Chapter Text
When Steve Rogers stepped onto that platform, he had every intention of leaving everyone behind.
The sharp pain in the pit of his stomach had been constant since the snap. It lived within him, a reminder of his failures and of the broken promises he couldn't keep to the people he loved. It followed him until the final battle, and even then, it clawed and fought to surface--to distract him.
Steve wasn't deterred though, because they finally had a chance to make things right. There was hope despite living in a state of despair and guilt the last five years. They were going to win.
And they did.
But they also didn't.
The clenching didn't disappear. Instead, it continued, mocking him and further throwing him out of his element.
He paid tribute to Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff. It was a send off. He knew there was no battle fought without casualties. He lived in a time of war, of endless war, and Steve knew this more than anyone.
But he hadn't anticipated that this loss would impact him the way that it did.
His life wasn’t perfect. It wasn’t normal by any means, which was ironic considering that once, a long time ago, he wanted to be anything but ordinary. That was stretching it though. What he wanted was to serve his country and make a difference, and when that was done…
Yes, Steve knew why he couldn’t sit still, knew why he wanted to be the one to return those stones.
It was because he'd lost everything, his comrades, his home, hope...and it was because he saw her from behind those shades.
He couldn't remember the last time he saw her that way. Years ago perhaps, but it still stung, tore at him, and made him crumble in ways he thought he couldn't feel anymore. Not after Thanos, not after losing so many people.
Steve always considered himself a man out of his time, a person who never adapted to the twenty-first century and was wronged in every way possible. He felt robbed. Fate was cruel to him that way. It took his future with Peggy away and gave a tyrant the opportunity to snap his fingers and turn all he cared about into dust.
He didn't know how badly it all affected him at first. Not really.
The first year after Thanos snapped his fingers, he was lost. He wandered in different directions and chose be alone with his thoughts.
He thought back to the time when he first woke up from the ice and tried to lock onto to the positives of waking up in the new century and what that brought him. He recalled smiling faces. Kind ones. Despite his loneliness and challenges with accepting where he was, there were people who saw his struggles. People who helped him. People he grew to love and see as family.
Perhaps he could do it all over again. That was the first step to move on, but losing people he grew to care about so deeply in the world he always felt misplaced in, was more painful than anything he could have prepared himself for. Nothing compared. Not even when he crashed that plane.
Steve found that the difference between moving on from his past life and the catastrophe caused by Thanos, was that he knew he had a chance to stop it all.
It was living after knowing that he failed that he couldn’t stomach.
It was a far cry from waking up into the future and discovering that Peggy, and his comrades, the Commandos, had lived full and happy lives.
No. This was…indescribable.
Thanos' snap changed everything.
For nights and when he closed his eyes, Steve watched them disintegrate into nothing, his most trusted allies and friends. He fought to get to them each time, but his failures followed him in his dreams.
He wallowed with guilt in the first year. He wasn't alone in it. The surviving Avengers and the whole world was quiet. Grief affected everyone differently, and he chose to do it own his own and away from others who reached out. He couldn't face them.
Eventually, and as time passed, his guilt morphed into anger. It tore at him and made him lash out at those who tried to help. Sometimes Natasha would press her lips together and simply glare back at him. He wasn’t proud of the things he said. Steve convinced himself that this version of him would pass, but that he had a right to say what he needed to say. His word choices weren't kind most times, he knew that. And he regretted every second of it.
He was right though and the anger melted away to pave for the loneliness that became so suffocating, he was certain he'd go mad. He supposed that came around the second to third year in.
No one could move on, but they needed to. He needed to accept that.
For the few who were left, time became a passing thought. It was endless, and yet...the years blew by as they tried what they could to maintain order. Natasha was at the helm of it all, and Steve knew that he should have been more vocal in expressing his gratitude. She was a true warrior, and someone who grew to know them as family. She didn’t give up on the people who looked to them for guidance. It was admirable.
He could have done more. He knew that too. He, Natasha, and Rhodes stayed in touch with others as much as they could. Bruce Banner wanted to be alone. There was no convincing him to stay and assist with civilians. They were all experiencing guilty and frustration individually, and the Hulk's disappearance during the battle affected Bruce's mental health far more than they could imagine.
Tony had regressed and left after their falling out. Steve couldn't blame him. When they had their row after he touched back down to Earth, it had been explosive, and Tony and Pepper left to go into hiding. The media did them in. Tony Stark was a brand. They all were, but his business suffered, and he was called into question. Steve understood why he moved away from it all.
Nothing was helping.
Even Clint, who Natasha tried repeatedly to reach had disappeared.
The five years were a blur. He couldn’t recall doing much while we went through the many stages or grief.
He listened to soundtracks from the ’40s, started reading articles of heroic stories of the Commandos, and he began to carry his compass around again. It wasn’t much of a life. Captain America was gone, and Steve didn’t know how to be Steve Rogers again.
So when the opportunity to right their wrongs came, he jumped at it with a fierceness he thought he'd lost--And they won. But that win didn’t come without sacrifice.
He didn’t know what broke him more. Perhaps it was too much to ask that he keep them. Life didn’t work that way, but he decided to take Tony’s advice to heart. Now whether that was to remain and assist, or…
For once, Steve didn’t want to think about them. He knew he should. They expected it of him, they always had, but he couldn’t explain the years lost, the years he spent broken, or how he wasn't the same person they thought he was. With Natasha and Tony gone, the only two people who knew him well enough and experienced the same hardships of the past five years, Steve made the decision to leave.
He remembered feeling a tremendous amount of relief when he finalized his plan. It was a feeling he hadn't felt in years. It was refreshing if not selfish, he knew that too, but he’d given enough. He deserved to rest.
When he knocked at her door and she answered, he swept her off her feet. They had a long conversation accompanied by tears and laughter. They shared their dance, and Steve held her close, and finally he thought his life could begin.
But as they talked, embraced, and laughed, he knew that it was apparent that the corners of his eyes were strained and forced into lines. He knew his laughter didn’t sound as jolly as he wanted it to sound. He noticed it all.
Peggy was ecstatic with the future and all he told her about. She asked about the technology, the people he met, and Steve spoke eagerly. He reminisced and told her stories of the brave and courageous team he led and what they meant to him.
The laughter died then.
It ceased when he spoke of the years they spent fighting alongside one another, or in the case with Tony, against each other, and then the churning in his stomach was back.
He lowered his eyes and nodded his head, watching with his lips pressed together as she paced around the room, thrilled and full of life. Peggy was always destined for greatness. He knew the type of woman she would become. And he was happy for her.
But that caused him to pause also, because with him back, he started to wonder what would her life be like. What would his life be like? Would he sit by and let everything come to be? Could he watch idly by knowing all the impending disasters that would fall upon them eventually? What of the future? Would Sam still be there for Bucky like he planned?
His eyebrows scrunched together, and Steve continued to watch her pace around, her long skirt was swishing back and forth and her heels were tapping constantly on the hardwood.
He didn't doubt that a life with her would be a spectacular life. It was what he'd dreamnt of for years, and yet...he wasnt the same Steve. He didn't know who he was and where he belonged most days, and---
They were different. He was different.
Peggy's kettle whistled, and he stared long and hard as she poured them their tea. There it was. A sign that he couldn't explain, because how on Earth did a teacup bring him to his senses?
"It's been in the family for generations."
That's what she said of this particular set of china. A family heirloom. Her family.
Steve knew it was over before it really began. And that destroyed him. This dream and this want of a normal life, to be reunited, to be content, and to have peace was---Had it been in front of him this whole time? Was he simply too overcome with grief that he allowed her memory to blanket over him to cope?
She looked confused at first, and he lowered his eyes.
“Am I not enough?” she asked.
His face fell. “I’m sorry.”
They were silent for a long time. He hadn’t told her everything. Nothing of her future. He didn’t know what could possibly happen if he did, so he observed the way her face hardened, and they stilled, both unmoving. When she finally spoke, she told him that she wanted her Steve back. She wanted the man she knew, and that he was no longer that man.
She understood, nodded her head, and wished for him to live his life happily, and Steve in return, told her she was destined to accomplish great things. That, she was happy with, and they laughed and shared another dance. He kissed her, a move he desperately wanted to do to tell her how sorry he was, and that this would be the last.
It was bittersweet, but it needed to happen.
Overall, and as ridiculous as his thoughts were for thinking this could work, he was grateful that fate allowed him to make things right and make due on his promise and to let go properly.
So when he found himself back on the platform meeting everyone's more than shocked faces, he felt a new wave brush against his cheeks.
The breeze was gentle and smelled sweet for once, and Steve knew that this was where he belonged. He was no longer a man out of his time, but a man who learned to overcome it.
The first few weeks after the restoration and his return of the stones, it was just as he thought things would be. People were in a new state of chaos.
Confusion and gathering everyone togeher was the primary focus before anything else. Several world leaders had returned and didn't know their place or how to go about sharing positions of authority with who currenlt sat in the seat, businesses were uncertain where to start, people's ages were all over the place--Heck, the whole world was turned upside down.
For Steve, it was simply being there that gave him peace. He always wanted to help people, and while it exhausted him to no end, he learned this was what made him happy. There were plenty of people who he cared about who shared in the same beliefs. He wasn't alone.
Fury found a safe place for him, Bucky, and Sam outside D.C. in a remote area. He figured a secluded place for Bucky was for the best, and Sam jumped at the idea of a home. Bruce decided to remain in the city but promised to drop by, T'Challa returned to Wakanda to handle his council and kingdom, and Clint retired to spend time with his family.
Wanda was the exception. She disappeared, but on the drive, they spoke about tracking her. Steve knew she was hurting over losing Vision. Tony, Natasha, and Vision were heroes, and they all deserved to be celebrated as heroes.
But he knew that wasn’t enough. Not for Wanda.
Fury told them he had tech that could assist with locating her. They needed to be certain she knew she had friends. Desperation and loneliness was a dangerous thing to wallow in alone. He knew that from experience.
"Do you think they have good cable at this place?" Sam asked, and he leaned forward from the back seat. "I mean, do they even still have football?"
He chuckled at that, and Bucky shrugged his shoulders in the passenger seat.
The leagues had been canceled, much to Sam's dismay, but the surprising thing about people was that they always found a way to bounce back. Steve smirked at that.
When they arrived at the house, he was surprised to actually find a house. It was strange. He expected a fortress equipped with the best technology or something floating. That was what he came to know about Fury. He had vast tech and advances and secrets they likely knew very little about, but when their car drove on dirt and gravel, they found a secluded home surrounded by trees.
Fury was waiting for them, but he wasn't alone.
Sharon Carter was sitting on the porch railing.
"Well, look who finally decided to join us," came Fury's drawl.
Steve shut the car door behind him and outstretched his hand. They saw each other briefly at Tony's funeral, but everyone was in turmoil and he hadn’t been in a good state of mind to have an open conversation.
"I figured it was about time," he said, and he angled his head to Sharon.
The sun was bright in a place so open. There were no tall buildings or shadows, and the rays captured her blonde hair easily. It gleamed and was blinding.
She smiled at him in a way he hadn’t thought he’d missed. He smiled back.
"I want to say that I have many things to unpack, but let's face it, those five years didn’t go so well. I didn’t retain a lot of personal belongings," Sam piped up behind him. He had a single backpack swung around his shoulder.
Steve shook his head and let out a short chuckle. Fury had taken to introducing himself formally to the Bucky, letting bygones be bygones in a move that made Steve's eyebrows shoot up, and the two disappeared into the house along with Sam.
He shook his head lightly, perplexed but also releived that they were amongst friends.
He looked over his shoulder.
She was still sitting on the ledge and facing away from him as he stood by the doorway. Her legs swung back and forth, and the wood creaked.
Steve sighed.
He was relieved to see her. Long before the snap, they parted ways in Germany. It was before Tony and he had their falling-out. Sharon was extremely skilled in hiding herself, and for nearly two years, she chose only to communicate with Natasha. It bothered him, if he remembered correctly. He wanted his team safe, and he considered her a part of that team.
To add to his annoyance and anxiety, Natasha was adamant with keeping Sharon’s whereabouts private. He recalled the day she approached him to murmer her worries that had Sharon failed numerous times to follow-up as part of their protocol. It was just after the snap and when the world was chaotic. They concluded that she disappeared with Fury and Hill and with the millions of people that were dusted. That left a sour taste in his mouth.
"Hey," he said, and he approached her and placed his elbows against the rail.
"Hey yourself," she said. She tilted her head back.
His lips slipped into a small smile. "Long time no see."
She scrunched her nose. "I suppose it's been longer for you than it has for me," she said, and he could see that she was looking over him carefully. "You're different."
Steve nodded. "You could say that," he said.
They fell into a comfortable silence, and he peered down at his hands. He wasn't sure where else to look after he found that the trees directly in front of them stretched on for miles.
She looked different too. Her hair was long and hung past her waist, her eyes, which were once bright, looked tired, and she had some bandages around her fists that he hoped weren’t from injury. He didn't want to simply stare, but he noted how her smile was still familiar and warm.
He twisted his fingers and fidgeted. Steve didn't know what to say. He considered her an ally, not so much a friend, though that sounded far worse in his head than he wanted it to be, and he also considered her as an old romantic interest.
There was a kiss in there that he remembered quite vividly and some words and feelings they never got to sort out. That, and...there was also the looming shadow of Peggy and the trip he made to set things right.
His knuckles grew white.
If he stayed with Peggy, that he would have ultimately ruined Sharon's life and her family tree. He wondered what she would think of that.
The twisting in his stomach was back.
He didn't deserve her smile.
"Looks like we'll be neighbors again for a while," he heard her say.
He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so?" he said, and he chuckled at the idea.
She shrugged her shoulders ad lazily smiled down at him. "But I won't spy on you this time, I promise," she said. "Plus, it'll be interesting to have roommates, even if it means I'll be surrounded by testosterone."
"I'll do my best to be as supportive as I can,” he said. “Fury’s not staying?”
Sharon scoffed. “He never stays for too long.”
Steve nodded slowly, and he let his eyes fall on her again. "You look good."
She raised an eyebrow. "I'm trying," she started. "It's not easy."
His lips thinned. "Were you alone?" he asked.
She was quiet for a moment. "Yeah," she breathed.
Steve gave her a hard stare. His chest was tight. "I'm sorry, Sharon."
"For?"
He paused. "For not looking hard enough," he said. "We could have taken you with us. You didn't need to be alone."
It was true. He became so wrapped up in his war with Tony that he accepted her help without a second thought and left her to fend for herself. When he rescued his team from the Raft and took brief refuge in Wakanda, he realized that all the contact numbers he had for her had gone dead. If it hadn’t been for Natasha…
And now that she confirmed what he dreaded for years, and that she was alone when she was snapped to oblivion, and alone again when she came back, he felt worse.
"You need to stop doing that."
He relaxed his eyebrows, and he blinked a few times.
"You don't need to take the blame for everything, you know," she started. "I wanted to help, and I went into hiding on my own. I made that choice. It's not your fault, Steve."
He lowered his eyes. "Still. I know what it's like waking up and feeling alone and not knowing what happened," he said. “You should have had someone there with you.”
Her hand found his, and she gave his fingers a tight squeeze. "I'm fine," she insisted. "It was a tough time for everyone. I’m just grateful this team is alive and kicking." She stuck her thumb out behind her to gesture to the open door.
He held her hand back. Her smile looked slightly forced, but he nodded.
She always held a perkiness about her that he thought was utterly charming. The two years were good to her despite everything, and he was glad that the time she spent alone hadn't damaged that spark.
They all gathered to have lunch. The pantry was well-stocked for their arrival, and after Sam cooked up a good meal, Fury left them to settle a few matters in the city.
Steve brought his things to his room. The home was spacious and housed four bedrooms upstairs and one suite downstairs which Sharon took for herself after telling them she would need that time and space away from the boys.
The kitchen was renovated and the dining was large enough to seat eight people. Two super soldiers living under one roof meant a lot of food would be consumed so they needed the extra space at the table. The living room was also comfortable, and Sam was relieved when the television picked up some good channels.
Sharon's room was down a small hallway that stretched to the back of the house and led to another entryway to the wrap-around porch. She had one folding chair out there, and he caught a glimpse of her that night seated in it with her phone pressed against her cheek and quietly conversing on the line.
He kept his distance.
It was a strange, yet peaceful thought that he had friends close by. Sam needed the home in the interim until he could settle in with his family if that’s what he still wanted to do, and Bucky wanted to be far from the city.
“We never did get to talk about it.”
Steve looked over his shoulder, and Bucky joined him out on the porch. They looked ahead towards the dim trees. “It’s not the right time,” Steve said.
Bucky hummed, and he brought his elbows down on the porch railing. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you came back.”
Steve lightly laughed. “Is that so?”
“There’s not enough stupid around here.”
“I thought there was too much.” Steve sighed and brought his eyes to the sky.
Bucky did the opposite and eyed his gloved hand. “You think there’s more of them out there?”
“Followers of Thanos?”
Bucky nodded.
Steve sighed again. “Maybe. We’ll know if they come,” he said. “But one battle at a time.”
Fury returned and left again the next day. Steve doubted it had little to do with actual business, and more with trying to discover what the current world leaders were deciding on. He promised to keep in touch, and Sharon didn't look pleased with being left behind.
She grumbled quietly to herself and didn't speak with them the rest of the day.
The next few weeks saw the four of them settle into a routine.
Bucky took to working on his aim. He shot at cans with rifles from the basement armory, and sometimes he and Sam would take turns practicing throwing around his shield. It was a healing process that Steve enjoyed being a part of. The two had rough patches to sort out. He was only grateful to have them back.
In the afternoons, Sam found entertainment watching shows on the television that he said he needed to catch up on. There were five years worth of sports footage and arguments that Sam was neither happy or upset about. He took those teams seriously.
And Steve...well, he distracted himself with sketching out a plan to build a shed.
Yes. A shed.
He meant for it to be a place where he could go when he wanted to be alone. Lately, and since the government advised they lay low until the new order could be put to place, his boredom led to some odd sketches on some notepad, and he decided that he could finally have some time to return to art.
The home was large, but the rooms weren’t so spacious, and he didn’t want to have his things scattered. Out of the four of them, he had the most personal items. Sam laughed at that, but Steve also spent the past five years sulking in the presence of soundtracks and art materials.
So after the third week, he made the decision to build himself a space where he could store his things. That, and there were endless rows of trees available and an open field to build it on.
He spent that afternoon in the blazing sun cutting trees. He even held back on his strength, however odd that sounded. He needed an activity to occupy his time and dragging out this new hobby kept him busy. Bucky helped with lugging wood back into the field, and Sam dropped by often to look over the plan.
The only person he scarcely saw was Sharon.
To say he was disappointed was treading the line. The less he saw her the more annoyed he got. He had weeks to mull it over, and he determined that the only way this could happen if is she were intentionally avoiding him.
There were times when he would hear her talking to Sam and even Bucky, but other than the brief moment on the porch the day they arrived, he only saw her during meals. And she never looked at him.
When he spent his afternoons at the back of the house cutting wood and putting his project together, the chair she had on the porch remained empty until he packed up and finished for the day. Then he would hear shuffling that indicated she finally snuck out of her room to head outside for fresh air.
Steve wasn't sure what he did. His mind wandered back to their conversation and he couldn’t place if he said anything that offended her.
Sam and Bucky picked up the strange air in the house quickly too. Steve suspected it was the reason they drove to town the next day to fish for groceries and supplies after breakfast, and when Sharon offered to accompany them, Sam insisted that needed the extra room in the back to bring home an arsenal of food for the two super soldiers. So yes, he knew they were giving them some time to be alone to talk.
Steve felt his lips move back and forth. When the sound of the car started and signaled that the two were driving off, Sharon politely excused herself away from the dining table. His eyebrows scrunched together, and he stared at her retreating back as she started to head to the hallway and to her room.
"Did I do something?" he blurted.
As blunt as it was, and he compiled many ways to open this conversation, he hated the way it came out. It worked though, and Sharlon turned to face him.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
The confusion in her face didn’t reach her eyes, and he frowned. "You've been avoiding me," he said.
"Why would I be avoiding you?" she asked.
He bobbed his head slowly. "Nevermind," he said. "I must be imagining things." His smile must have not come out right because he was annoyed, but he knew he was in no position to pry if she didn’t want to answer honestly.
When she nodded and turned away, his brows furrowed. "Sharon." She turned again. "Do you want to go for a walk?"
She looked uncertain. "Sure."
They rounded the acres, stepping over the grassy area, and Steve held onto the soft cotton inside his pockets.
"I'm thinking of clearing a path here so it's easier to walk on," he said, breaking their silence.
"That sounds like a good idea. I've been wanting to explore the area too," she said. "You know, mark some trees and see what else is out there."
He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "I thought I saw a river on the way up here," he said, and he paused. "If you want we could explore together. Try to find it I mean.”
She didn’t answer right away, and she was looking down at her feet as they walked and after a good few seconds, he felt his heart sink.
"Okay."
The corner of his lips tilted up, and she reluctantly eyed him, and her cheek dimpled.
They ventured past the trees and up some hills. The rocks were uneven, and he hadn't anticipated some climbing, but Sharon didn’t complain. When they crossed over a fallen tree, he instinctively held his hand out to her but found that she already climbed over. He scratched the back of his head, feeling a little foolish that he’d forgotten how independent she was.
"We're close," she said.
He nodded and was elated that the silence was broken again. They had a lot they could speak about, but she was awfully quiet during their hike and again, he didn’t want to push her.
"Yeah," he breathed. "I wonder where it leads to."
The next couple of trees made way for them and Sharon was ahead. She smacked away some branches until the sound of running water grew louder. They stepped out of the trees and he stood next to her on the edge of the cliff.
It definitely was not a river, but the rush of water was from a stream that lead to a small waterfall and down to a swimming hole.
"We climbed the wrong way," he said, putting his hands on his hips. "It looks undiscovered.”
Sharon wiped her brow, and he noticed the beads of sweat on her forehead and around her neck. She removed her t-shirt halfway through the trek due to the heat, and she swiftly pulled her top in one quick motion that he averted his eyes in a flash. When he finally gathered the courage to look, she had an eyebrow raised and was wearing a tank top underneath. He chuckled and pushed down the heat that crept up his neck.
He tried doing it again this time around to distract himself from the same tank top that was clinging to her tightly. The sweat wasn’t helping. It dribbled down her neck and pooled at her collarbone and down the rest of her chest. He shouldn't be looking at her like that, and it was no excuse to say that he was a man and that Sharon was an attractive woman.
He cleared his throat when the chuckling didn’t work. “Should we go down?”
"Yeah, I could use a chance to cool off," she said.
His reflexes were quick. It came with the added benefits of the serum, and if he hadn’t been distracted by indecent thoughts, he would have caught on that she had taken a few steps back to ready herself to jump.
“Sharon!”
She flung herself off the small cliff and down to the water the next second, and he called her name again, surprised. He looked over the edge, squinting his eyes as the water settled, and didn’t see the top of her head emerge from the water.
“Sharon!”
The water bubbled, and her blonde head popped out. He blew out a breath.
"Have you lost your mind?" he called out.
She was rolling her eyes at him, he could tell. She waved him over. "You jump over buildings every day, don't tell me you're afraid.”
He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. The water did look inviting, and he glanced over his shoulder at the sun and how bright it still was. He looked down over the edge and sighed. Should he...remove his shirt?
He swallowed the lump in his throat and eyed Sharon paddling in the water and thought against it.
He jumped and landed not too far from her. The cool rush of water against his skin was refreshing, and he took in a gulp of air when he surfaced. This was a well-deserved treat after a long trek in the woods on a hot and humid day.
Brushing the water from his face, he scanned the water for her, kicking his feet to keep him afloat. Sharon was swimming towards the trickle of the waterfall, and he followed suit.
"Don't venture too far. We don't know if there are jagged edges on those rocks," he warned. She ignored him, and he kicked his feet faster to catch up. "Sharon."
"It's just water, Steve," she said.
The loud crackle from the rushing water muddled her voice, but when he finally reached her, she was laughing. "What's so funny?" he asked.
"I don't think I've ever seen you so disheveled before," she said, and she moved her arms back and forth in slow circles.
Steve lightly laughed. "You should have seen me when we were on the run. I don't think I picked up a razor once," he said.
She was quiet, and his lips thinned because of course, she hadn't seen him that way. He was with his team, with Sam, Natasha, and Wanda, and Sharon had been alone.
"Didn't think you had it in you," she mumbled, and she swam by him to find shallow water.
He sighed and followed behind her. There were larger and smooth rocks to the opposite end of the falls where the water was slightly warmer and less deep. Sharon was standing on them now, he could tell, because she stopped moving her arms, and the water came up just below her collar bone steadily.
"We should tell Bucky and Sam about this place. I'm sure they’d enjoy it," she said, and she pulled over her shoulders. It fell against her back.
He didn't respond and instead, he watched how her long blonde hair floated atop the water in waves.
Sharon waved a hand. "What is it?"
Steve shook his head, embarrassed. "Your hair's gotten longer," he blurted.
She hummed. "I need to cut it. Just haven't had the time. It gets everywhere."
He paddled closer to her so that his feet could touch the same rock, and Sharon pressed her lips together.
"The long hair suits you,” he said.
They fell silent, and he wasn't certain if that was necessarily a good thing. He was doing a lot of staring at her lately. He blamed it on the way she avoided him at every opportunity. Steve was curious, and the more she pulled away, the more curious he got.
So there was staring again, and it was rude and inappropriate because she was so bare at this moment and her skin was still rosy from their hike. Her face was flushed, and up close, he noticed freckles on her nose. He hadn’t openly stared at her for a few years. There was a lot to take in.
Her eyes were still bright and her lashes were wet and much longer than he remembered. And then his eyes fell on her lips and how she had them slightly open and parted. They were pink and moist, and...he recalled a memory from long ago.
"Steve, you're staring," she finally said.
His mouth dropped open.
He shouldn't have put her in such an uncomfortable situation. He hoped that they would get a chance to know each other better and become friends since they moved in, but in the past few weeks and with her purposefully ignoring him, he felt that maybe they couldn't be--that he had ruined it somehow.
"Why are you avoiding me?" he asked again and he inched closer.
She didn't respond but she did eye the little space of water between them.
“We should get back,” she said, and she whipped around and walked along the rocks until she hoisted herself back on land.
Steve blew out a breath, and he slowly climbed out after her. She was wringing her tank top, and he did the same with his shirt.
They walked back to the house without an exchange of words. He let her walk ahead, and it left him behind to gather his thoughts.
Did...Sharon know?
Did she know about his trip to the past? To Peggy?
His lips thinned. Her shoulders were tense, far too tense for the walk back. They found a clearer path that didn’t include a climb, so he knew she was uneasy.
What happened?
Sharon was supportive and comforting when he arrived. She gave him a warm smile out on that porch, and something between then and the last few weeks changed. And it was bothering him more than anything.
When they reached the house, Bucky and Sam had returned. The car was out at the front, and Sharon jogged up the porch steps and quickly disappeared into her room.
Sam looked up as he entered. “I’m cooking lunch. You want?”
Steve nodded.
“One of these days, you’ll need to learn how to make a decent meal,” Sam said. He gestured with his head and to the hall. He lowered his voice. “You talk to her?”
“No,” he lied.
Sam sighed and shook his head and busied himself in the kitchen. Steve ran a hand down his face. His shirt was still clinging to him, but it was mostly dry. He ventured back to the porch where Bucky was leaning against the railing, a beer in one hand.
"Did you blow it again?”
Steve held back from rolling his eyes.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” Bucky took a sip of his beer.
Steve paused. “I think she knows.”
Bucky raised an eyebrow. “How?”
“I don’t know, but that’s the only explanation,” Steve said, and he sighed.
“Are you going to talk to her about it?”
“No.”
Bucky went back to his beer. “It could be something else,” he said. “Either way, you should tell her.”
“It doesn’t seem appropriate,” Steve said and lowered his eyes to his shoes.
“You’ll only make it harder on yourself,” Bucky told him, and he pushed himself upright, turning to walk back inside. He stopped just short of the door. “Take my advice. Don’t let it fester, or it’ll only get worse.”
Steve watched him disappear through the door, and he took in a breath and glanced back at the open field.
He should tell her. That would be the right thing to do, but right now he couldn’t. He needed to mend things with her first. Whatever reason Sharon had for constantly dodging him, he needed to remedy it and fast.
They weren’t friends. Maybe that was too much of a stretch, but he cared for her, and he needed to figure out what that meant before anything else.