On Va Voir

Chapter 4: Barbershop Quartet 2.0

"Hey man, what's up?"

You, Steve, and Nat were lined up at the back door of the house of a person Steve knew he could trust. You held a ripped piece of cloth to your forehead while all of you looked like you had just been through hell. Dirt stained clothes, partially singed and bloodied. You had to lean against Steve for support because Natasha was herself a bit too banged up to hold you.

The past few hours were blurry, you remembered waking up in an unfamiliar car, Steve was driving and Natasha was in the back with you, waiting for you to wake up. The fall was bad, your aching body told you as much, how you made it out alive you had no clue, but here you were.

"I'm sorry about this," Steve said quietly. "We just need a place to lay low."

"Everyone we know is trying to kill us," Natasha added.

"And everyone we don't know,"

The man, who Steve had told you was named Sam Wilson, stepped aside from his door to allow you all space to walk in.

"Not everyone."

—

Sam had led you Steve and Nat to the guest room where you were all cleaning up, preparing yourselves for whatever was about to come.

You sat on the floor, back against the wall, tired and sore as all hell wondering if maybe Zola was right. But not just for Steve, for you too. You had been working for HYDRA all this time, did your life really amount to nothing.

While Steve came out of the washroom Natasha headed downstairs and muttered something about checking if Sam needed help.

He noticed you staring sadly into space and came to sit down across from you, his back resting on the bed frame.

"You okay?" he asked softly and you let out a short breath of air from your nose, shrugging your shoulders, avoiding making eye contact with him. Steve just had those kind of eyes that if you stared into them you'd want to tell them everything. On multiple occasions you had found yourself revealing maybe a bit more information than you had intended all because of those damn eyes, it wasn't something you were unfamiliar with.

"Just sore, my head hurts a bit too, probably concussed."

"That was really amazing," he said. "What you did. You took one for the team, but if you for a second think I don't notice something else is wrong you're sorely mistaken (L/N)," he gave you a look, trying to coerce you into saying something.

You shook your head and used the wet towel you had in your hands to continue wiping away the dirt from your arms. "I think Zola's right," you said quietly.

"About what?" Steve asked concernedly.

"I-I know he was talking about you, but my whole life I've been a SHIELD agent. It's what I know, it's what I remember, it's who I am. I brought in people, helped people like Natasha, made them think they were going straight when in actuality we were all just unknowingly fighting for HYDRA." you explained. "My entire life isn't worth a damn penny."

"Don't say that," Steve frowned. "It's worth all the much more now (Y/N), if all you know is SHIELD then we have an advantage. You know how they think, you're the best person we have to stop them." he countered.

"It doesn't feel right Steve," you insisted, shaking your head. "It felt wrong since the day Fury died, even before we knew, I had a sinking feeling in my gut. And now I know why," you bit your lip.

"Why?" he pressed.

"Because I don't know what I am without my title. I don't know who I am if I'm not an agent," you whispered and sniffed, wiping your nose on your sleeve.