[Quiet in the Chaos]

~10~

                                 
                                ~10~

—————————————————————

HER STOMACH twists with guilt. Her gaze drops when she remembers the familiarity of the sickness. She just can't stop disappointing people. She promised herself she would stop and yet, here she is.

The man who trusted her. Steve Rogers.

She had lied straight to his face about his best friend.

"Did he say anything, about where he might be going?"

His face was still bruised from his previous encounter and the movement of his left arm slightly stiff. Even still, standing over Nick Fury's 'grave', the man still longed to find his former comrade.

"No, he's not a guy of many words," she had answered solemnly, the lie tasting bitter on her tongue. In that moment, she found it difficult to believe she could hate herself any more.

Sadness had passed over his usually bright features, the Captain had pressed his pink lips in a thin line. He dipped his head. "Thank you, both of you, for your help."

Sam shrugged, a playful smirk dancing on his lips. "Anytime man." He sighed. "You're going after him."

Steve blinked, pausing for a moment. "You don't have to come with me."

"When do we start?" Sam's eyes glinted as he speaks, a newfound, or rather, rediscovered part of his military self coming to the surface.

Steve's blue eyes flickered to Danielle who offered him a half smile. "I'll look out for him, Steve. I promise. But I think I need to get away for a while, sort some of my shit out," she breathed a laugh at the last part.

Being the gentlemen he is, the man's brows pulled together in understanding. "Of course. And if you ever need anything," he trailed off, a fleeting upward pull of the corner of his mouth, his eyes sincere.

She had offered a tight lipped smile in response, partially convincing herself she was telling the truth. He would never go to the house. He would be half way across the world by then.

And yet, here she is, adorning black leggings and a large hoodie, sunglasses on the bridge of her nose and of course, a grey baseball cap, tucking her long hair out of her face. She sits on a bus seat, on her way to that exact house.

Because she couldn't rid the man out of her mind.

Although she isn't technically on the run, ever since her encounter with Sitwell she had been on edge, her heart pounding whenever she passes a stranger or brushes shoulders with one.