Upstate New York, USA

Spring 2016

"Want me to get rid of him?" Steve glanced over to Nadine at her dry murmur as she settled on the orange couch to his right. There was no need to specify whom she meant; Ross was a rather divisive figure to the Team right at the moment. She handed him the Accords document even as she gave him a wan grin. "I do know a good assassin..." He chuckled, his sober expression easing slightly as he looked to the thick document in his hands. Across from Nadine, Natasha looked up, her own faint grin teasing at her lips.

"Tempting," Steve murmured absently back as he began skimming through the book in his hands. The uneasy flutter in Nadine's chest wasn't eased even if her grin grew just a touch less grim. He spared her an assessing glance. "Was it really a good idea to go after Ross like that," he asked softly, careful to keep his question between the two of them. Not that it was difficult considering the volume of the debate between Rhodes and Sam going on behind him. Nadine inhaled deeply, her eyes falling to the coffee table for a moment as she considered before looking back to him. He was still watching her. She shrugged, her expression nevertheless unrepentant.

"Someone had to," she answered back just as quietly, "the man is two steps short of actively campaigning to lock up the Avengers. Especially Wanda. It was quite clear he sees you all as little more than criminals. He is very much not a fan."

"And challenging him like that helped?" he countered with a raised brow. She nearly smiled at the way the corner of his mouth twitched in concert with the faint glimmer in his eyes. She cocked her head minutely in thought.

"He needed the reminder that we're not the kinds of people he wants to try walking all over," she said, a cool edge seeping into her tone. But then a small, pleased look spread across her face. "Besides," she added smugly, lifting her elbow to rest casually across the arm of the couch, "it was a little bit fun." A small huff escaped Steve as he looked back to the document in his hands. And as Nadine's gaze fell to the blue-bound book, her grin faded along with the momentary cheer her quiet conversation with Steve had brought.

Not that the argument going on behind Steve was helping matters any. Next to Natasha, Tony had slumped back against the arm of their couch, his hand tented over his face. His faintly twisted features betrayed what Nadine suspected was likely a tension headache developing behind the billionaire's eyes. She could sympathize.

Ross and his presentation of the Accords and their imminent implementation had left them all a little unbalanced.

Okay, perhaps more than a little in some cases.

"Secretary Ross has a Congressional Medal of Honor," Rhodes was defending to Sam, the former paratrooper having challenged the Colonel's staunch defence of his willingness to support the Accords with a commendably—to Nadine's mind—scathing retort about the now absent Secretary of State, "which is one more than you have."

"He's also the one who ran Banner off after his irradiation and worked to convince anyone who would listen that he was no more than property of the US Military instead of a human being with rights," Nadine muttered under her breath, earning a thin-lipped glance from her sister. Not that the look in her sister's eyes said she entirely disagreed.

"So let's say we agree to this thing," Sam had continued, having obviously not heard Nadine. "How long is it gonna be before they LoJack us like a bunch of common criminals?" Nadine fought to keep her hands from fisting.

That was definitely something she was worried about. For all the rationale behind the Accords—after all, Nadine could cede that, of the options the Avengers were left with, it was likely the best one—that was one aspect that concerned her

One of many things...like the registration requirement...

And she obviously wasn't the only one. She met first her sister's then Steve's eye, understanding passing between the three of them, all three bearing worried and veiled expressions masking similar apprehension over the idea. Call her jaded, but Nadine had long ago learned to be wary of being dictated to by a faceless—and sometimes not so faceless—bureaucratic authority. Especially when the consequences for disobeying fell along the lines of forced retirement or 'retirement.'

"One hundred and seventeen countries want to sign this," Rhodes objected impatiently, "One hundred and seventeen countries, Sam, and you're just like, 'No, that's cool. We got it.'" Nadine bit back a sigh at the Colonel's point. Because it was a valid one. Whether it was a good point or not, she was undecided, but considering it was the UN? The UN wasn't HYDRA. It wasn't S.H.I.E.L.D.. It wasn't the World Security Council. It was the United Nations. Yet the flutter of unease she was using to help gauge her own openness to the idea of the Accords was still going strong. She just...didn't know...

...No, that was wrong...she did know. She just knew it would have unpleasant consequences she was dreading having to face.

Sam was unmoved. "How long are you going to play both sides?" the former paratrooper challenged. But Rhodes didn't have a chance to respond, the two soldiers getting interrupted almost as soon as Sam's question was delivered.

"I have an equation." Everyone paused to look to Vision. From her chair between where the synthezoid sat next to Nadine and where Stark had thrown himself down next to Natasha, Wanda looked up from the ball she had curled into while Pietro straightened from where he effectively stood sentinel leaning against his twin's armchair. From where he stood over beside Nat, Nadine heard Sam scoff, both spies glancing to the former paratrooper.

"Oh, this will clear it up," Sam muttered, sparing a look to Rhodes as the two of them shifted their attention to Vision.

Vision, meanwhile, didn't fidget in the slightest under the sudden scrutiny or the tension among his teammates, his pensive features taking in everyone in turn as he elaborated. "In the eight years since Mr. Stark announced himself as Iron Man, the number of known Enhanced persons has grown exponentially," he said, "And during the same period, the number of potentially world-ending events has risen at a commensurate rate."

The flutter in Nadine's stomach twisted faintly. She hadn't considered that. For all that the interest and mixed success in creating Enhanced persons had been around for a long time—Steve, Erskine and Johann Schmitt during WWII prime examples of just how far back the interest had been acted upon, not to mention Barnes, herself and the Treatment Program—she had to admit that events like New York, Greenwich and Sokovia had been all but unheard of until very recently indeed. And the frequency of such events did seem to be increasing.

"Are you saying it's our fault?" Nadine glanced to Steve at his question, frowning faintly. It was hard to tell what he felt about the statement, sounding more curious if Vision believed as much over worried that it might be true. Not that there wasn't a measure of unease layered beneath that curiosity, the flicker of realization and its accompanying dismay in his eyes as he watched Vision contemplate making that clear.

"I'm saying there may be a causality," Vision clarified. Nadine inhaled deeply as Vision paused, though whether for effect or to decide how best to continue, she was unsure...likely the latter; Vision wasn't terribly prone to intentional theatrics. Whichever it was, there was no mistaking his sincerity or the gravity of his reasoning. "Our very strength invites challenge. Challenge incites conflict. And conflict...breeds catastrophe. Oversight..." once more Vision paused, deciding how best to convey the solemnity of his argument. "Oversight is not an idea that can be dismissed out of hand."

"Boom," Rhodes murmured over Nadine's left shoulder. Nadine's eyes lowered to her loosely clasped hands, unable to deny that Vision had a point.

They all had points in favour of the Accords. And against.

Even Ross, much as she might like to deny it, hadn't been entirely wrong, though his presentation had left a great deal to be desired.

The Accords really did seem to be a middle ground. The best of a bad situation. And, much as she hated to admit it, she wasn't sure she could see any other viable options. Not for the Team. Because she just couldn't see them going rogue. Not all of them. Not if the UN was involved.

"Tony?" Nadine looked up at the sound of her sister's voice, her attention automatically zeroing in on Stark as his hand fell from his face. He looked so weary, she noted with a pang. A faint grin tugged at Natasha's lips as she too looked to the billionaire. "You're being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal," Natasha prompted, her tone fond yet teasing even as it was serious. The corner of Tony's mouth twitched and Nadine felt her own lips threaten to curl even as she studied his features; she couldn't entirely read him in that moment. There was a measure of...what she tentatively identified as conflict and perhaps determination there, but she couldn't quite pinpoint it. At least, until Steve's resigned voice cut in as he realized what the look on Stark's face meant.

"It's because he's already made up his mind." And Nadine's frown returned at the thread of accusation in the Captain's voice.

"Boy, you know me so well," Stark murmured dryly as he rolled gingerly up to a sitting position, wincing as his hand rose once more to his head before he got to his feet. "Actually, I'm nursing an electromagnetic headache." Nadine was nearly tempted to roll her eyes at Stark's dramatics, save for the unconscious cues that he wasn't entirely exaggerating his discomfort. Though, Nadine suspected it had less to do with a physical pain than one of conscience. Looking to her sister, she had a feeling she was on the right track. For all that there was an indulgent cast to Natasha's features, there was a genuine concern there. Not to mention a rather knowing expression in her sister's green eyes. Everyone had turned to Stark as he made his way over to the kitchenette. Nadine eased over as Rhodes settled next to her, leaning on the arm of the couch and watching his friend intently.

"That's what's going on, Cap," Tony continued as he snatched up a mug and peered into the sink. "It's just pain. It's discomfort. Who's putting coffee grounds in the disposal?" Nearly everyone blinked in either confusion, exasperation or consideration at the abrupt change in topic. "Am I running a bed and breakfast for a biker gang?" Once more, the temptation to roll her eyes emerged, but Nadine's eyes narrowed instead as she recognized the defensive, even reactionary root of the general admonishment. There was so much...guilt bubbling up in Tony. The inane comment was a typical way of Tony's to give him a moment to gather himself. Which meant that he had something particularly substantial on his mind.

It was at that moment Nadine realized Steve was right.

She didn't even have to see the photo of Charles Spencer he pulled up to show them or hear Tony explain the significance of the boy...to him, to them, though her chest had clenched painfully when Stark revealed Spencer had been killed during their final battle against Ultron.

As soon as she'd seen the almost dismayed, pleading flicker in his eyes as he'd shot them all a hard look before he'd pulled out his phone, before she'd even heard the way he'd vacillated between defensive, sarcastic, distressed, angry, scathing and...and sad as he'd made his own point to compliment Vision's, she'd known.

For all his theatricality, Nadine wasn't sure if she'd ever seen Stark so serious nor so unsettled. Not even during the Ultron Fiasco.

This was what Tony believed he needed to do, what they all needed to do. He genuinely seemed to believe that this was the right choice, the responsible choice. That it was a small way to at least try to make amends, even, both on his part and the Team's. It was then that Nadine realized just how mired by guilt Tony still was over the events of Sokovia. How scarred. How...frightened he was. And honestly? Her heart ached for him. Close or not, she could not only sympathize with the man, but feel for him as well. It was an echo of what she'd contemplated during the Ultron Fiasco; Tony was not meant to be a soldier. He might act it, he might even be good at it, but at heart he was...he was a builder, a fixer. He lived to fix things and since sometimes the only way to do that in the world he was a part of was with a fight, he threw himself into the fray without hesitation. But the weight of the fight and the cost of that fight weighed heavily on him and he didn't wholly know how to deal with it. He was struggling to find a way to fix the damage he'd done...the damage they'd all done.

Because it didn't just weigh heavily on Stark. It weighed on all of them, the cost of their determination to save the world, to be the first and last line of defence. She knew it did.

So maybe...maybe he was right. There was no doubting he believed it. And as the weight of his words and the reminder of the very human cost of their battles and the irresponsible choices that Tony and the Team as a whole had made in the past settled over the room, there was no doubt that Nadine wasn't the only one to feel it. The guilt and remorse was nearly tangible between them all. Nadine let out a long, slow breath, easily recognizing the same feelings of grief and regret twisting in her own gut on the downcast faces and tensed jaws of everyone around her.

Stark's features hardened, an almost fervent, even frantic light coming to his eyes as his voice grew sharp and definitive. "There's no decision-making process here," he said, almost sounding his normal self again after his emotion-filled speech, only for his voice to grow emphatic and determined as he leaned against the counter facing them, his arms crossing authoritatively across his chest. "We need to be put in check! Whatever form that takes, I'm game." Nadine bit back a sad sigh at the change in the normally irreverent and cocky Avenger. There was no artifice, no flippancy, no misdirection. He was painfully serious in his conviction on this. Even his penchant for theatricality was somewhat subdued, or at least, wasn't wholly intentional as it often was with Tony. And it hurt to realize more than she could've expected. "If we can't accept limitations," Tony concluded gravely, the thread of accusation in his tone stinging, "if we're boundary-less, we're no better than the bad guys." As he fell silent, the weight over the room only grew heavier. Because he did have a point, after a fashion, and they all knew it.

"Tony," Steve broke in then, looking up to Tony, "someone dies on your watch, you don't give up." Nadine exchanged a startled look with her sister. A faint frown had settled over her sister's features, her eyes veiled and thoughtful. The unease in her gut intensified. Steve was going to fight this. Nadine fought the urge to swallow thickly, inhaling to speak up herself before Steve had even finished. But Tony beat her to it.

"Who said we're giving up?" Tony countered without missing a beat. Steve glanced back to the document in his hands.

"We are if we're not taking responsibility for our actions," Steve said in response, looking back to Stark, "this document just shifts the blame." Nadine looked up to Rhodes as he shifted next to her, frowning deeply.

"I'm sorry, Steve," the Colonel broke in incredulously, "that... That is dangerously arrogant. This is the United Nations we're talking about." Nadine fought to keep her jaw from clenching as he spoke, her gaze dropping to her hands; that was not the tack to take. "It's not the World Security Council," Rhodes pointed out impatiently, "it's not S.H.I.E.L.D., it's not HYDRA." It was the argument she'd been trying to make with herself. Yet, even hearing someone else say it? It wasn't helping as much as she might have hoped.

And Steve summed the reason why up perfectly: "No, but it's run by people with agendas and agendas change."

That...that was a truth about bureaucracy she knew intimately. And while the UN was definitely not like the World Security Council or S.H.I.E.L.D.—by definition, it was an organization with a mandate to protect the safety of all people first and foremost—it was still, at heart, a political, bureaucratic body. And she'd long since learned to place very little real trust in such bodies, no matter their mandates or intentions.

She looked to Steve, the fervency in his tone surprising her a little. She'd figured he'd likely be of a similar mind as she was on this point, but she hadn't wholly expected him to be quite so impassioned. It left her just as conflicted as before, no matter that she already rationally knew what the Team should do. And what she knew she was going to have to do.

"That's good," Tony broke in, sounding nearly patronizing even as he sounded vaguely defensive. Nadine's attention shifted back to the billionaire as he came to stand next to Steve and Sam, his focus wholly on Steve. "That's why I'm here. When I realized what my weapons were capable of in the wrong hands, I shut it down and stop manufacturing."

Steve turned to meet Tony's scrutiny head on, matching his conviction with his own. Nadine couldn't help but stiffen at the tension building between the two. "Tony," Steve broke in emphatically, barely allowing Tony to finish, "you chose to do that. If we sign this, we surrender our right to choose." Nadine frowned. She wasn't entirely sure that was what the Accords were intended to do, but it certainly was a very real concern.

Tony couldn't hold Steve's gaze, a faint flicker in his expression causing Nadine to sigh heavily. He saw Steve's point. But he was fighting it. He had himself so convinced that this was their only option...he was so determined that this needed to be done and that it needed to be done now. "What if this panel sends us somewhere we don't think we should go?" Steve pressed, no doubt seeing exactly what Nadine had picked up on. He knew Tony much better than she did; there was no way he could have missed it. "What if there is somewhere we need to go, and they don't let us? We may not be perfect, but the safest hands are still our own."

It was a point that visibly—to Nadine, at least...she wasn't sure about everyone else—shook Tony's conviction, even if only minutely. He wasn't sure he could argue against that...but at the same time, neither was he entirely sure it was true anymore. Nadine wasn't sure she could argue it, even with the mistakes in the Team's past. It was part of why she personally believed the Avengers were so important; because they operated independently. Because they had no interest in politics or agendas.

Just in protecting people.

And she knew looking at Stark that it was a mandate he agreed with. It was probably why he changed tactics.

"If we don't do this now, it's gonna be done to us later," he countered softly, pitting a discerning pragmatism—or cynicism, depending on the perspective—he didn't overtly display often against Steve's equally valid points. "That's the fact. That won't be pretty." Irreverent and immature as he might come across a great deal of the time, Tony was not stupid. Nor was he wrong. Nadine knew it in her gut. As much as she didn't like the idea of the Accords, she knew both Ross and Tony were right; they were a compromise. They were a better option than she had honestly been expecting. They looked to bring the Avengers back into a hierarchy they way they had once been with S.H.I.E.L.D. and to reassure people that the Avengers would be taking the field for good reasons. The right reasons. And she could see on Steve's face that he knew it too. Same with her sister. And Sam...and everyone else.

They had been robbed of real options with the Accords being pushed through so quickly.

"You're saying they'll come for me," Wanda broke in then, speaking for the first time since Ross had left...since before Ross had even begun his presentation, even. Nadine's gut clenched at her painfully hollow tone. Next to her Pietro stiffened, a mix of alarm and anger shadowing his features as he looked to Steve, Tony and, to her surprise, Nadine.

"We would protect you," Vision said softly, looking to Wanda. Nadine blinked given that it was him to voice first what they all verged on saying, but couldn't even wholly say she was surprised. A bond had been struck between Wanda and Vision since Sokovia, the synthezoid proving nearly as protective of Wanda at times as Pietro was prone to be. Surprising or not, his quick defence reassured Wanda, and she relaxed against her twin for the first time since they'd sat down, her hand sneaking into Pietro's. Inhaling deeply, the speedster began to relax himself. The tension in the room eased, if only slightly.

"Maybe Tony's right," Natasha broke in then. As they had when Vision had spoken up with his equation, all eyes turned to Natasha with varying degrees of surprise and shock. Even Nadine was taken aback. Though, as her little sister continued, Nadine suddenly understood the veiled, thoughtful cast she had noticed on her sister's features as Tony had taken over the Team's debate over the Accords. "If we have one hand on the wheel," Natasha rationalized as she looked between Steve and Nadine, a knowing glint in her eyes as the two sisters looked to each other revealing that the redhead knew Nadine had seen the same writing on the wall, "we can still steer. If we take it off—"

Sam interrupted, sounding nearly as incredulous as Rhodes had when he'd challenged Steve: "Aren't you the same woman who told the government to kiss her ass a few years ago?" Natasha shot the former paratrooper a faintly pleading look before focusing back on Steve.

"I'm just..." Natasha hesitated for an instant, carefully choosing how best to explain, "reading the terrain. We have made some very public mistakes. We need to win their trust back." Steve glanced from Natasha to Nadine, question silent but clear on his face. All Nadine could do was shrug minutely, enough to convey that she couldn't argue her sister's observation. Working—fighting from within was what they had both been taught to do, so Nadine couldn't fault her sister for seeing that as a viable option. His jaw tightened subtly. Tony, however, was still looking to Natasha, a bit of his familiar light returning to his eyes now that he'd let out what had been weighing on him.

"Focus up," Tony burst out, dark eyes glinting almost mischievously, "I'm sorry, did I just mishear you or did you agree with me?" Not that she'd ever admit it aloud, Nadine was almost relieved even as she bit back a groan at the re-emergence of Tony's more characteristic antics.

One that Natasha's voice clearly echoed as she looked to Tony to see a smug grin tugging at his lips. "Oh, I want to take it back now," she said with a barely restrained grimace. Tony's smirk widened.

"No, no, no," Stark countered, waggling a finger at Natasha, "You can't retract it. Thank you." Natasha shot Nadine a pleading look, but Nadine had nothing to offer, only barely restraining her mingled amusement and exasperation at Stark's self-congratulation. "Unprecedented," he was continuing as he straightened, grinning despite the way Natasha was narrowing her eyes at him, "okay, case closed: I win." Next to Nadine, Steve's lips had thinned, though his features had softened ever so slightly. She took it as a good sign. Just as the muffled snicker from Wanda was encouraging. The tension suffusing the room eased by another degree.

It was then that Tony turned to Nadine. Before she could stop herself, she was tensing in anticipation of the question, and of the reaction to her answer.

"Ryker? What about you? You as reasonable as your sister-in-espionage?" She looked up to Tony, carefully avoiding Steve's eye as she did.

"No. I won't sign."

"Nadine?" She glanced to Natasha, but before her sister could continue, Nadine interrupted her, silently entreating her to understand.

"I'm sorry, lisichka, but I won't," she repeated softly. "I can see where you're coming from—really, I can—"

"Then why were you so antagonistic toward Ross?" Nadine looked to Rhodes as he interrupted her, a frown beginning to form despite his question being one more of curiosity than accusation.

"Because he was probably the worst choice to bring this to the Team?" There was no mistaking her opinion of the former General as her tone turned crisp. "Just about anyone else would've been better. Had someone like the King of Wakanda been the one to make the argument? Someone who doesn't default to labelling us as the problem? Someone who doesn't openly see people like us as weapons that he should have the ability and license to appropriate the way he wanted to with Banner years back? I might have been a little more receptive," she said briskly. "But just because I don't like Ross' motives or trust that the Accords will always do as they are intended doesn't mean I can't see where this is going. Natasha has a point. So does Tony." She paused with a faint sigh, organizing her thoughts. "If you all want to keep doing what you're doing? The Accords are probably your best shot. I'm pragmatic, in case you haven't noticed," she added dryly, earning faint grins and soft chuckles from the rest of the Team, before growing serious again. "Like Ross said, the Accords are going to happen, as is everything that goes with them. It can't be stopped anymore." She shifted, straightening. She finally met Steve's eye, an ache forming in her chest at the faint, unreadable frown creasing his brow as he studied her. There was a trace of sympathy mingling with apprehension there that had her stomach twisting. After a moment, she glanced up to Rhodes, then to Stark and finally to her sister as she continued.

"But I won't because I've already gone through having someone else dictate my missions, forcing me to follow their morals under threat," she knew her carefully collected voice was beginning to grow hard, but she couldn't help that for all that she saw the reason and the merit behind their intent, the Accords as they stood now just sat wrong with her; they brought up too many bad memories, for one, "not allowed to make my own calls while the only thing I hold dear was held over my head. I won't risk letting that happen to me again. I won't sign. Neither will Nina. Besides," she concluded, her voice turning wry, "I can't." Several of the others frowned at the distinction, but it was Rhodes who finally asked.

"Why 'can't'?" Nadine bit back an exasperated sound when she noticed even Natasha looked lost.

"Because of the registration requirement," Nadine elaborated coolly. "Frankly, that's what bothers me the most right now." Across from her, Natasha shifted uncomfortably, immediately recognizing Nadine's reasoning. Between them, Steve inhaled sharply, a measure of understanding coming to his face too...along with a very deep concern. Not everyone else did, however.

"What?" Rhodes asked in confusion even as Stark demanded almost simultaneously: "Why?" Nadine spared Rhodes a glance before turning a challenging look to Stark. To his credit, he didn't flinch under her scrutiny.

"Because unlike all of you, I haven't been outed. Nina definitely hasn't," she said dryly. Only for her nearly amused tone to vanish as she continued impassively: "Because, as far as the world is concerned, I'm either dead or wanted and Nina doesn't exist."

Almost everyone made some sort of confused sound or surprised expression save Vision—who only looked mildly perplexed—and Natasha. Nadine sighed heavily. "You all can't have forgotten that easily...Nadine and Nina Thomson aren't real. Neither were Nadine and Nicola Ryker. Not really. They're covers. Good ones, but still just covers. And despite my best efforts at damage control, the Nadine Ryker one is already all but blown, no thanks to Ultron," she added bitterly. "The Ghost is wanted around the world and not just by legit Intelligence Agencies. Nadya Ivanovna Rykova is dead to most of the world and wanted, preferably dead, to most of those who know otherwise. And Nicola Rykova only exists on a single piece of paper hidden safely away; I went to a lot of trouble to keep it that way. And I did it precisely to avoid what happened with Strucker and Zhirova. I knew she'd be a target simply because she's my daughter, either as a means to get to me or because of interest in her personally."

"What, no patronymic name for Nina," Stark piped up half-heartedly. Nadine was almost tempted to laugh as she raised a brow at the billionaire. Even after getting shut down time and time again when he tried to wheedle the identity of Nina's father out of her, Stark just didn't give up, his curiosity insatiable especially when he knew the answer was being deliberately kept from him. But Nadine had to admit it was somewhat amusing, a game she only played because she knew he saw it as one too. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Steve shift uncomfortably.

"Not that I'm ever going to tell you," she bit back dryly.

Stark just shrugged. "Worth a try."

"The point is," she continued, deliberately ignoring Stark's comment, "the instant I sign and I'm put on that Registry? The crosshairs I've been hiding from for most of the last two decades will be right back on me again. By all definitions? Unlike all of you I am actually a criminal. I was a blackmarket assassin for most of my adult life—one of the most effective in the world—and throwing in with the Avengers doesn't erase that just as retiring from that life doesn't. Not to mention the target I've kept from being painted on Nina's back will be unavoidable if we are put on that Registry. And I have no interest in reopening that part of my life if I can help it. I won't put Nina through all that. Not again. Not now that she's settled and happy again. I don't have a choice; I have to retire The Ghost. This time for good."

Even Stark looked cowed by her explanation. If she was reading him right, he'd been hoping her and Natasha's combined support might turn Steve's decision away from the direction it was very obviously trending.

"Okay, inability to sign aside," Stark broke in then, eying Nadine intently, "I'm getting a distinct sense that you still support signing it." Nadine's jaw tightened against a groan even as Natasha shot him a disparaging look. "What? It's a valid question. I didn't hear anything—" But Nadine's attention was drawn away from the bickering that was on the verge of breaking out between Stark and her sister as Steve pulled out his phone.

Immediately she was straightening at the way his features went blank.

But not before she'd caught a potent flicker of grief.

"I have to go," he murmured distractedly. And no sooner were the words out of his mouth than he had stood and left the room, his abrupt departure startling Tony and Natasha into silence, the whole Team watching him go with confusion and bewilderment. Nadine caught her sister's eye, subtly shaking her head at Natasha's silent question. She had no idea what had shaken Steve so suddenly.

But she knew whatever it was, it wasn't good news.

And before she could help herself, Nadine was on her feet and following him.

She found him standing at the bottom of the stairwell leading out from the Avengers' private wing toward the main lobby of the Compound. And her heart sank. For all that his expression had been unreadable as he'd left the common area, it was written all over the way his shoulders slumped and his head had fallen to his hand.

Cautiously, she descended to stop across from him on the last step, leaning against the opposite railing. She didn't say anything, waiting for him indicate what he needed her to do; listen or leave. Still, she just...she didn't want him to be alone.

It was several long minutes before he moved, his hand dropping from where he'd been pinching the bridge of his nose to cross tightly over his chest, the barely perceptible trembling in his shoulders easing.

"It's—it's Peggy. She's gone," he finally said softly, still looking down to his shoes. Nadine felt her stomach drop. She was struck by the urge to reach out to him, to comfort him, her hand even rising from her side. But she couldn't quite manage to actually step forward and touch him.

"I'm so sorry, Steve," she managed to murmur, a surprisingly strong feeling of inadequacy surfacing with her genuine sympathy. His head tilted slightly toward her, though he still didn't look up. A small, grateful smile came to his face, though. After a moment he shifted, finally looking up. Finally looking up at her. Her heart ached at how painfully bright and sad his eyes were.

"Thank you, Nadine," he said softly, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth, "but...but it's okay. She had a long life, a good life. She accomplished so much, and she had a—a family she loved, and who loved her in return." He hesitated and Nadine had to fight back a wince. She didn't have to have Wanda's powers to know what was running through his head just then; it was a family that could have been his.

A sharp, painful ache cut through her as he spoke about his lost lady-love—a feeling a small, bitter part of her insisted was jealousy.

He inhaled deeply, his gaze falling to his shoes again. But he didn't ask her to go. And as the moment lengthened without him indicating he wanted her to leave? She got the distinct sense that he didn't want to be alone.

That her quiet company helped. It was a comfort she was only too willing to provide. And she was finally able to raise a hand to touch him, her hand smoothing gently across his back in sympathy as she crossed the stairwell to lean against the rail next to him.

They stood there, together, in silence for a long time.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

Don't forget to vote and comment! It keeps me going! So keep 'em coming, lovelies! They really make my day!

See you all next time!