Chapter Nineteen: A Deal With The Devil
The double doors burst open as the EMT rushed
through, frantically wheeling the gurney.
"We've got a male victim, early
thirties, caught in the explosion down at the shipping terminal," he
shouted to the team of doctors and nurses already converging. “Primary
assessment reveals bilateral burns on the upper torso, extensive lacerations to
the extremities, and decreased level of consciousness.”
Dr Ramirez took one look at the patient, and her
breath caught. Severe burns covered most of his exposed skin, the flesh an
angry red with areas of blackened crisp. His face was almost unrecognisable,
blistered and swollen, the hair on his head seared away.
"What are his vitals?" she asked, already
pulling on gloves as they transferred him from the ambulance gurney.
"BP is seventy over forty and dropping, pulse
thready at one-twenty.”
Ramirez nodded curtly, rushing him into the trauma
room. "Get me the burn cart, cool saline for irrigation, and page Ortho
for emergent surgery stat!”
“With all due respect, Doc, I don’t think Ortho’s
needed here… The patient’s left arm wasn’t severed during the blast; amputation
site shows no sign of trauma.”
As the nurses scrambled to follow orders, Ramirez
leaned over the patient, her brows furrowed in suspicion. "Sir, can you
hear me?” His eyes cracked open, more alert than expected, given his injuries. “Good
Lord, I think this is James Barnes… Change of plan. Get the patient up to OR-2
in the VIP surgical wing.”
Not far from OR-2, Tony sat hunched in the hard
plastic chair, elbows on his knees as he stared at the motionless body in the
hospital bed. It was almost impossible to recognise Steve beneath the tangle of
tubes and dressings.
“Stupid question, but how is he?” Tony asked,
seizing the opportunity when the on-call doctor came in to check his chart.
“Well, he’s stable for now. It was touch and go for
a second there… Doubt he’d have made it without the serum.”
“It’s jarring seeing him this way,” he mused, inhaling
a trembling breath. “You hear the term ‘super soldier’ and you
immediately think ‘indestructible’.”
He pressed the back of his hand against his lips,
stifling the unfamiliar swell of emotion as he studied the glimpse of Steve’s
swollen, mangled face beneath the white gauze. IV lines snaked from the crooks
of both arms, delivering antibiotics, fluids, and Banner’s special pain cocktail
into his body. Nothing could have prepared the team for this, seeing two of the
most invincible team members so vulnerable and broken.
Tony shocked himself as the term of endearment
slipped out of his mouth. Brother? Had he really just said that? In that
moment, Tony realised that, yes, Steve had become so much more than a teammate
over the years.
“I’d better go… Check in with the other patient.
Call me when his condition changes; as far as I know, I’m still listed as his
emergency contact.”
Giving Steve’s hand one final touch, he exited the
ICU, steeling himself for the next challenge: facing the media outside the
hospital.
Lily clutched her designer tote as she hopped out of
the sleek sedan, catching Cece exiting the hotel. This was not a conversation
she was looking forward to, but there was no avoiding it. Cece had to know what
was going on.
“Mother, have you heard the news? Sarah’s been
arrested.”
Cece arched a sculpted brow, her lips pressed into a
thin line. “And what are you doing about it?”
When it came to Sarah’s career, Cece had always been
a no-nonsense, take-no-prisoners type of manager. Lily may have been the face
of Sarah’s management team, but Cece was the master puppeteer, pulling strings
from the shadows.
“As part of our plea agreement, she’s ordered to
attend a treatment programme. I’ve already made the necessary arrangements and
ensured discretion. Although, truth be told, I have misgivings about some of
those younger officers.”
“Well, good. Problem solved…” Cece answered, checking
her immaculate chignon in the reflection of her waiting car. I trust you and Casey
have a plan in place for dealing with this, from a public relations
standpoint?"
“Of course,” Lily nodded. “Our contingency plan
includes a carefully worded statement acknowledging Sarah’s struggles and her
commitment to getting the help she needs, and a few calculated public
appearances at youth outreach events once she's completed treatment. We can
spin this as a positive, redemptive narrative if we handle it properly."
"Our family legacy reduced to publicity spin...
how far the mighty have fallen.”
A muscle ticked in Lily’s jaw, her poise slipping
for a moment. Disappointing Cece was the kiss of death. The last time one of
Lily’s siblings had disappointed their mother, they were stripped of
everything, banished from the family home without a dime to their name. To the
Carters, failure was not an option… neither was disappointment.
“Never mind.” Cece cleared her throat, lifting her
chin in a façade of regal stoicism. “All publicity is good publicity.
Let’s dwell on the positives, shall we?”
Lily tapped her foot impatiently on the scuffed
linoleum floor, willing the process to move faster. The sombre, fluorescent-lit
halls of the county jail were enough to put even the most buoyant spirit into a
sour mood. Not that Lily was prone to much buoyancy with Sarah’s antics, even
if it had been several years since her last episode.
Finally, the reinforced door clanked open, and a
bored-looking officer appeared. “Come with me,” he gestured with a subtle tilt
of his head.
In the few seconds it took to reach Sarah, Lily had
already mentally prepared her statement for the press, the modest outfit she’d
wear—a below-the-knee skirt suit in an innocent shade of pink—and figured a way
to use Bucky’s hospitalisation as a means to rake in some sympathy points from
the public.
“She’s all yours, ma’am,” said the officer, opening
the door to a sullen-looking Sarah.
Lily’s gaze swept over her niece with a harsh,
critical glare. Sarah’s typically wavy blonde locks were dishevelled, her
makeup smeared and raccoon-eyed from a night of tears. The designer dress she'd
been wearing was now rumpled and stained.
Lily kept her expression as inscrutable as possible.
“Thank you, Officer.”
Sarah kept her gaze lowered, nibbling anxiously on
her lower lip as she shuffled forward. The acrid smell of stale alcohol wafting
off of her.
"What fresh hell have you gotten yourself into
this time? Damn it, Sarah, I thought we were done with all this. Possession and
solicitation? Have you actually gone crazy this time?”
Lily’s venomous bite and glacial glare pinned Sarah
in place. But there was nothing she could say that Sarah hadn’t already told
herself. She hadn’t planned to go off the rails this way.
“Do you have any idea what this could do to
your career… or the mess I have to clean up now? Casey, the lawyers, the damage
control… Serious, respected actors don’t go around–”
“Again with my effing career,” Sarah groaned, all
traces of humiliation gone.
“Yes, again with your career. Don’t think, for one
second, that I take pleasure in treating you like a petulant teenager.
Recycling old lectures again and again… You know, I’ve just spent a hundred and
fifty thousand dollars to get you out of here… I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
Sarah spun on her heel, glaring at Lily. “Yeah, 150k
of my money. So maybe ease up on the hostility. Don’t pretend to be all
magnanimous for bailing me out. That goes for both you and Cece.”
Knowing Sarah had her beat, Lily swallowed the lump
in her throat, smoothing her hands over the silk scarf draped around her neck.
It was time to play her trump card.
“Sarah, now’s hardly the time for histrionics. We
need to get you to a treatment centre before 8 am. That’s the deal we got… And
then I need to get back to your sister, who’s probably out of her mind with
worry right now.”
Sarah frowned at the mention of Sharon being
worried. What could possibly worry her? Deciding between Vera Wang and Oscar De
La Renta wedding gowns? Did the happy couple want different destinations for
their honeymoon?
“Ugh, cry me a river…” she thought, inwardly rolling her eyes.
“As it happens, Steve and James were both rushed to
the hospital earlier this evening while you were out gallivanting. All I know
for now is that Steve’s in the ICU; James is still in surgery.”
All the blood drained from Sarah’s face. This had to
be a joke. A ploy the Carters devised to punish her.
“W-well, then that’s where I should be too, not some
treatment centre!”
“Oh, that option went soaring out the window the
second you got yourself thrown into the back seat of a squad car!” Lily spat,
tossing a coat at Sarah for her walk of shame.
“Lily… Lily, please…”
As Sarah’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears, Lily
didn’t so much as blink. Deep down, however, a kernel of satisfaction took
root. This was a power position, they both knew that, and Sarah was willing to make
herself vulnerable for the sake of seeing her two loves.
“Please, I’ll do anything…” she continued, her voice
quivering with desperation as she unintentionally made a deal with the devil
reincarnate.
Satisfied, Lily allowed herself the barest ghost of
a smirk. She had Sarah precisely where she wanted her—broken, beaten down, and
utterly beholden to whatever whims Lily and Cece deemed necessary for salvaging
her career. The game of keeping their petulant cash cow under control had begun
anew.
Sharon’s eyes traced the steady rise and fall of Steve’s
bandaged chest, watching the ventilator force air into his lungs.
A soft hand came to rest on her shoulder, giving it
a gentle squeeze. "You should go. I’ll stay with him."
Sharon shook her head at Nat’s suggestion. "I
can't... I can't leave him." Her voice was a hoarse rasp. "What if...
what if he wakes up and I'm not here?"
Nat’s eyebrow twitched at Sharon’s outward display
of concern. It was far too much to be fake. Either that, or she was so fully
committed to playing the role of Steve’s leading lady.
“Hm, the Carter sisters have more in common than
they think,” Natasha thought.
Neither of them spoke again for a long while,
maintaining their solemn vigil over their fallen teammate and friend. The only
sounds were the hauntingly rhythmic beeps and whirs of the machines working
relentlessly to keep Steve alive.
Hours later, when Nat had finally managed to coax Sharon
into going home for a brief rest, she found herself alone in the hospital suite.
Her gaze drifted over the cuts, burns, and contusions on the exposed skin of Steve’s
face and arms. He and Bucky both looked like they’d been to hell and back.
Which, she supposed grimly, they very nearly had.
To avoid the press, Sharon exited the hospital
through a back service entrance, bypassing the media frenzy outside the main foyer.
This was precisely the swarm she'd been dreading. Of course, the vulturous
media had already gotten wind of Steve’s terrible incident… which meant her
sister couldn't be far behind.
Like a shark sensing blood in the water, Sarah would
soon be arriving to shamelessly ride the coattails of Steve’s heroic struggle,
capitalising on every ounce of public sympathy and pulling focus where it
didn't belong. Or so Sharon believed, at least.
Just the thought of having to face her self-absorbed
sibling's dramatics while Steve clung to life made Sharon’s empty stomach
lurch. No. Not here... Not when he needed peace and protection more than
anything.
Tucking her head down, Sharon passed the clamouring
scrum of reporters, pulling out her phone to call up a number she hoped she
could trust.
“Carter, I’ve been meaning to call. How’re you holding
up?”
Grant Ward. Just enough of a wildcard to do as told
without question. And if Sharon Carter’s the one making requests, he wasn’t
about to object.
“I don’t know. Barely,” she answered softly,
massaging her temples. “I think the media hounds are making it worse.”
“Yeah, they’re all over the place here, too. It’s
crazy, you don’t realise just how much of a celebrity those guys are and then–bam–it
hits you square in the face.”
“Uh… yeah, Grant, great. Listen… I need your help.”
Sensing the urgency, Grant sought a private hallway
to continue their conversation. “Of course. What can I do for you?”
“Can you set up a ring of security in and around the
hospital? I don’t want any unexpected visitors… My sister, in particular. Keep
her away. I think her presence would only rile up the media.”
“Keep her away? Isn’t she supposed to be tight with
Cap?”
Even for a questionable character like Grant, the
idea of keeping Sarah away seemed confusing and needlessly cruel.
“Do you want to help me or not, Ward?” Sharon hissed.
“Yeah, no, I’ll… I’ll set it up.”
As far as Sharon was concerned, if Sarah wanted to
barge her way in for sympathy-baiting and air-time, she had another thing
coming. The sisterly claws were out with a vengeance. And this time, she wasn't
going to just sit back and let Sarah’s whirlwind of chaos and destruction sweep
through unchecked.
Lily’s heels clicked sharply against the polished
tiles as she made her way down the corridor of the Ostroff Rehabilitation Centre.
Despite the early hour, her appearance was immaculate as always—every strand of
hair perfectly coiffed, not a wrinkle in her tailored pantsuit. The only tell
of her inner disquiet was the tight grip on Sarah’s overnight bag she’d brought
with her.
She paused outside Room 201, steeling herself for
the encounter. After the previous night’s events, Lily braced herself for the
worst. Sarah was in a volatile state, the worst she’d seen in years. Without
bothering to knock, she let herself in.
The room was surprisingly sombre for a facility
catering to the wealthy and famous. A simple double bed, a couch, a small
wardrobe. No extravagances that might distract from the serious business of
recovery.
Sarah sat with her back against the headboard, gazing
out the window. She wore soft grey sweats, her blonde tousled locks in far
better condition than when Lily had found her at the precinct the previous
evening. Despite the warmth of the morning sun streaming through the window,
she had a weighted blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders like armour.
“I’m not in the mood, Lily,” she said without
turning, her voice flat and brittle.
Lily paused near the end of the bed, keeping a
careful distance. This wasn't the explosive tirade she'd anticipated, but the
undercurrent of resentment was evident enough. “Sarah, I’m sorry. I had no
idea.”
“They physically escorted me out of there like a
common criminal!” Sarah spat, finally whirling to face her aunt. “I needed to
see them, Lily. To see for myself that they were..." Her voice cracked,
and she swallowed hard.
Lily’s mind raced. For once, she had nothing to do
with whatever plan was set in place. “Well, they are high-profile
patients. Of course, security’s tight. An approved visitors list is just good
sense. They wouldn’t grant everyone—“
“Yeah, except I’m the only one not on it! I barely
made it past the lobby," Sarah cut her off, a bitter edge to her words.
"Some rent-a-cop with a clipboard told me I wasn't on the list. Can you
believe that? Me! You’d think the Carter name’d be good for something."
The rawness in Sarah’s voice made Lily wince. She'd
seen Sarah in all sorts of crises before, but this... this was different. This
wasn't about a bad review or a botched audition. This was a wound that went
deeper than any tabloid headline could inflict. Still, she lacked the
compassion to comfort her niece.
“Sarah, I think you’re overreacting.”
A mirthless laugh escaped Sarah, the blanket
tightening around her like a vice. “Right. I show a little emotion and suddenly
I’m overreacting. It’s like Groundhog Day with you people. Nothing ever
changes.”
The silence that followed was heavy-laden with
tension. And Lily, for all her strategic brilliance, found herself at a loss
for what to do next. Channelling her inner Cece Carter, she retreated to the familiar
ground of business.
“Alright… How about this? How about you and I make a
deal of our own? Promise me you’ll return to S.H.I.E.L.D.. No more running
away… No more bickering, no more complaining…” she said, her tone firm but not completely
unkind. “Do that, and I’ll speak to Nick about sneaking you in, in the
morning.”
“Wha– no, you can’t do that!” Sarah protested,
shrugging off the weighted blanket.
“Oh, honey. Believe me, I can.”
As Lily turned her back on Sarah, shutting down all
chances at debate, Sarah remained motionless on her bed. In essence, this is
what it all came down to. How far would you go, how much would you endure, for
the one you love?
Her gaze drifted to the window, to the rolling green
hills beyond, but she saw none of it. Instead, her mind's eye conjured an image
of Steve—not as he lay now, broken and ravaged in a sterile hospital room, but
as he'd been the last time she'd seen him. Vibrant, strong, full of life.
Then came another image—Bucky confessing his love to
her before everything came crashing down. The memories burned through her like
wildfire, searing away the haze of drugs and alcohol, the shame of her public
disgrace.
She'd endure it all again, Sarah realised. The
humiliation of arrest, the scathing headlines, the sneers of security guards… If
it meant catching even the briefest glimpse of him, she would. To know
he was still breathing, still fighting. Her pride, her image, her own pain...
all of it paled in comparison to the thought of him potentially slipping away
without knowing she'd been there, that she'd always been there, even when he
couldn't see her.
There was nothing she wouldn't endure. No
distance she wouldn't cross. No sacrifice too great. In the quiet of her room,
with no one to witness, Sarah let a single tear trace its way down her cheek. A
silent testament to the depth of a love stronger than any force that dared
stand in its way.
Watch Episode 19 Here:
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