The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 41

She would tell him once they made it through this. And if he was the man she was certain he was? He would understand...

...she hoped.

Not that the thought helped lessen the sharp knots of guilt gnawing away in the pit of her stomach.

Sometimes she hated how easy it was to fall back on reason at the expense of her personal feelings...

...but it had to be done.

Next to her Steve shifted, looking to her after similarly watching his friend disappear downstairs.

"How did it go?" he asked gently. Nadine looked up at him, her heart nearly skipping a beat at the genuine concern written on his face.

"I—it was..." but she faltered then, unable to wholly contain her astonishment that it had been..."good." Only for a small smile to quirk at her lips, earning a curious expression from Steve. "I'm not even entirely sure what I expected," she said after a heartbeat's hesitation as she searched for the words she wanted. "But it wasn't... He doesn't..." she faltered again, her throat threatening to close with a resurgence of raw emotion. She nearly jumped at the feel of his fingers smoothing down her arm to enclose her hand with his. Instinctively, she squeezed his fingers, grateful for the comfort it offered. Her breath caught as she met his eye, again, taking in the discerning light in his ocean-hued eyes.

"He doesn't blame you," Steve said knowingly, completing the thought she hadn't quite been able to vocalize past the lump in her throat. Mutely she nodded, still truthfully shocked. She really had expected...

"And Nina?" She froze then at Steve's next soft-spoken question. There was no mistaking what he meant. She glanced impulsively over to the stairwell Barnes had disappeared down. "How did he take it?" She swallowed thickly, unable to meet his eye. But she could easily imagine the concerned look that was likely overtaking his features the longer she didn't answer. She could practically feel it. She sighed heavily, the weariness that her conversation with Barnes had left her weighing all the heavier as her guilt thickened.

"I—I didn't tell him..." she finally admitted when the silence grew too oppressive to bear. She barely restrained a flinch as Steve stiffened next to her.

"I—Nadine, why not?" The confusion—the trace of accusation—in his voice stung. Instinctively, Nadine began to lean away at the murmured question, but his hold on her hand held her in place. And not just because it physically held her in place; in that moment she craved the comfort of the contact. Inhaling a slow, bolstering breath—not that it truly helped—she glanced up to Steve.

"I couldn't," she confessed, projecting as much confidence as she could into her voice. It wasn't much. Immediately Steve was opening his mouth to object, but Nadine continued before he could, finally pulling free of his hold to lay a restraining hand on his arm even as her voice turned involuntarily sad, "not yet. Not now." He looked down at her with confusion, her tone visibly giving him pause. She sighed again, looking aimlessly around the former break-room as she struggled to find the right way to explain before her gaze settled automatically on the doorway Barnes had disappeared through.

"It's not really the best time, Steve," she said softly, unable to make herself care in that moment how weary—and how troubled—she sounded. "With what we're about to go up against? Who we're facing? Can you honestly say you wouldn't be distracted if, in the hours before, you were to find out you had a daughter that had been kept from you for eighteen years? To protect her from you?" Her voice threatened to break then, forcing her to pause long enough to steady herself. A long breath later she continued, tone brisk for all that it was resigned as she forced herself to meet his eye. "No, you'd barely be able to think straight. And he's still fighting everything they did to his mind on top of it.