•{Condemned}• 2

{6}•Vienna•

[6] •Vienna•

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EL HAD found Steve standing in the stairwell, his face in his hand, leaning against the railing. She had stood for a moment, considering leaving him be. She never had to comfort anyone before, not that she could remember at least. This was out of her depth.

Even so, she forced herself forward, cautiously wrapping her arms around him and to her surprise, he hadn't pulled away. Peggy had represented his entire life during the 40s. And she was gone.

                          >>^^<<^^>>

"That was a plot twist," Sam murmurs as he and El saunter out of the cathedral leaving Steve to speak to Nat.

She breathes a sigh, thinking back to Sharon Carter. "Yeah." She hesitates. "He didn't deserve any of this."

He nods. He glances down at the girl. "He'll be alright, El."

"I know," she replies quickly. She glances up, JB trotting over from the pillar she had left him at before the ceremony. She had insisted he come. She didn't know how long she had left with him.

She comes to a halt and the older man looks back at her with a raised eyebrow. "I need to sign those papers."

He exhales dramatically, resisting an eye roll. He opens his mouth to argue but she cuts him off. "Please Sam. This is my choice. I need you to convince him."

He holds up his hands. "No way. I'm not getting involved in this."

She narrows her eyes.

"In what?"

The pair turn, Nat and Steve walking towards them, hands in their pockets. She rakes a hand through her hair. She doesn't want to put this on Steve, at least not right now. "Nothing."

"El."

She swallows. "I need to sign the Accords."

His expression drops, his gaze flitting away, irritated. "We've talked about this."

Her brows pull together. "No, you talked at me."

He mimics her frown, dipping his head. "Elena," he warns. He's tired, she can see that. "You're not signing them."

The girl turns to Nat who flashes her a look of sympathy, but to her disappointment doesn't come to her aid. Instead, she steps forward, giving the teen a brief embrace. "I'm not saying you should," she says quietly, "But if you were to, you can't come to Vienna, I'm not sure it would go down well. I can speak on your part. We'll figure it out, El."

The Russian gives a small nod to Sam and they start their walk back to the car. Her stomach twists at the thought of the girl she thought of as a daughter behind bars. But she doesn't want a life on the run for her either. And for the first time in years, the woman finds herself unable to think of a way out.

"I need to do this, Steve," El presses once Nat and Sam are out of ear shot.

The man runs his hands over his face, his expression contorting. "You don't. And you won't."

"Will you at least listen to me?" She raises her voice. He sighs, turning back to face her. She releases a breath, calming herself. "I can't give them their brothers, sisters, children or parents back. But I can give them this. I can give them some justice. Maybe even peace."

"It wasn't your fault."

"That doesn't matter. I still did it."

He stares at her with sad eyes. "We can run."

"They'd find us."

"No, they wouldn't."

"Steve, please," she takes a step towards him. "I have never had any control over my life or my decisions. Please let me make this choice on my own."

He presses his lips together. Steve Rogers is known as a righteous and honest man. And he considers himself as one. But when it comes to his family, or his friends, he's selfish. He knows this. But the thought of losing her, like he lost Peggy and Buck, it kills him. He doesn't think he can survive another loss. Maybe that's why he directs his anger at the teen. "You're fifteen. You need an adult to sign off on it."

She hesitates. She hadn't wanted to bring it up. "My biological family are still alive. My mother can sign it."

He stares at her blankly. "You found them?"

"Tony did. Before we left." She clears her throat, her voice shaky.

"El," he begins, no conviction left in his tone.

She forces a smile. "You've given me enough. I got to have a life. But if I don't do this, I'm no better than them."

He holds her gaze silently. He knows she's right. It doesn't make it any easier, for either of them. She blows an amused breath as JB squeezes between them, whining. "Look after J, for me," she smiles, scratching the dog.

He clenched his jaw. Even if he wants to, which he does, he has no say anymore. Not over her mother at least. He can only hope her mother will try and talk her out of it.

El looks up, Sharon sauntering out of the church. She offers Steve a small smile, turning to walk over to Sam.

                           >>^^<<^^>>

She sits on the edge of the hotel bed, JB's head on her lap. She grinds her jaw absently, playing with the small card in her hand, her mother's phone number written across it. "Will you pass me my phone, please?"

Sam digs her phone out of her open suitcase and tosses it to her. Nervously, she turns it on.

Shit.

"What day is today?"

"Thursday. Why?"

"I was supposed to meet Katelyn," she groans, her head falling into her hands.

Sam laughs. "You realise that the Avengers are breaking up and you're facing a lifetime in prison right?"

She shoots him a pointed look. She opens the messages from her friend, a mixture of disappointment and anger. She breathes a long sigh, cursing herself. Sam's right. She has bigger problems. She types a quick text.

I'm really sorry, Katelyn. Something came up. I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll explain when I'm home.

She knows it won't ease her friend's annoyance towards her, but it's the best she can offer. She opens the keypad in her phone, her thumb hovering over the numbers.

Then something on the TV grabs her attention.

"More than 70 people have been injured. At least twelve are dead, including Wakanda's King T'Chaka. Officials have released a video of the suspects who they have identified as James Buchanan Barnes, the Winter Soldier and Elena Johnson, also a known and credited HYDRA agent. Both are linked to numerous acts of terrorism and political assassinations."

She blinks, her eyes still fixed on the screen.

Fuck.