Phantom ▷ b. barnes [1] ✔️

xxv. expiration date

"They say that we're out of control and some say we're sinners. But don't let them ruin our beautiful rhythms." -- Fire on Fire, Sam Smith

~ ~ ~

SSR headquarter planned to host a celebration regarding the most recent takedown of the Belgium Hydra base. The war still raged on and Sam had mixed feelings about the idea, but it was happening, no matter how she felt. 

Meg, on the other hand, was a squealing ball of excitement.

"The nurses found a ballroom to rent," she babbled, smiling from ear to ear. They sat in the coffeeshop near headquarter, a little haven for the two. "It's a suit and tie kind of event. We need to get dresses, Sammy! I'll let Peggy know and we can go shopping together..."

Sam checked out at some point around then. She adored the girl with all her heart, but other things invaded her mind. For the past three weeks, she'd been meeting Howard to run tests and give blood samples as he attempted to figure out her situation. So far, they'd had no such luck.

He'd given her until Christmas. 

He'd urged her to tell the others. Mostly, Meg. Sam had noticed he'd begun to speak of the woman with a light in his eyes and smile on his lips. She deserved to know, he'd tell her. She didn't deserve to be kept in the dark.

Sam had wallowed in guilt for the past three weeks. Not just because of not telling Meg, but because of not telling anyone. 

Not Steve, not Dugan. Not the other Commandos, or... or Bucky.

Their time together had been scarce since the mission. She hated herself for it, unable to even look him in the eye. Because she'd told herself no. She'd sworn herself to her oaths. 

And then she'd fallen for him.

So, how could she tell him she was dying? After everything they'd been through, every promise they'd made? He'd given her his trust and she'd give him an expiration date.

It wouldn't be fair. It wasn't fair.

"Oh, and we could look for shoes! I swear, London has the absolute best shops in the entire world. What do you think, Sammy? Sammy?"

Sam blinked, snapping back to reality. Gazing at Meg, it was obvious she hadn't been listening, biting her lip apologetically. The woman frowned.

"Sam, I swear, you've been distant ever since you got back. What happened out there?"

"Nothing, nothing. I'm fine.

Meg didn't look convinced, her face tightening. "I worry about you every damn time you leave, Sammy. It's dangerous out there. One of these days, you're not going to come back. You're going to leave me again, but this time... This time..."

"Meg," Sam said softly. "I can handle myself."

"Because getting captured months ago was you handling yourself so well."

Sam flinched like she'd been slapped. Schmidt's face flashed before her eyes. His snarl, his jeers. She gripped her coffee cup tighter, breaths coming out a little faster.

Across from her, Meg's face morphed into one of horror and she clapped her hands over her mouth. "Sammy, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean it, it just slipped out." Her eyes swam. "I just... I just worry, every time. You're my family, Sam. I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Meg," Sam closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. Her heart-- it was like something was wrong with her heart. "It's okay. I'm--"

"Sammy?"