The Ghost [Marvel | Steve Rogers]

Chapter 42

Leipzig, Germany

Spring 2016

"There," Nadine murmured, leaning forward to point out the entrance they were after over Steve's shoulder. Following her gesture, Steve nodded.

"I see it." Shifting slightly, he fished the burner cell he'd been using from his pocket, handing it back over his shoulder. "Let them know." Leaning back, Nadine woke the phone, making short work of the requested message. Once assured it had sent, she handed the phone back to Steve, only to catch a glimpse of Barnes' face as she resumed her seat.

That he was on edge was painfully clear. Nadine bit back a sympathetic sigh. Of course he was. Not only were they on the verge of going back to Siberia—a place neither of them was keen on returning to even without considering it was his old prison specifically they were headed for—but they were mere moments away from rendezvousing with a handful of Steve's new allies. Allies Barnes didn't know. And after two years of hiding from the world? He was having to adjust. Fast.

But at least he seemed to have recovered reasonably well from the stress she and Steve had both put him through. That was a distinct relief. One that made her feel marginally better about her conviction that holding off on telling him about Nina just yet was the right call.

She reached out, squeezing his wrist gently in a subtle gesture of solidarity. The metal of his bionic arm was faintly cool to the touch, shifting minutely with a barely perceptible whir as he looked over to her. A small, tight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, and his flesh hand rose to cover hers, squeezing back in a silent demonstration of thanks.

Nadine couldn't help but smile back as some of the tension bled from his frame. Not much, but some.

Having finally been able to actually talk with the man had resulted in a far greater load off her mind than she could've ever hoped. But then, she'd been forced to face a lot in their short time laying low in her Dresden bolthole. And not just about her past with Barnes. So really, at the same time, she knew she shouldn't be surprised.

Yet here she was, privately marvelling behind her once more easily schooled expression, her thoughts and emotions, while not wholly calm, at least properly centred and containable once again, allowing her to feel more like herself than she had in a long time.

Perhaps ever, strange as it was to consider.

She'd found an unexpected sort of...peace within the abandoned store-turned-safehouse. She very much hadn't anticipated finding that, not feeling as unbalanced and chaotic as she had in the hours leading up to their arrival.

Catharsis? Definitely expected and certainly delivered to about the degree she'd anticipated.

Closure? To a point, yes, she'd hoped to find at least a measure of it and she'd been subsequently taken aback that it had truly come.

Absolution? That she hadn't believed she would ever truly find, but bewilderingly, she found herself caught by the astonishing sense that, perhaps, she might dare to hope she could earn it someday. Not for every horrible thing she'd ever done in her life, of course, but where Barnes was concerned?

Hope was an intoxicating thing. Something the former HYDRA agent sitting next to her understood intimately, she suspected. She had seen his face as she, Steve and Sam had all trooped downstairs, catching the almost fierce, determined light in his eye. Yes, if anyone understood about lure of any hope, however slight, for a chance at even a slight measure of redemption—of peace—it would be Barnes.

And then, of course, there was her time alone with Steve. Her cheeks threatened to warm happily at that particular development. She could swear she still felt the ghosts of his arms around her, or the feel of his lips on her neck...the things he had said...