What Is and Isn't Mine
Tie a Yellow Ribbon Series - Part 1
The quinjet waits patiently on the landing platform of Avengers Tower and so does Steve. He takes it in, his favourite city, the backdrop of the skyscrapers and the river, the way the summer heat rises up in waves from the streets. It's his home, New York and while he knows he has to leave, has to do this, he feels a little empty at the idea. He doesn't feel as connected anymore.
Her heels wake him from his thoughts, purposeful and so damn strong on the concrete. He isn't sure what it is when he turns to look, but he finds himself admiring her every step, the way her skirt hints at her knees, the flex of her calves. He's been noticing a lot of that since her hospital visit.
"Captain."
"Lieutenant."
She's beautiful, of course. He's known that for much longer than he'd like to admit. She'd been beautiful in the hospital, on the helicarrier, when she's in control and when she's curled up on the couch for movie night because Pepper's bullied her into attending. He's drawn to her, he knows, at first because of the challenge of making her smile and then because that smile, the rare real thing, is just utterly devastating. But seventy years of sleep and super serum hasn't dealt with some of his other hang-ups. He's already thrown her life into free fall twice and he knows he's not stable enough to ask her for more than the information she's carrying in her hand.
"Here," she says, handing him the envelope. "Safe houses, resources, all along the west coast and all of the info I could get my hands on."
It's a lot, he knows, because he'd underestimated her once during an op off the coast of Côte d'Ivoire and hasn't done it again.
"They were SHIELD's," she goes on. "So be careful. We've had some uprisings out there."
He nods, flicking his fingers along the corner. "Think we'll find him?"
She seems unfazed, like there she isn't surprised by the question. "From what I know of the Winter Soldier, he'll be found when he's ready, and not before. Even if your friend is in there."
He tries not to deflate. He hadn't realized how much he wanted her support. She matters, he knows, has known for a while. What he hadn't understood was how much she matters. He can feel it in the way his fingers twitch, the way he wants to brush the hair that's whipping across her face behind her ears. She wears her hair down a lot now.
"But," she goes on, tosses her head to get that strand out of the way. "I know what it's like to have people who are important come back from the dead. Second chances are rare, and I can't judge you for wanting that."
It's not unequivocal, but he takes it. After all, she's almost single-handedly responsible for the presence of the quinjet in the first place. When she'd told him to call, he hadn't quite expected this. She's made herself invaluable, whether she realizes it or not, both to his need to find Bucky and to him. He wants to tell her, wants to explain so many things, wants to step towards her and splay his hand over the bottom of her back, just once.
"Lieutenant, Cap."
Maria steps away – when had they stepped that close? – as Sam approaches, duffle bag swung over his shoulder. Steve offers Sam a nod, trying to get rid of the tight feeling in his chest.
"Ready?" he asks.
Sam grins. "For sun and sand on the west coast? Who isn't?"
Steve feels the smile twitch at the corner of his mouth, but there's also a seriousness in the lines on Sam's face, like he knows exactly what this mission means to Steve. He glances away into the sun, because it seems like all of the people around him know what this means. And they're supporting him.
He faces Maria after a moment. "Thank you," he says, trying to put everything into two insignificant words; affection and gratitude and awe and appreciation all mixed up. He'll miss her, he realizes.
She nods, crossing her arms over her chest. "You know where I am."
He doesn't let himself lead between the lines, doesn't let himself believe they even exist. Instead, he nods.
"Steve," she calls, just as he climbs on the ramp. He turns to find she's still standing there, hasn't moved a muscle, hair still blowing in the wind. He wants to draw her, he realizes, the strength in her shoulders, the vulnerability in her face. "Be safe."
He knows his surprise is more than a little evident, but he manages a nod and a slight smile. "I will," he answers. "See you, Maria."
As the quinjet takes off he watches her out of the ramp until the pilots have to pull it up. And even then, he can see her if he closes his eyes, see the way she becomes smaller and smaller.