Chapter 27
Secret's Out
A/N: Locations changed very slightly to fit my narrative. You'll hardly notice.
"I was hoping I'd catch up to you, Jones. How are you?"
Chelsea had really thought she'd managed to escape the church in time to miss the awkward grief talk. She was at the hotel bar, already at the bottom of her first drink and waiting on her second.
She turned with no attempt at a smile. Mostly just sounding, and looking, quite tired, "You guys are staying here too?"
Sam Wilson nodded, "Yeah. We are. I saw you earlier but didn't tell the Cap…"
"That wasn't necessary."
"So you want to talk to him? That hasn't been the vibe for the last four months."
"Do you have to beat me up today? That funeral was for my Aunt too."
He calmed. Although he was less mad at her, and more just incredibly disappointed. The retirement he could understand; the silence, not so much.
Still, "I'm sorry. I take it she snatches attention from you a lot."
"Sharon." Chelsea reminded him of the blonde's name, "And she used to. My better-blood cousin and, I guess, at this point, my mortal enemy."
The man couldn't help his customary mischievous chuckle and side eyes, "Not over Rogers?"
Her chuckle actually sounded amused, "God no. She just wants to put me away forever in a maximum security facility for treason; never over a man."
"Oh, damn. It didn't look that way at the church."
"She needed me. But, being that strong for someone I want to strangle was exhausting. So I'm gonna go." Despite the fresh drink she'd just order she put down money and stood to leave.
Sam stopped her, blocking her path to the elevator, "You really should talk to him."
"About what, Sam? The weather? His love for my now-dead Aunt or whatever that shit was at the church with her Niece? Or maybe we can talk about how I dolloped retirement with the whipped cream of being in love with his best friend?"
Silence met her and she threw up her hands, turning back to her unfinished drink "Exactly."
He reached out and touched her shoulder and for a moment he could tell she suppressed the urge to hit him. Then he remembered her strength and backed off, "You didn't answer my original question though, Jones. How are you?"
"Terrible." she answered sharply, after she gulped almost half her drink. "I don't want to be here."
"I am sorry Chelsea. I should know better than most that regular life is just as hard as hero life."
"I was never a hero in the first place." she droned as she drained the rest.
But Sam's eyes were on the television above their heads. "You may get the chance to try at it again."
"United Nations Complex Bombed."
"The accords…" she trailed, mad at herself for forgetting, "The signing was today."
She heard a familiar voice behind her. Sharon in crisis mode on the phone with Steve not far behind her. Chelsea turned back to the television, and at the perfect time as the newscaster started, "Officials have released video of the suspect…"
And no one heard much of anything else.
That was Bucky on the screen.
Sharon finished her phone-call and looked around at them. Frowning at the back of her cousin's head, "I have to go to work."
As she walked off towards the elevators, Steve took a deep breath and addressed Sam, "I'm going to go with her."
"So are we." he spoke for himself and the ex-spy.
"We?" Chelsea questioned. Somehow the word had pierced through her racing thoughts.
"That or you'll try to stop us right?"
She looked at Steve after a moment, for the first time since the church; making eye contact and acknowledging him. "I'll go to Vienna with you and assess the situation. That's all."
"You still sure this wasn't your boy?"
Despite the sirens and raised voices around them, Chelsea heard Sam just fine. She slid only her eyes over to him, his own hiding behind dark shades, "I'm positive everyone's got the wrong man."
He nodded, "At least you're not alone in that."
"Wouldn't matter if I was." Her eyes continued to scan what was mostly just organized chaos. The media was rampant and official types swarmed the place. Just as she was questioning her own doubt in the baseball cap/sunglasses combo, she spotted someone.
"That's the prince isn't it?"
Sam sighed, "Yeah." without giving himself away he watched the woman before saying, "The death of his father is going to make this more complicated."
"I know."
"You want to tell him Bucky didn't do this?"
Chelsea finally turned to face Sam, "Did you volunteer me for tagging along just so you could continue to berate me?"
"I'm just disappointed in you."
She chuckled mirthlessly, crossing her arms, "You don't know me well enough for that."
Before he could speak up, Steve approached them. He seemed distracted and stressed, "We need to be somewhere."
The somewhere was some local bar. Relatively quiet and to Chelsea's continued surprise, the hats and glasses continued to work. The three of them stood around a tall-top table near the door, all of them awkwardly trying to maintain line of sight.
The woman couldn't take it anymore.
"As pleasantly surprised as I am to keep ending up in bars, the cloak and dagger is getting out of hand. What's going on?"
Steve pulled off his sunglasses, "We're going after Bucky."
"There goes that we again. Why am I still being included?"
The tension thickened as they bickered.
"Because you're going to tell us where he is so we can save him before they get to him."
"No. I'm not doing that."
Sam only rolled his eyes while Steve slid closer to the woman, "You're not the only one who knows where he is. You're wasting time."
Somehow the woman resembled a caught teen. Unused to this Steve who was also disappointed and possibly a little heartbroken, but very used to her always knowing how to bring her down, "Sharon…"
Her gaze flickered to the bar as the aforementioned woman rounded it, purposefully putting her back to the table where they stood. Chelsea watched her for a moment longer and took a deep breath, "You should go talk to her. It looks like she has something important to show you."
"What is she going to show him?" Sam asked the woman as Steve walked over to the bar. Sharon slid him a folder which he flipped open and after a moment's pause, he looked over at the tired, curly haired, woman.
For the first time in four months, Chelsea felt bad for her silence, for withdrawing. His disappointed and pained expression hit like a truck. "She's showing him her file on me."
Steve Rogers wanted to crumple the papers under his fingertips. Call logs and satellite photos of Chelsea in Bucharest. Sharon only watched him quietly, "I begged her to just talk to me."
"She's not doing too much talking with anyone anymore."
The blonde reached out for his arm, trying to be comforting but ultimately failing as he gently pulled his arm away.
"I should have really listened when she told me she loved him."
"What?"
The Captain shook it off. "How much time do we have?"
"Not much. My people will be right behind you…" Sharon was angry. Angry her most precious relationship with her cousin was like this. But not so angry at the thought of being past it, "For both of them."
"I'm in position. You guys are good for approach."
"Thanks Sam."
Chelsea stared at the ground. Uncomfortable in the clothing she once felt so proud to wear. Somehow a bunch of fabric and stitching felt so heavy; especially the star spanned across her back.
Steve waited for her patiently. After another moment, she sighed, "Is he inside?"
"No movement from where I'm sitting."
A nod, then she turned back to Steve, "How he lives…" She tried to ready him.
"I just want to save him. You know that."
"I do know that. But are you sure you want to sink to our level?"
"What do you mean?"
"For an old man, you are incredibly naive." she rounded the corner, leaving the alley next to Bucky's building and entering the front doors. She moved quickly, determined to not draw more attention than having a spangly grown man follow you around already did. "You really think you can do this and still be Captain America?"
"I'll still be Steve Rogers."
She stopped on the narrow stairs to turn back to him, for the first time in two days, offering a tired smile, "Alright then."
He followed her silently up the rest of the way, close; finding himself watching her moves. She seemed drained, unsure of her steps, and her hands trembled on the railing. When she stopped at a door, his heart skipped a beat.
"Is this it?"
"Yeah, it is." Chelsea reached out for the tattered doorframe, gripping the wood panel and pulling. A piece fell away and she retrieved a key from the gap in the wall.
"How many times have you been here?"
"Enough times. Maybe too many. We're only here because I put a big neon sign over his head."
"You can't blame yourself. At least we got here first."
"Still no movement out here." Sam's voice sounded in their headsets.
"If it's him you won't see him." Chelsea replied as she unlocked the door, "Just let us know when they get here."
"Copy that."
"What's the plan?" Steve asked her as she turned the knob.
"You're the Captain here. You tell me."
She opened the door and stepped aside for Steve to enter. Now it was her turn to watch him. He moved slowly, tentatively. It was so strange to watch his heart break. Even stranger still that she could see it in his body, in how he held his shoulders…
"How did he get here?"
"I don't know." she answered, "After I got him on the ship, I was out of the loop."
He wandered into the kitchen, pausing at the clippings on the fridge, "How did you know he was here?"
Chelsea said nothing until Steve turned to face her. This was an odd topic for their first civil conversation in months. Her eyes were wet for a boatload of reasons, "He asked me to come."
"Why?"
"Because she's the only person I could trust and the only person I wanted to see."