'𝐈 𝐖𝐈𝐒𝐇 𝐈 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐋𝐃 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐄, 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐘𝐎𝐔.'
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Even if every memory from 1917 comes roaring back to you, being a former Hydra assassin means you can never get a break. Since Beverly is on a mission of redemption, she respo...
It's been a mere few seconds since I took my eyes off, Steve. No, I forced my eyes off him. Everyone is standing in the lab, discussing a plan. A few people are shouting and swearing, getting clearly angry that we are getting nowhere with this. But, I can't hear any of their words. My mind is so clouded with guilt that it is blocking out the voices around me.
I can't stop my mind from remembering Peggy. The Peggy I met in the alleyway in Brooklyn. The Peggy I trained with in the SHIELD compound. The Peggy I called my sister. The Peggy I killed. And, then my mind swarms with ideas of how it is going to go when I tell Steve. Because I have to tell him. He deserves to know.
Suddenly, I feel eyes on me, turning my head in that direction. I see Wanda looking at me, searching for the reason I am so quiet. Usually, I don't speak in a conversation. I'm just a presence in the room, but, I've gotten better. Now, I can contribute. If I'm comfortable with the person, I see segments of the old me when I talk. She notices my silence and absence in the room, and it worries me what she is going to do next.
"Can you guys give me a minute with Beverly?" Wanda requests.
No one argues against her, standing up and leaving the room. Before Bucky leaves, he looks down at me worriedly. I smile at him, trying to persuade him that I'm fine, but it doesn't reach my eyes. It takes him some inner fighting to leave the room, but when he does, Wanda scraps a chair across the room and sits in front of me.
"What are you going to do about this?" She asks.
"I'm not sure." I lie.
"Look, I know about Peggy. Steve told us about her. He went to a funeral when he came out of the ice, but there wasn't a body. He needs that closure to know what happened to her."
"I know." I sigh.
"You can do this." She grabs my hands.
"I need to come clean," I mumble to myself.
Nerves build in my stomach, making bile rise to my throat. I bite it down, swallowing any and all nerves. I know I need to do this. I can't back down. I just know that this isn't going to go well. Hell, I would freak out if someone told me this about Bucky. It would break me. I don't think I could go on without him. I just know Steve is going to hate me.
"Okay. Okay, I'm going to do this."
Wanda smiles, her hold on my hands tightening as she is clearly happy with my decision. She guides me out of the lab and down the hallway, following the small chatter. We walk into the living room and make everyone silent when they notice our presence. They seem nervous and unsure of what I and Wanda were talking about, but I can only focus on Steve. He is sitting next to Bucky, who is nervously smiling at me. I smile back but then look at Steve, my eyes burrowing into his own.
"Steve, can I talk to you outside?" I ask.
"Uh, yeah. Sure." He agrees, standing up.
We walk out of the room, ignoring all the whispering as we do. I shut the door behind me, walking down the hallway, away from prying ears. I know I need to tell Steve, but I don't need the entire team to know that I'm a monster. Steve stands nervously, looking down at me.
"I want to say something, and I know you don't owe me anything, but please just let me say it. I need to get this out." I request.
"Okay." He says, nervously.
"Wanda told me that after you got out of the ice, you went to Peggy's funeral. But, they didn't have her body." I stutter. "I don't know where it is exactly, but I know what happened to her."
"Beverly, what's going on?" He interrupts, clearly upset that I'm bringing up Peggy.
"Me."
"You?"
"I did it," I whisper. "I killed her."
The silence is painfully loud. Steve doesn't speak. He swallows and looks down at the floor, avoiding eye contact. His hand forms into a fist, his knuckles turning white. Any words get stuck in my throat, making me choke on them. Steve's lips part, but it takes him a few seconds until words come out.
"You killed her?"
"Yes, Steve." I reach to grab his hand.
He sees the action, and slaps my hand away, stepping back. I recoil my hand, placing them by my side. It hurts, but I understand why he did it. He doesn't touch, look or talk to me. It brings tears to my eyes, but I push them back. I don't deserve to cry right now. This isn't about me.
"You did this!" He glares at me. "You took her way from me! My one chance at happiness! Gone! Because of you!"
"I swear to you, I didn't want to." I sob.
"No, it just happened. Everything bad happens to you, doesn't it." He spits.
"No. I didn't know it was her, they..."
"I don't want to hear it." He tries to walk away.
"Steve." I cry after him. "Please, stop."
"Why?" He turns around. "So you can play the victim and brainwash me into believing you?"
"No, I..."
"You did this to me!" He shouts.
"I didn't want to!" Anger builds at my fingertips. "Do you think I wanted to murder my best friend? My sister?"
"I don't know you anymore."
"This is what they do! HYDRA and The Red Room! They fuck us up and make us do shit we don't want to just to survive." I scream, tears streaming down my face.
"You didn't have to kill her!"
I can't argue with that. A part of me convinces myself that I did what I had to to get out of that place alive. But a larger voice screams at me, shutting out that voice, telling me that I am a monster. That I killed an innocent woman. That I cause havoc wherever I go. That Beverly killed Peggy, not Morana. Which isn't entirely wrong. But, I've gotten better at defending myself against that voice. I've had enough pain to last two lifetimes.
"I promise you, I didn't know it was her. I was blindfolded and we started fighting each other. When I realised what I did, I hated myself." I plead.
"Well, that makes two of us." He whispers.
My body stiffens at his words, taking a step back from him. I can't even look into his eyes. Never, in my entire life did I ever think that I would hear Steve, my brother, tell me that he hates me. The thought brings more tears into my eyes, the sobs choked in my throat. He looks up, but not into my eyes. He looks behind me, anger flaring in his eyes.
"I can't even look at you right now." He stomps away.
Tears stream down my face, my body sagging with the heaviness of my shoulders. I jolt uncontrollably as I sob, the tears mixing with my clothes as they run down my neck and seep into the material of my shirt. My feet carry me as I turn around to walk away, but when I do, I sigh.
The entire team is standing at the end of the hallway.
