up beside her, hands clasped behind his back, as she gives the thing in question a skeptical look. "That's what it does. It sits there and it glows. And it powers things."

"Okay, well, I don't like it." She stares at the blue cube, uncomfortably mesmerized by the slow pulse of its inner light. "It glows very aggressively. Seems like it's up to something, Nick."

"How could it be up to something?" he points out. "It's a cube."

She shakes her head, her lips thinning, but there's no good way to respond. It is a cube; it doesn't have a brain. But it still seems to be... waiting for something. She glowers at it. It pulses calmly back.

Nearby, the doctor lifts a hand. "We're ready," he calls, and Fury pats her on the shoulder and turns away. "Come on, 13," he tells her. "Leave the cube alone. Maybe it just doesn't like you."

"Maybe you – "

But that's as far as she gets before Dr. Selvig yelps and a cascade of alarms all begin blaring at once. Behind her, the cube pulses furiously, an aura of cold blue light expanding around it, throwing her into stark relief against it. Fury wheels around, and she can see his one eye opening wide, right before he reaches for her. "Carter!"

I told you so, she tries to say, but then the light swallows her and something grips her, hard, like gravity suddenly changed direction, flinging her backwards through a cacophony of blinding light. "Ow – "

She hits hard-packed dirt and grass and rolls with a series of violent thuds until her momentum is spent, leaving her flat on her back in a field, staring up at the sky.

It's full of stars. She's never seen a night so clear.

There are some trees that need to be cleared from the edge of the woods, near the path to the climbing rock, and even with the new arm, Bucky can't do it by himself.

Or, he shouldn't. She's actually pretty sure he could, and without too much difficulty either, but she'd still secured a promise that he wouldn't start until she got there, only to find, once she arrives, that she's beaten him to the punch. There's no one around in the cool dappled shade of the woods but her. He must have gotten held up coming back from one of the villages, she decides, and looks around, hands on her hips.

Bucky, with his super-soldier strength and vibranium arm prototype, might be able to start this on his own, but Sharon certainly can't. She squares up to one of the trees, eying its smooth bark. "You know," she muses, "back when I was training in Thailand, I spent a lot of time training on trees like you."

The tree doesn't respond, only shivers as Sharon throws a light punch, her knuckles nudging against the bark. She looks thoughtful, for a moment, then settles her weight into a fight stance.

A few moments later, the peaceful quiet of the little clearing is broken by the sound of knuckles and shins thudding against the tree trunk, and by Sharon's breath as it begins coming faster and faster.

They've all entered a kind of tense détente after the ill-advised dinner party. Tony throws himself into work, Sharon and Pepper mostly avoid each other, and Steve, Vision, and Nat continue with oversight duties.

And the thing is... Tony's working it out. 

Not a removal, exactly, but he's getting close, he'd told them, to at least blocking the commands. It's not perfect and it's not a permanent solution, but it's a step in the right direction. It's also a step in the direction of Tony needing to test the words on Bucky himself, and so Sharon and Steve are on extra high alert, keeping an eye out for any indication that Bucky's retreating into himself again. Sharon's mostly moved into the room they share in Steve's apartment for that very reason, though she still isn't wholly comfortable with being in Steve's space all the time.

He's away today, working with Sam and Rhodey on a veteran's outreach program, so it's Sharon who walks with Bucky through the halls of the compound towards Tony's rooms. "It's you and Vision with Tony today," she tells him, and glances across the distance they're careful to maintain when not alone behind closed doors.

"How are you feeling about everything?"

"I know what you're doing, you know," Sharon says, as she and Nat stroll over a bridge, making their way toward the Landungsbrücken. Evening is settling, cool and blue, over Hamburg, and they'd spent the day shopping and gossiping, then decided on a walk by the piers before finding a spot for dinner.

It's a blatant attempt by Nat to cheer her up, and it had worked a treat. She'd needed to get out of her apartment, out of the Center, out of Berlin for a little while; to stop stewing over being barred from Wakanda and trying to manage Ross's annoyance with Steve and Stark. 

She feels better than she has since before they first got the news about Lagos, and, judging by Nat's smiles and the mischievous sparkle in her eyes, she thinks her friend is feeling the same way. Which is why Sharon nudges her leg with a shopping bag and grins. "And I love you for it. This was a great idea."

She sleeps better than she'd thought she could and wakes up on instinct at her usual time, even without setting an alarm – but there's no work to get ready for, nowhere for her to go. Sharon sits for a long while with her coffee, sketching out plans for her day, the news a constant companion as she moves about the apartment.

Bucky will be back later, she knows. And she's sure he or Steve will let her know if they find anything, or if this Zemo makes a move.

But she can't sit and sulk in her apartment all day, and it's not as though she's confined, so she decides to take the day and run some errands she'd otherwise have put off until the weekend: go buy some fresh groceries, head to the stores for a few things she needs around the apartment.

It's not work. It's not what she wants to do. 

But at least it's something.