Coming Down ➢ Steve Rogers

thirty six

Chapter Thirty-Six

For the most part, their journey was silent.

Delaney sat in the back with Bucky, her head against the headrest and her eyes closed. Her thoughts remained miles away, in Germany, still connected to those she had left behind.

She hadn't contacted them. She hadn't been able to bring herself to face the consequences of their actions. Though deep down she knew this had been the only option available to them, another part of her was angry, and so certain there was an alternative.

You're a coward, Delaney Esquivel. Delaney hit herself mentally.

Delaney felt like she had left half of her heart behind her. She'd do anything to turn around and save the others. Anything at all, just to ensure they were safe.

We're not giving up on them. Remember? We finish this job. We return to make sure they're okay, and rescue them if need be. We brought this on them. We won't leave them to suffer for it.

Delaney sighed and slowly opened her eyes. The interior of the Quinjet was small, and only made her feel more isolated despite her close proximity to the other nearby men. Outside, there was nothing but a constant stretch of dark sky: the rolling clouds like an omen of what was to come, and a sign of what they had left behind.

In both cases: a huge, destructive storm.

"What's going happen to your friends?" Bucky asked quietly.

Delaney bit her lip. "Knowing Ross, I doubt it's pretty."

Delaney saw Steve's clutch on the controls tighten. "We'll deal with it. Whatever it is."

Delaney shuddered. In this case, the unknown was the most terrifying prospect. She felt like she was in the ocean, lost with a boat capsized, imagining what sort of creatures could be lurking beneath the surface. Only in this case, the beast was what could have been imposed on her friends.

Sam, so dedicated and loyal – he'd been in this from the beginning, but they'd left him.

Clint? Her oldest friend? He'd always been there for her. Now, when he needed her most, she couldn't return the favour.

Wanda? She was only in her late teens, practically a child. What would they do to her? She'd been damaged enough already. Did they have it in their hearts to treat her like an animal?

And Scott – he hadn't even been an Avenger. They'd dragged him into this, and now he was paying the consequences for their actions.

Delaney's hands formed fists, her knuckles turning white and muscles straining.

Yeah, the unknown was definitely the worst point of this, for her mind kept conjuring images that were more terrifying and horrifying than the last.

Bucky lowered his gaze. "I don't know if I'm worth all this, Steve."

"What you did all those years... It wasn't you. You didn't have a choice."

"I know. But I did it."

Delaney shifted so slightly in her seat. She looked at Bucky, really looked at him, and for a moment it was like she had been punched.

For in that moment she saw herself in Bucky, and he in herself, and she knew right then that she could reach out to him and understand in a way no one else ever could.

She combed her hair with her hand repetitively, the constant action soothing.

"You know, Bucky," she said quietly, "You can't let that forge who you are today."