'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...
The door to Sharon's secret hideaway opens, and she shoves her keys into her pockets. We follow behind her, watching our backs. The entire car journey here, I was looking out of the windows, terrified that one of the guards was following us. My ears pricked up when I saw a car following us, but it ended up being a shit driver, who had clearly lost his way. Despite the sigh I let out, I was still vigilant.
Like right now, as Sharon walks into her living room, but doesn't say a word to us. The last time I saw her, she was getting Steve's shield out of the boot of her car and kissing him like Sam, Bucky, and I wasn't in the car watching. To be fair to her, she probably didn't realise us until it was too late. I liked her until I heard she went A-Wall out of nowhere, and I thought she had gone against the Government. Now, I know I'm not one to talk, but you have to have a good reason to go against the Government. If not, then you're just stupid.
But, now that I realize she did it to not get arrested for helping us when we had warrants over our heads, I don't judge her. I just don't trust her. How can I? I was programmed to have trust issues. And, why did she save us? Why would she want to help us? Especially when we had Zemo. Oh, god, I completely forgot about Zemo. We need to get that bastard back. And fast.
Her living room is huge, the dark blue walls decorated with huge and modern paintings. Famous and expensive ones, at that. She takes a seat on the L-shaped couch, slouching her posture and leaning her arm on the back. I stand awkwardly as she mentions for Sam to get himself a drink of whiskey and get her one too. Bucky looks uncomfortable too, but not as much as me as I notice Sahron looking at everyone when she talks, but me.
"Look, we don't have much time, so can we cut straight to the chase?" Sam takes a sip of his whiskey. "We need your help, Sharon."
"No," She has no expression.
"No?" Sam is taken aback.
"That's what I said." Sharon stands from the couch.
"Why? You helped us back there at the club."
"Call it instinct. I didn't want Shelby to splatter your blood on those walls. But, I am saying no now. I shouldn't have even brought you here."
"But, you did." Sam takes a step towards her. "Why?"
"I don't know." She looks over at Bucky.
He falls under her gaze, his awkward expression turning into a plea for the world to open up and swallow him whole. I would help him if I didn't want to slap Sharon across the face for even thinking she could have him. I've never been an overly jealous person, but Bucky just brings it out of me. I want to take a step forward, but instead, I glare at her. But, her eyes still don't ever meet mine. I wonder why?
"Sharon," Sam grabs her shoulders. "Why can't you help us?"
"It's not that I can't, it's that I won't." She finally looks at me. "I know about Peggy."
Now it's my turn to want the world to swallow me up. Sharon has an unreadable expression on her face, but I think it's a mixture of anger and distaste. My face and body soften at her confession, and I take that step forward. I'm done with hiding behind a wall. I want to face my demons face first. I guess this could be Dr Raynor's influence on me finally kicking in.
"I'm so sorry, Sharon. I know she was family." I frown. "But, you must know, it wasn't by choice. I would never want to intentionally hurt Peggy. She was my best friend, I love her."
Sharon white knuckles the glass before tossing it towards me. I grab it before it can hit me in the face, and I see Bucky flinch in the corner of my eye. I keep my expression emotionless to not anger her further, but it seems that only pissed her off more. She charges for me, getting right in my face. Some of her spit flies on my face as she seeths, trying to keep herself under check, but failing miserably. I'm trying to give her the benefit of the doubt and remind myself that if someone did this to anyone that I love, they would probably be dead on the ground by now.
"Fuck you! You don't deserve to love her!" She shouts.
I let her scream until her throat is dry, and even after that. Until I can see that she is somewhat calm, I take a step back, giving me enough room to look at her fully. She is tense all over, and still white-knuckling the air. Sam walks over, having had enough of the situation. When he takes her away, Bucky holds me into a side hug, kissing my temple. Sam has Sharon on the other side of the room, silently talking to her. He turns to face Bucky and me.
"Why don't you two go get cleaned up? You're still in your tactical gear." Sam suggests.
Bucky nods his head, walking us down the only hallway, and into the first room. Luckily, it is a bedroom, with very little decor or life. I'm assuming this is the spare bedroom. Bucky sits me on the end of the bed and walks over to the closet. He pulls out a long T-shirt and a pair of cotton shorts. Placing them beside me on the bed, he kisses the crown of my head and heads back to get himself some clothes. I silently change out of my tight outfit and into the big and comfortable pyjamas. Bucky does the same and into a pair of red and black checkered pants and a white tank top. He sits down beside me on the bed, pulling me to place my head sideways on his lap. I do so, and he plays with my hair, waiting for me to speak.
"I hate it," I finally say. "I hate that no matter what I do or how hard I try, I will always be known as Morana. I just can't get away from her."
"I know how you feel, baby." But," He lifts my head to look at him. "We will get through this together. I promise."
He pulls me into a kiss, it lasting a few seconds until I smile into it, and he breaks away, looking at me with nothing but love. I reciprocate the expression with ease, it is stained on my face. And I love it. I love that I am so unconditionally in love with him that without having to try, I look at him and see my world. His eyes read the same as mine, and I love it. He takes my hand, pulling me to stand. His hold on me doesn't falter as we walk out of the room and down back into the living room. We wait and listen out for any shouting, but we hear nothing. So, we cautiously walk into the room again, and see Sharon a lot more calm than before we left, and sitting on the couch again, another whiskey in her hand. Sam looks exhausted and walks past us without saying a word to get changed out of his pimps outfit.
"So, I will put all of that behind me and help you. But, I need you to know that I still don't like you for what you did to her." Sharon looks at us.
"I know, but thank you for helping us." I smile as best as I can.
