Ch. 21

Alma woke up late the next morning and smiled as she saw Steve slumped over in his chair, snoring softly. He'd woken her up every two hours throughout the night to check on her, to make sure that there were no ill effects from her getting knocked unconscious. She had felt warm and safe with him watching over her, protecting her.

She had felt loved.

It was an odd feeling. She hadn't had it in years. She had rarely dated, spending nearly all her time focused on work. Her longest relationship lasted barely a month. She had avoided civilians, knowing that she have to lie repeatedly about what she did, who she really was. And going out with a fellow agent was out of the question. Not even counting S.H.I.E.L.D.'s very strict anti-fraternization rules, fellow operatives could be sent anywhere around the globe. The last thing she wanted was a boyfriend or husband she'd only see over Skype.

She supposed her parents loved her, in their own broken, damaged way. They didn't know what to do with a rebellious teenager. Their "tough love" had felt like anything but. And, once she'd be sent off to the S.H.I.E.L.D. recruitment center, she barely spoke to them. Partly, over the hurt they had caused each other, over the angry words exchanged between them, but partly because she knew that there was no way she could fit into their cookie cutter suburban life anymore. Carpools and the PTA were as foreign to her as night raids and interrogation techniques were to them. They lived in completely different worlds now. She was always evasive when they asked about work, knowing that any information she gave them could be dangerous to them, trying to protect them in her own way.

She got up quietly, so as not to disturb Steve. She rifled through her clothes, grabbing a pair of jeans and a long sleeve blue shirt and heading off to the bathroom to change. After she had dressed and tamed her hair into a respectable ponytail, she emerged and sat on the bed gingerly to put on her socks and boots.

She decided to take a short walk, maybe get some breakfast at the cafe near the hotel. She was sure that Steve would be asleep for a few more hours and she needed some time to think. She needed to come to a few decisions.

She took out the small pad of paper next to the phone and left a quick note on her pillow for Steve. For some reason, she couldn't bear to just leave him a text.

-Steve,

I needed to go for a walk and clear my head. I know we need to go over our plans for Pavlov and pick up Sam. I'll be back before noon. I promise.

Thank you for watching over me last night. It meant a lot to me.

-Alma

00000

After breakfast, Alma wandered the city streets for an hour or so, finally ending up back at the Parque Lezama. She sat on a park bench, listening to the sounds of birds, an oasis of serenity in the bustling city. She was going to miss Buenos Aires, the people, the food, everything about the city. But, it was time for her to go. With Moreno's men after her and who knew how many more of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s former enemies gunning for her, she needed to leave as soon as she could.

She had already stayed far too long.

Once she'd finished the job with Steve, she needed to leave.

Then, the questions remained.

Go where?

Do what?

She was at a crossroads in her life, just like the time she was offered the opportunity to train with S.H.I.E.L.D. rather than go to jail. She needed a new purpose in life. She needed to decide her next move.

And then there was Steve himself. As hurt and betrayed as she felt over his actions to bring down S.H.I.E.L.D., the same actions that had left her beaten and battered, she had to admit that since he met her, he'd saved her life multiple times. He had protected her and watched out for her. She'd only known him for four days and she'd never felt this way for anyone else. And it wasn't just that he was handsome or brave or kind or sweet or generous.

I love him, she thought.

She gulped as she admitted it, even to herself.

She had felt a weight lift from her the night before, when she had finally told Steve what had happened to her. It felt like one of the last barriers between them had crumbled. As emotionally wrecked as she had been, it felt cleansing to have everything out in the open, to fully explain what had held her back from admitting her feelings for him.

What was it that Pablo had said? That we weren't our worst actions, she thought. She wasn't the worst thing that she had done, not by a long shot. Steve deserved the same mercy, the same forgiveness that she did. She had done some horrible things in her life. She had lied. She had stolen. She had even killed when necessary as an agent. If she was deserving of grace, Steve was, too. Didn't everyone deserve a second chance?

She felt the tears well up in her eyes, but she wasn't going to cry. The time for tears was over. She was huddled over on the park bench, her face in her hands, trembling as she held them back.

She sat there for several minutes, closing her eyes, reeling from all that had happened.

She didn't notice the birds singing. She didn't notice the wind on her face. She didn't notice the people passing by.

She didn't notice the contingent of Pavlov's men as they crept up behind her.