salvation ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟐

017. make him remember

FOR MY FIRST time on a super technologically-advanced plane...jet...thing, I had to admit that it was pretty cool. That is, except for the fact that a certain pair suddenly felt the need to capitalize on their unfortunate history as a romantic couple.

Steve, having somewhat revived his usual energy after losing all hope during his containment by the CIA, began to talk to Cara, subsequently annoying her rather incredibly. From my side of things, it didn't seem like he was doing much of anything besides looking at her in a way that Cara defined as "wrong."

It wasn't a look of love, or lust, not really...it was more of a look of guilt. What he had to be guilty for, I had no idea. Both of them refused to tell me when I asked. Cara told me that it wasn't that important anyway, and Steve told me that it wasn't his place to say anything about it.

I really hoped Bucky and I would never reach such an awkward stage.

Oh, but even the thought of having to break up with him, though it tugged at my heart, gave me a small breath of relief. Because if I was able to break up with him and we were able to pursue such an uncomfortable friendship, then that meant I would get him back. And I had to get him back.

"Hey, what are you thinking about?"

I was jolted from my thoughts, my brother hovering over me. Sitting in a soft space cordoned off for, well, sitting, I hadn't bothered to get up after we'd gotten all the way into the air, like everyone else had. My thoughts had dragged me into a state of something like paralysis, it seemed.

"Uh," I shook my head to clear it, "nothing. Just...wondering what happened between Cara and Steve," I lied, my eyes catching onto Cara's back as she paced through the space with Nat, heading to another room.

Oh yeah, this thing was huge. Fucking massive.

Above me, Cade shrugged, following my line of sight towards the brunette. "Your guess is as good as mine," he offered, though from the tone of voice he was using, I could tell that he wasn't here to discuss the Cara-Steve relationship roller coaster. So I patted the spot next to me and invited him to join me.

When he did, I crossed my arms. "What did your reports say?" I asked, just quiet enough that no one around us would hear.

He shifted uncomfortably. "What are you talking about?"

I rolled my eyes and tried to keep my cool. "Cade, don't do that with me. What did the reports say after you faked your death?"

"Oh," he inhaled, "um, I don't really know. It wasn't like I could approve my own obituary," he said with a small grin at an attempt to make me smile.

But little did he know, I was sick of not getting any answers when I asked for them. "I'm not fucking around, Cade. Mom and Dad never showed me the reports, and I think I deserve to know what was on them."

Cade frowned, using a hand to gesture to himself. "But I'm back. I'm here," he said, grabbing my hand with his own. "What does it matter?"

"If you keep avoiding the subject, that's only gonna make it sound like there's something really bad on it," I removed my hand from his grip and stared at him pointedly. "Seriously, get on with it."

He sighed, pushing a hand through his mop of hair. "Fine," he conceded, "but you're gonna hate it. I promise, I had nothing to do with it. They just came up with it, all on their own."

"You're stalling," I sighed. "Out with it."

He looked down at his lap and puffed out a breath from his lips, mumbling something to himself. Clasping his hands together, he composed himself and opened his eyes, though he didn't look at me when he answered. "They said that I killed myself. That the job was too much for my mental state."