And look where your desperation had gotten you, crouched in a dirty alley, back pressed against a brick wall, praying to whatever god was wiling to listen that you had successfully escaped the men chasing after you. A quick glance down confirmed what you had feared, your arm – the metal one was fried beyond repair, the damage far worse then anything you would be able to fix all alone, stuck in a stupid alley.

Seeing the state of your arm made the fear in your gut grow, whoever these men were they had come prepared, taking out your main advantage before the fight had fully begun. You arm had been made to withhold nearly anything and were you not in so much pain you would have been impressed that they knew how to break it in such maner, but right now you were annoyed and more then a little frightened.

The serum rushing through your veins did very little in terms of dulling the amount of pain you were currently in and you could feel the initial rush of adrenaline wearing off, forced to bite your tongue to stop yourself from crying out in order to avoid gaining attention or even worse revealing your location to the same men you were so desperately trying to outrun.

It seemed that whatever short period of rest the alley had been able to provide would soon be broken as the sound of approaching footsteps reached your hiding spot. Years of practice made you leap to your feat, your teeth grinding as the sudden movement made another stab of pain run through your injured arm, black spots blurring your vision.

By the time your vision somewhat cleared and you were able to once again focus on your surrondings, there were three of the men rounding the corner, their guns drawn and pointed in your direction. It took you barely a moment to absorb the scene and act accordingly, once again driven by pure instinct as you charged at them, knocking the guns from two of the men and ducking just in time to avoid getting hit by the bullet shot by the third.

The closest man lunged and you barely had time to react, stepping to the side at the last minute and grasping at his hair as he passed, using the man's momentum to throw him aside, his head hitting the brick wall you had been pressed against less then a few minutes ago. The second came at you before you had a chance to even straighten yourself, bending your injured arm with enough force that it made you cry out in agony, a wail that would without doubt drag even more unwanted attention your way.

Trapped, you struggled to move away, desperation kicking in as you blindly hit in his direction, only to receive another blow to you side as his hold on you tightened. "Now, now, that's enough of that soldat.", he reprimanded you, as out of breath as you felt, his voice more dissapointed then angry, similiar to that of an owner trying to control a disobedient puppy and way too smug for your liking.

"What a coincidence, I happen to agree, that is quite enough of that.", a new voice rang out, shrill and sudden, quickly followed by the sound of a gun going off, the man's grip faltering just enough for you to slip out of it. However, the respite didn't last long as he pulled you back by your hair, swiftly turning you around so you stood between him and the new arrival, shielding himself from whoever it was that seemingly came to your aid.

"Now, I was going to wait until we were in a more controlled environment but what can I say? I'm nothing if not flexible.", the man behind you took a shallow breath as if preparing himself, "Желание." No, no, no! "Семнадцать. Ржав-" Bang.

You felt it before you heard it, sharp pain through your middle, unmistakable and far too familiar. Whoever it was that came to your rescue shot the man holding you, straight through you.

No longer held back, you swayed on your feet, closing your eyes as you prepared yourself for the harsh fall. But the action proved to be unnecessary as strong arms wrapped themselves around your waist, pulling you into their side and taking the worst of the impact as your weight took them down with you.

"Sorry about that.", the voice was much closer now, softer then it had been earlier, familiar, your groggy mind added.

Every cell in your body screamed for you to stay down, to rest, that you were safe now but you fought against it, pained moans falling from your lips as you tried to crawl as far away as you could. It was only when you opened your eyes that you stopped, the hood that had been pulled over your savior's head had fallen down sometimes during your struggle and your fuzzy brain was finally able to recognize the person in front of you.

"Sharon?", you croaked out, confusion obvious in your voice, whoever it was you had expected to see, it sure as hell wasn't Sharon Carter. "Hell of a reunion, am I right?", she replied, pulling herself from the ground, her voice teasing but visibly hesitant as she approached you, hands in front of her as a clear sign that she meant no further harm.

The gesture was clearly more for your sake then out of fear, there wasn't much fight left in you, the ease with which she had stood up made it obvious your earlier attempt at getting away from her had only hurt you, it made your lip twitch in an attempt to smile.

She stopped walking a small distance away from you, her gaze questioning, and it was only when you gave her a nod that she moved closer, crouching next to you, swiftly taking off her hoddie, doing her best to tie it around you tight enough to stop the blood flow. "It won't help for long but it should be good enough until I get you to my apartment to patch it up.", she mumbled and you were unsure whether she was saying it for your benefit or hers.

You looked up at her then down to the makeshift bandage which was seeping with more blood, your face paling at the sight. "You sure about that?"

"Yes.", she stood back up, her grip on your shoulders firm but gentle as she pulled you to your feet, quick to position herself in a way that let her support most of your body weight, which was a good thing as you weren't sure you wouldn't have just fallen back to the ground if she didn't.

You were dead on your feet, barely able to keep your eyes fully open by the time you both reached her car, Sharon's talking the only that kept you somewhat awake. You could't quite tell what she was saying but her voice gave you something to focus on which you were extremely grateful for.

›⠀he has nightmares often, ones where it's your dead body he finds burried in the rubble of sokovia. he does his best to hide them from you, not wanting you to worry, but you recognize the signs and are quick to do your best to comfort him. you stay by his side each night, patient and gentle as you hold him in your arms, his tears soaking through your shirt. you find that your voice brings him comfort so you talk to him, your voice barely above a whisper as you tell him how much you love him.

›⠀he wakes before you each morning to make you your favorite breakfast, quiet as a mouse as he cooks so he doesn't wake you by accident. more often then not, he brings it to you in bed, waking you up with a gentle kiss and a "good morning my love" whispered against your lips.

༐⠀he tries to hand feed you a few times, even going so far to pout when you don't let him but you remind him that while you might be carrying a baby it doesn't mean you need to be fed like one.

›⠀he always stays by your side when you get morning sickness, rubbing your back, holding your hair, grabbing you a cracker and making a cup of tea as soon as you feel good enough to try and eat. the first few times he calls a doctor to check up on you, just in case it's something other then morning sickness making your sick. you have to convince him to stop, that it's normal to feel sick and that both you and the baby are perfectly healthy.

›⠀one day you ask him to teach you a few sokovian lullabies, you've tried googling them but couldn't get the pronunciation right on your own. he knows a handful od them but is more then happy to find even more with you, patient and only a little teasing as you butcher the language.

༐⠀he may or may not have a few videos of you practicing hidden on his phone, taken when you didn't notice.

›⠀you read every baby book you can get your hands on and with Zemo's resources it's fair to say that's quite a lot of baby books to go through. he makes sure to read all of the books with you, he's done this before but it has been a while and he wants to make sure everything he does is right.

›⠀the first time the baby kicks you yelp out, surprised, he's cooking at the time but drops everything and rushes to your side, panicking and worrying that you're in pain and that something's wrong. he only calms down when you take his hand and place it on your bump, the look of panic on his face replaced with a look of awe as he feels the tiniest kick against his palm.

›⠀he insists on getting about ten copies of your first ultrasound. not to share with others, no, but to have one copy for every single wallet he owns.

༐⠀you can't prove it but you're sure he gets more copies made behind your back because they are everywhere.

›⠀he hires people to baby proof each of the properties he owns, even the ones you are most likely never going to visit.

༐⠀which includes but is not limited to a house in barcelona that wasn't even furnished before, an apartment in madripoor which you swear you will never let your baby set a foot in and a legitimate castle. because of-freaking course he has one of those.

So, what was it about seeing you after all those years that made her slip up, her oh so carefully crafted mask cracking the moment she recognized you, standing less then ten feet away from her in the middle of her art gallery. You, one of the few people she had never dared to let herself imagine seeing again, at least not without prison bars separating you.

If she was her old self, she would have rushed to your side, quick to pull you into a welcoming hug, a dazzled smile on her face as she faced you. Instead she found herself lowering in her seat, her fingertips growing numb from the way she held on to her glass of bourbon, refusing to so much as send another glance your way.

Coward, her subconscious, unhelpfully called her out, that little voice inside of her head beggining to sound more and more like your voice, suspiciously so, the longer she tried to ignore it.

Given more time, she might have gotten enough courage to walk over to your side, to greet you, maybe even to offer you a drink and a tour of her gallery. As it was, you beat her to it, sliding into the seat in front of her, a drink in your hand and a warm smile on your face as you greeted her.

"Hi, haven't seen you in a while", damn it, she had wanted to say something clever, for the first thing spoken between you two to be something meaningful. But once again her mind betrayed her and she ended up speaking the first thing that came to mind, the second actually, thankfully her brain decided to have some mercy on her and kept the 'you look even lovelier then I remember' to itself.

Thankfully, you laughed it off, either not noticing her awkwardness or too polite to point it out, or possibly just used to her odd behavior. It had actually been a very poorly hidden secret back at SHIELD that Sharon had a huge tiny crush on you, the usually calm and collected agent Carter, quick to become a bumbling mess when speaking to you – and apparently Sharon found the years of no contact did little to no good in relieving her of that particular habit.

She could not quite tell how much time has passed, the akward silence between the two of you painfully obvious, there is a quiet song playing in the gallery but it only served to make the silence between you two more apparent. Taking a long sip of your drink, a few more seconds went by before you spoke up, "Sam gave me a call a few days ago, told me about seeing you... I wanted to see you, see if you were okay."

Maybe it would prove to be a foolish hope but Sharon can't help but smile at that, it had only been three days since she had seen Sam, the idea of you coming here so quickly after only to see her, check up on her well being, it makes her happier then she had been in a long time.

"I'm glad you're here", she offered, not missing a beat, too scared to stay quiet, to let that akward silence grow between you once again. "I missed you these past few years." A lot, she wanted to add.

"I missed you too", you blurted out, your lips pulled into a beaming smile, one that let Sharon finally relax in her seat, a much more genuine smile appearing on her own face as well. "You could stay for a while? If you want to?" She offered, a slight, barely noticeable tremble of her voice betraying her nerves.

"I-", you paused, a thoughtful expression crossing your face. "Do you want me to stay?"

"I do!", This time, Sharon was the one that blurted out her answer, her eyes growing comically wide, a deep flush immediately blooming over her cheeks, the gallery's music nowhere loud enough to cover up the obvious enthusiasm in her voice, at the mere idea of you not leaving the town too soon.

"What I mean-", you were quick to cut her off, your own cheeks heating up as you noticed people around you glancing your way. "Guess I'll stay for a bit then, at least until you get bored of me."

"I don't think I could grow bored of you", Sharon stuttered pathetically through the response, her voice gentle despite how vulnerable talking to you made her feel, how pathetically easily and quickly your mere presence made her slip into her old self, something she had thought swore to herself long ago would never happen.

She quickly noticed how you brightened up at her words, seemingly pleased with her response. And her traitorous mind couldn't help but relish in your reaction, happy to know that despite how much both of you had changed, maybe the two of you still had a chance.