Chapter One: Who Knew Superheroes Got Drunk?
Steve wasn't entirely sure why he found himself at the bar close to his home. He felt at an all-time low. After months of a fruitless search for Bucky, Sam and he had decided to head home for a month of "vacation." The term almost made Steve laugh, upon returning home he found his answering machine filled with frantic messages from a few ex-agents of SHIELD, urging him to come to an Avengers' meeting. He knew he really should have called them back, considering Natasha had been urging him to get back into the swing of things. Yet with everything that had happened over the course of the past year, he just wanted to be off the hero track for a few weeks.
Of course, coming to the grungy bar near his apartment was not perhaps the smartest decision. As soon as the Captain had entered, at least six people fell out of their seats. A journalist had leaped up, practically jumping on the super soldier. Steve had dismissed him, using the excuse that he was not open to comment on any of the current issues that exploited SHIELD. Honestly, it was the truth. After six months of avoiding the press, Steve was still struggling to figure out just what had happened. HYDRA. That's what had happened, but Bucky… He had felt sure it had not been sheer coincidence he wound up safe on the banks of the Potomac alive…partially, anyway. Something—someone—had saved him, and he was holding onto the thin shred of hope that it had been his best friend. Maybe he had gotten through to him… If he had, Bucky hadn't shown his face since that day on the Helicarrier.
Things began to settle down as Steve drank his fifth beer; there was still no sign of an easy buzz he had been hoping for. He had known it was nearly impossible for him to get drunk, but tonight was one of the rare times he wished he could. He simply wanted to forget the enormous pressure that rested on his shoulders, and lose himself in the carefree reality of alcohol. He decided he would simply keep drinking, figuring one way or another he would have to get a slight buzz. As he drank on, he heard the door open and the sound of high-heels click against the tiled floor. He looked up and felt a tired sigh pass from his lips. It was Sharon Carter. Great.
Sharon, the same SHIELD agent who had posed as the "innocent, cute nurse" down the hall from him, had entered the bar. And the worst part? She looked amazing. Her placid and "do-goody" appearance from her days as a "nurse" had been abandoned, as her blond curls had now grown past her shoulders. Her pastel pink scrubs had been replaced with a black leather jacket with a bright red tank top to match, but her most startlingly transformation was not her form-fitting clothing, but her bright brown eyes that were nearly identical to Peggy's. At the time they had met, they were sweet and kindly, but now the generous twinkle had been switched with a powerful and fearless glimmer. Steve found himself staring at his old neighbor and turned back to his half-empty drink.
Agent Thirteen, as she had once been known as, strode over to Steve, she sat down beside him. She knew it was him, but she refrained from giving a greeting. With the blond sitting not a foot away from him, he was able to recognize the telltale signs of insomnia resting beneath her chocolate brown eyes. His own eyes had shown plenty of sleepless nights over the past two years. Her face was sunken and narrow like she hadn't eaten a proper meal in months, she looked pale and sallow. She ordered a glass of gin with a splash of cranberry. Finally, she moved her eyes to Steve's.
"I haven't seen you in a while." She sipped her drink, averting her eyes away from his.
The Captain found himself chuckling at her remark. "Yes, well… That's what happens when someone's avoiding you." He looked at her pointedly. He wasn't about to lie. Steve was not a fan of deception, coming from a time where honesty was everything. He had once told Fury those exact words: Sometimes his generation did things that made them not sleep well at night, but they got over it, made compromises… They were honest. They didn't go around their problems, but stuck their feet in the dirt a little deeper and drove harder against the never ceasing enemy. It was the ways of his generation, and he couldn't forget it no matter how hard he tried.
Sharon sighed and rolled her eyes, she seemed on edge. "Look, Steve, I told you I was sorry for-ˮ
"For lying to my face for over a year?" He said evenly, not missing a beat as he ordered another beer.
She took in a patient breath, pausing for a moment, as if she was biting some bitterness back. "For everything. I'm sorry that you've had to endure this… It must be hard trying to find someone who understands everything you're going through."
Steve chuckled darkly. "Yeah, try finding someone who's ninety-seven years old, was frozen in time for seventy years, and then his best friend—who he thought was dead—is back seemingly as a psychotic guy with a bionic arm. For some odd reason, there seems to be a lack of support groups who can really relate." He swallowed another healthy amount of his drink. Finally, a lightly fuzzy feeling was beginning to settle over him on his seventh drink…or what it his eighth? He couldn't be sure anymore.
"You don't think I don't understand that?" She snapped. Her brown eyes looked like they were on fire. "I'm trying to be your friend, Rogers." She finished her drink with a satisfied sigh. "I might not know what hell it was like to live in the forties, but I could try. I'm not promising I'm going to dress up as a Nazi so you chase me around, but I want to help you. Let me help you."
"I don't need your help, ma'am. I just want my friend back." He said dryly. He could feel a sort of foggy haze begin to settle over his speech. Was he actually getting drunk?
"Captain Rogers, to be perfectly honest, you do." She said with a sort of bluntness that made Steve begin to smile. "SHIELD's in ashes, Captain America is drunk—ˮ how could she know, already?—"and you're a hero with nothing to save. The world's changed, but despite that, you can still change it. Maybe what the world needs right now is a man who came from a time where life was simpler, and when people were told to do something, they just did it, no questions asked."
Steve smirked at her sudden talkative personality. He hadn't seen her as a girl who would want to strike up a conversation. "Did you ever think the world changed me, Miss. Carter? This new and edgy century just had that effect on me, maybe?"
At that, Sharon smiled at him with an impish sort of grin. "No. Because I have a feeling, you promised someone you wouldn't let the world change you. No matter how hard it became…you just wouldn't do it." She ended her point by drinking another half of her second drink.
Her words struck home. She was right. His good friend, Dr. Erskine, had made him vow those very things shortly after his transformation. It made him feel like breaking open. He simply wanted to spill open and let someone else deal with the world's problems, but he couldn't do that. He wouldn't do that. The Captain didn't answer her, finding it immensely difficult to come up with a thoroughly thoughtful reply, when he was beginning to feel way past tipsy.
"Steve…?" Sharon gently laid a hand against his shoulder blade. Her fingers were soft and careful, as if he wasn't the strongest man alive… She touched him as he was breakable. As said, being the strongest man in the world, everyone always believed he was unbreakable… And he was, he wasn't saying that he would ever crumble, but it was nice to see someone else care about him that way. He turned to face her, noticing just how beautiful Sharon Carter was. Her golden curls and those chocolate brown eyes that seemed to be brimming with concern. Steve's eyes wandered down to her lips. They were a light shade of rose, with a full bottom lip and a perfect peaked top to match.
"Captain Rogers, are you-ˮ She stopped short when he stood up. He had taken a step towards her, his blue eyes solely focused on her. Her fear began to bubble up alongside with her desire. The tension in the room had definitely changed, it had been dreary and pressed when she had entered, now there seemed to be sparks…a tingling sensation rattled down her spine. In all her years of experience with SHIELD, she knew how moments like these went. This was the climax where she either reacted or lost her momentum. She chose to act. Her hands boldly rested on his chest and her eyes met his. At the first sight, their gazes locked and Steve bowed his head. His lips were mere centimeters from hers and she could feel the very pulse of life beneath her fingertips.
"I'm done feeling like shit." He said simply. He closed the distance and kissed her with no hesitation.