LOVERS' QUARRELS
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Steve never liked waiting. It made him think of the days when he was younger, and smaller, and his mother would make him wait for the snow to melt before he could go out. Waiting for the snow could take days, so he waited for Bucky instead, and his friend would take his time to arrive back with cards and crayons and news of everything he'd missed.

Now, Steve was waiting for Bucky once more- waiting for him to wake up, waiting to see if he'd attack them all over again.

And he was waiting for Sadie too, to see if she'd come and help them as she'd agreed with Sam, and to see if she'd managed to persuade Tony and Natasha, too. Steve wasn't as hopeful about that last assumption.

He spotted her crossing the parking lot, after nearly thirty minutes of waiting.

Steve wanted to rush out to meet her, but there were already helicopters overhead and he knew their best bet was to stay put in this warehouse for now. And if he was honest with himself, he wasn't at all sure that this was the time for romance, not after everything that had happened.

Not after what she'd chosen. To stand directly against him, although he'd never had a problem with that. He wanted to be with an individual, with independent thought and action, and that's what Sadie was.

But it had hurt, how she'd been so cruel about it, so sharp and unsympathetic to see him arrested. How he'd had to practically beg her to help him with Bucky, and how after she did, she walked right by him without even a look back.

Sadie walked fast enough to reach him quickly, yet not so fast as to attract the attention of the watch. He noticed her right arm was in a sling against the white of her blouse, her tights laddered beneath her skirt- it was clear as day she'd been fighting. It didn't take much for Steve to guess who.

Despite his confliction, and his hurt, he kissed her as soon as she was near him. When they parted, there was clear regret in her eyes.

"I tried to get your things," Sadie started, with a sigh. "But they had my privileges revoked."

"It's okay. Sharon reached out, she's going to get them to us in the morning," he said.

Sharon, who he never had to beg for help- who he never even had to ask. And who, for reasons so clear to him now, reminded him so much of Peggy. Abruptly, he pushed the thought from his head, ashamed to even think of the comparison. To compare Sadie to Sharon, and Sharon to Peggy- it wasn't respectful at all, to any of them.

Sadie seemed none the wiser.

"As far as Tony and Nat are concerned, I'm on my way back to New York," she said, quietly.

"No chance, then?" Steve asked, unsurprised, but disappointed when she shook her head.

"How are you?" she asked him, gently.

"I'm okay," he said, truthfully. Despite it all, he wasn't injured, if not a little shaken. And perhaps his arms were a little sore from attempting to ground that helicopter- he'd leave out that detail, however proud he was.

"And what about us?" Sadie asked. "How are we?"

Steve didn't answer her- there wasn't any answer that would be accurate. He didn't know how they were. He only knew that he was... betrayed? Not betrayed, they'd agreed about her stance on things. But he was angry, he truly was, and he worried if he said a single thing it'd all spill out.

He didn't want it to spill out. Because whether he was angry or not, there was nothing Steve wanted more than Sadie Moore. So when she stepped closer and rested her head on his shoulder, Steve didn't step away, although the devil on his shoulder would have liked him to.

But he didn't hold her either.

Sadie seemed to notice this, so she stepped back, tentatively. She looked down at her heels, suddenly very interested in the scuff marks.

"What happened to your arm?" Steve asked, because he couldn't think of what else to say. But he knew. The Winter Soldier happened.

"You want a medical report?" Sadie asked.

"Actually, yes," Steve admitted. He wasn't reassured by her sling, or her ice-pack, and he wondered why she hadn't healed it- was it because she couldn't, like Paris?

"Full dislocation of the glenohumeral joint, reduced at the scene by... non-medical personnel, but there's no sign of tissue damage," Sadie started, finally looking up at him. "Treatment going forward, ice and immobilisation- patient has been given an elevated sling for this effect."

"Anything I can do?"

"Hmm," she mused, stroking her chin with her free hand. "Prevention going forward- avoid the wrath of the Winter Soldier."

"That sounds like a plan," Steve agreed. Whether they could stick to it, was another issue.

"Long term treatment is a weekly massage," she added, with a laugh.

There was a hopeful look in her eye- she was really trying, he could tell. To break this ice, to bridge the gap. All he had to do was let her.

"I feel like I'm being tricked here, but fine," Steve meant to say it good naturedly.

But her smile fell, and he supposed he'd failed. Anyone else, and they'd have not thought twice past his joke. But he'd never been able to hide his true feelings when it came to her.

"Patient has full range of motion and reflexes are in full effect," Sadie continued. "Estimated recovery time-"

"Until Sadie Moore decides she's worth healing," Steve sighed, and she turned away. "When it's you hurt, you leave it that way for hours or days. You don't hesitate at all with the rest of us. And you waste no time when it's me."

"That's because you're... because I..." Sadie's speech trailed off for a second, as if she had no argument. She still didn't turn around to let him see her face. "Because you're important to me."

Steve didn't like the suggestion of that. Was she not important too? Sometimes he wished he had her power, just for a moment, so he could do for her what she always did for him, what she wouldn't do for herself.

He hated to see her injured. It was easy for him to forget that Sadie was as fragile as any human, so easy to forget when he knew the power that she held and the strength of her mind. But when she was hurt, it was the worst reminder.

That she wasn't like him. And that gave him a responsibility, even if she was strong, even if she didn't need him.

"I will heal it," she said, finally turning back to face him. "When I need it. But these abilities- they feel like a well. And it's deeper than it was two years ago, it's much more full and I don't burn out so easy but... I'm afraid that it'll run out. I gotta save my strength."

"Okay," Steve said, despite his dissatisfaction. He would rather she wasn't hurt at all.

He didn't know when he closed the gap between them, but he had. And now he found himself placing a kiss on Sadie's exposed clavicle, as if that could undo her injury. It couldn't, but he wished it could.

Still, he lingered there, her familiar perfume blending with the salt of the fight, yet somehow it was sweeter to him than anything. Her skin, like earth in colour and sentiment, anchored him against the madness of the world. And suddenly it all felt unimportant. The Accords, the psychiatrist, the absence of their friends, and the price of it all.

And then the moment was gone again, and reality hit him once more. The snaking feeling of betrayal and anger in his gut, even though he knew he had nothing to feel betrayed or angry about.

Even though he loved her, he couldn't look at her. So he turned away.

"Steve," Sadie said. "I'm sorry I risked us."'

He hated that even the sound of his name in her voice drove him mad.

Her voice was strained, but he knew she wasn't crying. He knew she wasn't brought to tears easily, no matter how much she hurt, because Sadie simply wouldn't let herself, not if she had any other choice. She wasn't unlike him, in that way.

He hated that they were so alike, that they were both so stubborn, and that's what started this rift.

"You did your best," he tried, through gritted teeth. "Now, I know you'll tell me what you think. And we should be stronger for it."

"It doesn't sound like you think we are," she said, gravely. "Steve, you're important to me."

"You keep saying that, but all of two hours ago you had different priorities," Steve snapped, shocked even at himself. "Two hours ago you put me in an office, and you told me to stay put like a child. You walked right by me and you didn't care."

"What was I supposed to do?" Sadie asked. There was a fire in her eyes where resignation previously lived.

"I don't know, hear me out?" he started. "Stand up for me? Anything but, but-"

Steve wanted to stop himself, he truly did. He wanted to shut up, and not say a word, but his anger was almost as strong as his love was and he couldn't stand it any longer. The devil on his shoulder had won.

"Anything but what?" Sadie said, strongly, stepping right up to his face.

"Anything but be so cold."

"You were cold, I was professional!"

"You were cold, Sadie," Steve repeated. "And cruel, and mean, and treated me like-"

"Oh, here we go," she laughed, throwing her hands up. "Well, if you're going to behave like a child then of course I'll treat you like one!"

"-like a second class citizen! When you're supposed to treat me like your partner," he said, and she fell quiet.

"Is that what I did? Really?" she asked him.

His red hot anger had faded, given way to a cold blue hurt. But it burned the same- worse, even. Deep in his gut like he'd been doused in gasoline.

"You didn't care until that doctor did... whatever he did to Bucky," he said. "You didn't care until I was right."

"Steve, I don't take back anything I said, or did," Sadie said, slowly. "You could've done things so differently. You could've come to me when you were in Vienna- and I know you were in Vienna. Nat figured it out. So I have plenty to be mad at you for. Going to Bucharest without warning me- without seeing if I could help? It's the biggest disrespect."

The fire in his gut burned worse at that, hurt and anger combining and it was painful, so painful he didn't trust himself to say much else. But still, his mouth was like a motor he wasn't in control of.

"I had to beg you to help me," Steve said, quietly. He couldn't get the image out of his head. Sadie standing there, looking down on him, so unwilling to do anything for him until he basically got on his knees.

And she was still like that, it seemed, as she answered, "I didn't have to help you. I don't have to be here right now."

"You don't have to help me," Steve agreed. "But we're supposed to want to help each other."

Then Sam called his name, and Steve knew the second part of his wait was over.

"That's Bucky," he said, and Sadie tensed visibly. "We have him in a vice. It'll be fine."

"Alright," she said. "But forgive me if I keep a field up the entire time."

~

"I'm not the only Winter Soldier..."

Sadie put it all out of her head, didn't let herself think for a moment of how scared she was. She wasn't afraid of Bucky, not after hearing his story, and how everything made sense. But she was afraid of facing these other Winter Soldiers, and she was even more scared of facing Tony, and Nat, and Rhody. Their friends.

And above all else, she was mostly afraid of jail.

Instead of letting herself worry, she left Steve, Sam and Bucky to decide on their getaway vehicle- a topic of much debate, and not one Sadie was willing to join in with. She'd had enough debate with Steve, earlier, and she still felt terrible for it.

They'd both said things they didn't mean. But they were both too stubborn to take it back. The only thing she wanted to do now, was to speak with her mother, check in with Shan Moore and see how she was.

It had been three days since Sadie spoke to her. Simply too long.

"How's chemo?" Sadie asked, holding her phone to her ear. "I'm sorry I can't be there."

"Adrianne has been taking care of me, don't worry," Shan assured her. "I saw your text, and the news. It's awful what happened in Vienna."

"I know," Sadie agreed. "I couldn't even treat anyone. Those Accords stopped me."

"You've changed your mind?" Shan asked her. "Is that wise?"

"I'll be honest, Mom," she sighed. "It's not. It's really not. But it's what's right."

"Your boyfriend's all over the news," Shan teased. "I hope you're staying out of trouble, Shelly-girl."

"Look who you're talking to," Sadie laughed. "But don't think you can avoid the original question! How's chemo?"

"It was how it always is. It's chemo," Shan said, a certain tiredness in her voice.

"Tumour still shrinking?"

"Shell, I think..." her mother hesitated, and Sadie's heart dropped. Not a straight yes. Bad news. "When will you be home?"

"As soon as possible," Sadie said, quickly. "I can come home, right now, if you need me, Mom. You say the word."

"No," Shan said, firmly. "Finish whatever business you have in Europe. Something tells me this is world-changing stuff."

"It is," Sadie said. "For everybody else. For me; you're my world. And if something's changed with you, if you need help-"

"I have help," her mother said. "I told you, Adrianne is taking very special care of me. The kids bring me presents, and Jamie brought me churrasco yesterday evening."

"Beef or lamb?" Sadie asked, curiously.

Shan scoffed, as if the answer was obvious. "Beef, of course."

"Okay," Sadie nodded. "They're taking care of you."

"Yes, I've only said it fifty times!"

"I'll hurry home though," Sadie assured her. "As soon as I can, I'll be home. I love you."

"I love you too, Shell," Shan said. "I'll see you."

Her mother hung up the phone quickly, no doubt to avoid Sadie's mounting questions. The silence didn't mean that her questions evaporated though, and Sadie didn't know how long she stood in thought, the worst case scenarios playing in her head.

What if Shan wasn't eating well enough because of her chemo? What if Adrianne and Jamie didn't have time to look after her any more? What if her mother coded while she was away, and they lost her? What if she-

"We agreed on the Beetle."

Sadie was snapped out of her thoughts as Steve approached from the other side of the warehouse. She turned away from him briefly, to wipe away her tears before facing him again, humming in response. He didn't seem to notice- or maybe he didn't care.

"We didn't agree on jack-" Sam's voice called from behind the wall, his sentence cut off abruptly, but it didn't take Sadie much to guess what he would've said.

"I called shotgun for you," Steve continued, ignoring Sam's statement. "Unless you want to drive."

"Shotgun is fine," Sadie said.

He crossed the room to her, his hands in his pockets as if he had something to say. She raised her eyebrows, and he sighed. Instead of using words, it seemed, Steve just pulled her close to him, as if the thoughts would transfer by osmosis. Sadie let him hold her, but when he moved to kiss her, but she turned her head, offering her cheek instead.

A second class citizen, he'd said she'd treated him. Called her cruel and suggested she didn't want to help him. And she'd done nothing to dispute him, but argue back, and prove his point.

Steve didn't take her offer to kiss her cheek, instead he tried to catch her lips again. When she buffered a second time, he stepped away, respectfully.

"You don't want me to kiss you right now," Sadie said, quietly.

"Except I do," Steve said, his brow knitted.

"Except you don't, you just think it's what we should do because we fought," she said. "Or maybe that's the advice your boys gave you. Right? Kiss and make up?"

"What's wrong?" he asked her, and she raised an eyebrow. "Don't give me that. There's something wrong besides me. Besides all of this."

"I don't see what it matters," Sadie said, quietly. Steve stepped closer again, took her hands in his.

"Tell me," he said, so sincere in contrast to earlier. "Let's just forget about it all, for a second. Just tell me what's wrong, like you would if none of us had ever left New York."

Sadie rubbed a hand over her face, heaved a breath and willed herself not to cry, not while Sam and Bucky were next door.

"I just got off the phone with my mom," she said, keeping her voice low.

"How is she?" Steve asked, and she wished she knew the real answer to that.

"I think things are getting worse with her," Sadie explained, her chest tight from it all. "So it's hard for me to... be happy about anything. Especially when she's on her own."

"Do you want to go home?"

"No," she said quickly. "If it's true what Bucky said about Serbia, we have to get there. And we have to have as many hands on deck as we can. All of the team we can get."

"Clint and Wanda are on their way to Atlanta as we speak, they'll be here in the morning," Steve explained, casually.

"Atlanta?" Sadie repeated. "What's in Atlanta?"

"Sam said you met him," he shrugged, before grimacing slightly. "The... Ant-Man?"

"That guy?" she asked in surprise.

"I hate to judge," Steve said, a smile curling at his lips. "But he sort of sounds ridiculous."

Sadie couldn't help but laugh at how he said, as she shook her head. "He is ridiculous. But he's good, I guess. Certainly has the element of surprise. And oddly good humour for a fight."

"You fought him?"

"Sam didn't say?"

"He said he heard about him through the grapevine," he said, an eyebrow raised. "What happened?"

"I swore to never tell a soul," she said, with a smile.

"But you'll tell me?"

"It's embarrassing for both of us-"

"Even more reason to tell!"

"Steve, whether you like it or not, you're sort of our boss," Sadie argued. "And neither of us wanna look anything short of brilliant in our yearly reviews."

"He won, didn't he?" Steve deadpanned, and Sadie tried hard to keep her poker face. He saw right through it though, she supposed, because suddenly Steve was laughing, and so was she.

"It was a friendly fight," she insisted, nudging him in the ribs as she leaned into him.

"Sure," he laughed. "A friendly fight with a stranger? I'll believe that when I see it! I don't think I've ever seen a friendly fight between-"

Steve cut himself short, then, and their laughter stopped abruptly. There was suddenly an overhanging of dread, as the two of them thought about the fight that was likely to take place the next day.

And it wasn't the one against the Winter Soldiers that worried them most.

"I've never seen a friendly fight between friends," Steve finished, turning away.

"We can do this differently," Sadie said, racking her brain for another solution.

"How?"

"I don't know," she admitted. "But we don't have to be so hard-headed. Not everything has to end in a fight- we could negotiate! Tell them that after we finish this, we'll hand ourselves in."

"We're not handing ourselves in," Steve laughed, facing her again.

"Why?"

"Because we're not in the wrong," He said, simply. Sadie only stared at him. "Oh... you still think we are."

"I never said that," she sighed. "But if you want to put it that way... I think we're in the wrong way of dealing with this. And let's be honest, we're looking at jail time here. So if we negotiate, maybe we can come to some sort of deal."

"How long will you be on the fence about all this?"

"Until something makes sense!"

"Well," Steve sighed. "For better or for worse, the responsibility of making the plans falls on me."

"Says who?"

"Says you," he shot back. "Just two seconds ago."

She supposed she did say so, and it wasn't untrue when she said that Steve was the 'boss.' But she hadn't meant it that way, and he knew that.

"We really can't say anything to each other, huh?" Sadie sighed, and she could've sworn he looked regretful. "We have to look past this, and think about our future. We can't go on like there's no tomorrow because there is a tomorrow and we're going to have to face it."

Steve didn't answer that, and if she wasn't so annoyed, Sadie would have been relieved that he didn't. Instead he just stood there, his jaw clenched and his hands on his belt- so much like Captain fucking America she could have screamed right then.

Sadie didn't scream. Instead she asked, "Where are we sleeping tonight?"

"Here," he said, plainly.

She did a double take. "Here?"

"There's cars," Steve replied, gesturing to the rest of the warehouse, behind the divide of the wall. "Pick one."

"We're sleeping in cars?" Sadie asked, still shocked to hear it, and shocked that she seemed to be the only one out of the two of them to find it strange.

"Bucky's having the sedan and Sam's having the Range Rover," he continued, casually. "You can pick between the pickup and the Beetle. Something tells me you'll go with the pick up."

"How do we know nobody's going to come in to work in the morning and we won't be lying here like sitting ducks?"

"We're fugitives now, Sadie," Steve reminded her. "We don't get five star hotels, even if that is what we've gotten used to. So yes, we're sleeping in cars."

The devil on her shoulder told her that what he'd said was somehow an insult, that she should challenge it. But her eyes were heavy and so was her heart. She was tired of fighting.

Steve looked guilty. Sadie had no clue whether he was guilty about their less than ideal sleeping arrangements, or their arguments. It can't have been the arguments, she concluded, because if it was, he'd do something o fix that fact.

"I'm taking the first watch," he said, and she nodded.

"I'm going to settle down," Sadie sighed. "You can come and join me later. If you can stand it."

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YIKES. Stadie are struggling. I think this might be the most accurate chapter title of the entire story. I had this chapter written that they were the perfect couple, and Steve immediately forgave her, and she forgave him, and it just felt wrong and inaccurate. Unrealistic.

Hopefully not too out of character on Steve's part, although I really don't think it is. He argued with practically everybody else in that movie, Idk why he wouldn't fight with Sadie 🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️🤷🏾‍♀️ hopefully through their narratives though, you can see that they really don't want to be so horrible, but theyre so freaking hurt and I can't blame them tbh!

Let me know what you thought!

-Amber.