Siniy

Cora blinked until her eyes adjusted to the lights of the room. The needles prodding into her arm were uncomfortable, and all she could hear was the faint heartbeat monitor coming from her side.

She regained consciousness slowly.

How long have I been out?

Thinking about all the possible missed FaceTime calls from her family, she panicked. Her heartbeat raced, ripping off the needles form her arms and thinking up excuses to tell her family.

“Cora!”

What would she tell them?

“Cora!”

What did SHIELD tell her family?

“Cora!”

She had to make sure they were- hands grasped her shoulders in an attempt to keep her still. Too worried about her own family, she hadn’t noticed the other person in the room.

“Corazon, stop it!”

A hand slammed against the plastic food table, snapping the agent out of the panicked state.

It was Jemma.

Cora turned to her best friend, and saw her sigh in relief as she let go. The dark circles present underneath her eyes indicated she hadn’t slept in a while.

The agent gathered herself and sighed, leaning her back against the bed.
“You stink,” Cora bluntly said moments after sniffing the air and looking over to her friend. Cora's throat felt like sandpaper from lack of water. Breathing in once more, she groaned. "You and I both."

Laughing, Jemma didn't bother responding to the comment and fetched her bedridden friend a glass of water. Cora was thankful as she drank from it, and happy that Jemma had decided against reattaching the needles.

“Your mum called earlier,” Jemma said, placing the glass on the bedside table, aware of the alarmed state Cora exhibited once more. “Told her you forgot your phone at my place, and would let you know that she called.”

Relieved, Cora couldn’t imagine a life without Jemma.

“What happened?”

The door slid open before Jem could answer. Steve walked in with a bouquet of flowers, and Natasha wasn’t far behind. Cora didn’t fail to realize the pointed look she was given.

“These are for you,” Steve said, handing over the flowers. Her cheeks were flushed, and her self-awareness kicked in, remembering her appearance and her body odor. It was a nice bouquet of assorted flowers, and she could only hope that they overpowered her smell. Since they were from Steve, she wanted to hold onto them for a bit longer but snatched from Jemma seconds later.

“They’re lovely,” she said with a large smile, heading out the door. “I’ll go find them a vase.”

“Want to tell me what happened to me?”

Never one to beat around the bush, Natasha answered.

“You passed out.”

“Luckily, I was there to make sure you didn’t hit your head,” Steve smiled, and Cora nodded measly with a smile.

According to Steve, she had been out three days. There was a sense of relief, an ‘okay’ that it was only three days. It didn’t compare the two-week coma after Kalingrad in 2008.

“What about the Maximoff... did he, uh, did he die?”

“No,” Natasha said. “Bullets missed vital parts of his body, so Dr. Cho was called to create tissue from the cradle for him. He’s in ICU, sister won’t leave his side.”

While there was a sense of relief that she hadn’t died, there an underlying presence of guilt within her. Guilt that had she not tripped...

“Thanks for the flowers, even if Jem ran off with them,” the brunette thanked, laughing politely as she looked at Steve. “You didn’t have to.”

He responded with a bright smile towards her.

“We have to go,” Nat cleared her throat, patting Steve’s shoulder. He nodded, and both Avengers left the room after they said their goodbyes.

There were a lot of things for her to be thankful that day.

Being acting like a sane person with Steve Rogers in her vicinity was one of them.



Jemma was stuck to her like kola loka (a Mexican crazy glue that once resulted in her sisters being stuck arm to arm). After being debriefed and discharged, she was allowed to go home. Without her say, the executive decision was that she would be staying at Jemma’s home.

“I heard the Second Best Exotic Marigold Hotel is supposed to be sort of good,” the British one suggested as they neared city limits. The plan was to marathon a few good movies, and both debated which should be included in the list.

Cora scowled lightly, shaking her head.

“You know I like Helen Mirren over Judi Dench any day.” She leaned her head against the headrest, scowling playfully at the movie suggestion.

“But Maggie Smith and Dev Patel are in the movie,” Jemma refuted, turning the blinker on and turning the car to the right.

Cora didn’t respond, looking out the window. Even if she did like Dev Patel, she wasn’t interested in watching the movie. The premise was ridiculous to her.

Her mind wandered to Wanda, who was stuck inside a cold hospital room by herself. She felt a pang of guilt overcame her as she thought of Pietro too. IF she could kick herself... if she just hadn’t tripped...

Recalling the events of that day didn’t help the guilt, hardly noticing her nails digging into her thigh.

Her forehead smacked against the visor, and a string of Spanish curses let her mouth. Her brown eyes turned to glare at Jemma while rubbing her forehead, but were met with equally glaring eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

“What are you talking about?”

Her eyes looked at their surroundings, calculating for any possible scenario and making up escape routes.

“I called your name seven times,” Jemma said, “I asked you three different questions, you’re digging your nails into your though and it looks like you’ve broken your skin.” Jemma sighed, swatting Cora’s hands from the bare skin.

Nothing serious, but it was definitely bleeding.

Cora didn’t reply, turning to people watch in the sidewalk. A few looked at the two women in the car, most likely judging Jemma’s sense of parking. She claimed it was hard to parallel park.

“Remember that time I almost died by jumping off the bus and you went after me?”

Cora nodded.

“That’s when I knew you were my best friend.”

The sentimental tone made both women smile slightly. Cora bit her lip gently, closed her eyes but kept silent as minutes rolled by.

“Do you remember what you said to me? Well, I’ll tell you anyways because it bears repeating, you said that if I ever needed to talk, day or night, that you would be there for me.

“You know that same goes for me, yeah?”

The agent nodded once more, the right corner of her lips turned upwards in a slight smile. Those were the days when SHIELD still seemed to have their shit together.

“Fine,” the British one said a bit impatiently, shifting the car from park to drive. “Don’t say anything but you’re still staying with me.”

Cora wouldn’t want it any other way.

In Jemma’s apartment, Cora took a seat on the couch without intention of moving anytime soon. There were no complaints from her as Jemma popped in a movie she’d never seen before. It was about some kid who was being turned into a spy, but disguised himself as a tailor.

“So Steve,” Jemma said, a smirk on the her lips as she pointed at the bouquet in the middle of the coffee table. “That was nice of him, huh?”

Cora rolled her eyes at her friend’s attempt to be sly, kicking her thigh lightly with the right foot before comfortably laying both legs on top of her. There was no intention of talking about the man she had been crushing on for years.

“You know, he did come visit while you were out.” Jemma grinned mischievously, pushing off Cora’s legs and headed to the kitchen to refill the empty popcorn bowl.

“No he didn’t,” Cora rolled her eyes, legs crossed as she placed a pillow over her thighs.

“And you were drooling, but he was such a doll about it,” Jemma laughed, shaking her head as she emptied popcorn into the bowl. “He didn’t even mention it.”

Her hands covered her face, groaning in embarrassment at this sudden revelation by Jemma.

“Are you lying?” Cora’s muffled question was asked behind her hands.

The biochemist shook her head with a slight shrug and a knowing smirk, returning to the couch. Cora said her name, hoping to coax the women into telling her the truth.

“Define lying.”

“Did he really come around?”

“He did.”

“And was I really drooling?”

“Well,” her best friend elongated the word with smirk still present, crossing her legs once she took a seat. “You did drool... just maybe not in front of him but maybe I did get some good pictures.”

Cora contemplated grabbing a pillow and smacking Jemma straight to the face… but the idea regressed when her eyes landed on the newly filled bowl.

“You’re the worst,” she said, a joking tone in her voice and a smirk. “But this won’t be the last you hear from me.”

“Heard You’re the Worst is a really good show, I’ll add it to our list,” Jemma said offhandedly, both digging into the popcorn bowl in peace.

Cora drifted to sleep from time to time, taking up mostly ten minutes before Jemma would wake her. She was tired from having two intense missions back to back and was attempting to stay up until a reasonable hour before sleeping. If she slept now, she’d be up by midnight.

“Do you think I should get a dog?” Cora mused, watching an emotional reunion in Marley and Me.

Jemma laughed loudly, shaking her head at the sheer idea of her best friend having a pet. “And who do you think is going to take care of it while you’re gone? Certainly not me, and when we’re gone at the same time? Do you expect Fury to skip down your hallway, ready to feed this dog?”

Cora sighed, knowing it was true... but she chuckled.

Fury skipping down a hall had a way of making you laugh.

[ B R E A K ]

Being back on base wasn’t an option a week after her release. Even if she had sworn to take a month off, Cora couldn’t help but feel the need to back in the field, taking bad guys down.

Work was like meth to her. Besides, who else was going to pay for her sister’s college?

During her temporary stay with Jemma, Cora wasn’t allowed to do anything. When she attempted to cook breakfast, Jemma ran in her sleepwear, her hair disarrayed, and yelling “no, no, no” before slapping the spatula from Cora’s hands.

It meant no cooking, no cleaning and definitely not paying for meals when they were ordered in. Her current host had adamantly denied any type of money, leaving Cora the option of hiding a few $20 bills around the home.

There were times where she could confine herself in the couch, devouring trashy TV shows. But she was antsy most of the time, going crazy in the apartment and going on a run on the treadmill.

Jemma was still working, so Core spent most days alone.

Clint texted her a handful of times, mostly pictures of his most recent child… and terrible meme puns.

Steve texted her once as well, but unlike other times she didn’t smile like a buffoon. She hardly noticed it.

She’d receive texts now and again from her own family, brushing off their FaceTime requests, and sticking to texts and phone calls. She wasn’t sure if Jemma had terrible bathroom lighting or if her bruises really had been twice as bad. The biggest was the one above her eyebrow, and would leave a scar behind. She’d have to come up with a good excuse when she saw her parents.

It only added more to the guilt she had for lying to her parents. It also didn’t help the responsibility she felt for putting Pietro in the ICU.

Saturday eventually rolled around. Her temporary roommate was out on a mission and was expected to return in a couple of days. Jemma had almost gone hesitantly, not wanting to leave Cora alone.

Three loud knocks abruptly woke her from her sleep early in the morning. She glanced at the clock, reading 8:15AM in bright green. Grabbing the pistol from the bedside table, she stood from the bed. There had been no plans for visitors, and had it been Jemma, she would have unlocked the door.

Silently moving towards the entrance, she looked through the peephole.

She dropped the gun on the kitchen island when she realized who it was, opening the door with a confused smile as she rubbed her eye.

“Steve, what are you doing here?” She asked, and in fear of sounding rude, added: “So early?”

He wore jeans and a light blue baseball t-shirt, a pair of sunglasses were folded against his shirt, and he held a baseball cap between his hands while bending the peak slightly. He had a kind smile on his lips, looking at his surroundings before his blue eyes landed on her.

“Your friend asked me to checkup on you,” he replied, unaware that Cora was swooning at the color of his eyes.

They were just so pretty, and the small speck of green made her like them more…

And then she remembered what she was wearing.

Her cheeks lit up, the idea of burying herself into a hole sounded fantastic right about now. With a messy bun she was sure looked as greasy as it felt, a pair of Jemma’s old sweatpants, and a shirt with a handful of mysterious food stains, she stood in front of Steve.

“Are you okay?” He asked, looking at her attentively.

No! is what she wanted to yell.

“Y-yeah, I was about to take a shower so I could get ready to leave,” she stuttered a little, lying thorough her teeth while signaling the bathroom over her shoulder. “Do you wanna join?”

His eyes winded at the implication of her words, and hers followed suit when she realized how it might have sounded.

“I-I meant the supermarket,” she rushed her words, ready to dig that aforementioned hole. “I meant, d-do you want to join me at the supermarket? I was planning to make tamales for Jemma, um, it’s the only thing she’ll eat after I told her what menudo has.”

She hadn’t planed on making tamales, but the moment the word slipped through her mouth, she craved thirty. Jemma also did hate menudo.

“Yeah,” Steve nodded, looking much more composed that Cora could bring herself to be. Welcoming him into the apartment, she offered him some water before politely stepping away to get ready.

After a quick shower, Cora brushed her hair into a high ponytail and opted out of makeup. Even if it meant her bruises would be exposed, it didn’t matter. Steve knew her occupation. She dressed in a white shirt, a pair of mom jeans, tennis shoes and grabbed her purse from the bedroom before heading towards the living room.

“I’m ready,” she announced as Steve stood the moment she entered the room. She wasn’t used to manners like that. Grabbing the keys to the car and the apartment, she twirled them in her finger as they exited.

“It’s a bit far,” she informed Steve, closing up and heading down the stairs. It was about a thirty minute drive but in big cities, everything was far.

The distance made Cora nervous since she had to fill up the time with conversation. Steve was nice, but conversing about idle topics when she wasn’t on a mission was difficult, even more when she wanted to cover up her mild case of road rage.

But Steve kept things simple, and if he noticed the road rage, he was kind enough not to say anything. Cora admitted that she was proud of her ability to keep herself together. Even if she did laugh hysterically for a solid three minutes when Steve sat inside Jemma’s mini-cooper.

He was a tall, bulky dude in a small car.

They entered a less pristine looking neighborhood in D.C., where houses were all different bright colors. Some yards were nice and trimmed while others were unkempt and full of weeds. Cora yielded for a group of kids playing soccer in the middle of the street while their parents grilled in the front yard. They looked like they were celebrating a birthday from the decorations and the large pink cake she could see. A group of women sat playing a game, and she would bet every single cent in her name that they played loteria.

Music blared differently from house to house but it kept the similar style of corridos. Steve appeared to be unfazed by the neighborhood, but she could tell it wasn’t one he would frequent.

“How’d you find yourself in SHEILD?” He asked, pulling into the supermarket. It was a large square building, and was painted a awful bright pink color.

“I thought I was going in for a bodyguard job, but turns out I wasn’t,” she responded, recalling the day she was pulled aside by a recruiter. “It was all super secretive so I thought it was for a celebrity.”

She turned off the engine, exiting the car and grabbed the nearest kart to put the items she needed.

“I mean, if you think about it, a celebrity bodyguard that could pass as a bystander? It’s a great idea,” she mused with a small smile. “I wasn’t really into the idea of being part of SHIELD after I found out they’d be monitoring me, but I still enrolled in the academy.”

Being an agent wasn't her dream job, but when she was younger, she couldn’t picture herself in any type of profession. She loved it now, and wouldn’t have it any other way.

“The neighborhood reminds me of home,” she said to him, watching another group of kids playing soccer on an empty dirt lot. She grew up poor. The neighborhood kids were called her cousins, and they all looked after one another.

“I didn’t want to live in a drastically different neighborhood when SHIELD relocated me so I asked them for, uh, a specific area,” she said, pushing the kart towards the entrance.

“Relocated you?” He inquired.

“I was based in Bereza for a couple of years since Russian is my third language,” she said with a shrug, kind of missed the cold winters.

“So that’s why you and Natasha suddenly speak Russian to each other,” Steve said, his tone surprised as if he found out that the sky was blue.

“Among other things,” she shrugged, a slight smirk on her face.

“Other things?” He asked.

“She hasn’t… Natasha didn’t tell you?” She acted stunned, stopping the kart in the empty aisle.

He shook his head, furrowing his eyebrows as he looked down at her curiously.

“We used to date.”

The reaction was priceless as she took it in. His shocked face looked at her in disbelief, grasping the concept as his mouth fell agape. He was attempting to comprehend the new information.

Cora’s lips quirked into a small smirk, but it didn’t last. In just a few seconds, it turned into a large grin until she burst into laughter. She leaned against the orange kart, wiping the tears that were escaping her eyes.

“You-you should’ve se-seen your f-face,” she said between laughter, hoping the kart wouldn’t roll off. “Ay dios mio, it was so worth it, your face was priceless! Why didn’t I take a photo? Nat would’ve loved it!”

Cora fanned herself to try and keep her heated face cool. After a few minutes, she turned to the confused Steve with a genuine grin.

“I’m sorry, couldn’t help myself,” she hiccupped, “I just… I really needed the laugh.”

He only smiled politely, but perplexed.

“What’s the true story then?” Steve asked, watching Cora throw a bag of sixty cornhusks into the kart. They turned to the aisle with the pinto beans, and she grabbed two plastic bags.

“Nat is my S.O. or well, used to be,” she replied calmly. “I randomly call her uchitel which means teacher, and one a rare occasion, she calls me uchashchiysya, which means student.”

Steve nodded, but couldn’t wrap his head around the idea of Natasha being a supervising officer. Especially to someone like Cora. He didn’t know her very well, but on the surface they were different.

They went through the supermarket to pick up a couple other things she needed. Now comfortable with Steve, the idle chat wasn’t as difficult as Cora had initially thought.

“I think this is the most at ease I’ve ever seen you around me,” Steve suddenly said, startling Cora. Her shoulders tensed, keeping her eyes on the bag of maseca she was pretending to read.

“Oh?”

For a second, Steve regretted speaking his observations out loud. Her walls were now up, and her eyes keen on the bag that was now being held tighter. She placed the bag in the kart without glancing at him, and pushed it to the next aisle.

She could feel his stare, making her want to shrink so she could end this conversation. Cora kind of hated herself for her inability to compartmentalize her feelings – and action that Natasha tried to teach her. Key word was try.

“You had me thinking you didn’t like me for a while,” Steve said with a small smile, trying to keep the mood light. Her cheeks burned up as she grabbed the shortening and added it to the kart.

Her mind raced, knowing that her every movement was being studied.

It’s what agents did.

It’s what she did.

Cora turned to look at him straight in the eyes.

“Trust me, I’ve never hated you.”