Chapter Twenty-Six: Cassiopeia
Tony was at his wits’ end. Pepper had been working
tirelessly for the Carter/Rogers wedding, constantly asking Tony for his
opinion on what Steve would prefer. Silver or gold trimming? Classic all-white,
or his signature red, white, and blue for the accents? Sharon’s favourite New
York cheesecake for dessert, or Steve’s (very traditional, all-American boy)
apple pie? He found her consideration for Steve’s secret desires endearing,
but, simultaneously, it bothered him how hard she’d been working for a wedding
Steve had no interest in.
“Can you give me one definitive answer, just
this once?” Pepper whined, following Tony through his workshop.
“Sweetheart,” he turned around, grabbing her by the
shoulders, “trust me, there’s no need to worry about it. Steve’s easy. We may
butt heads occasionally, but he’s quite agreeable, for the most part. You know,
relatively. He’ll be happy with whatever you decide. Just have fun with it. Or
better yet, hand it over to… uhm… who’s that guy you’re always on about again?
The party planner guy…”
“Colin Cowie?”
“That’s the one! Dump this on him and hand Fury the
bill… See how easy that was?”
As if he’d just solved world hunger, Tony turned on
his heel, inspecting an oversized Iron Man portrait he’d received as a gift.
“That’s your brilliant advice? This is your
friend we’re talking about. Just a few months ago, you were sobbing at the mere
thought of losing him after the Helicarrier explosion.”
“What do you want me to say, Potts?”
“Be more invested! Help me! I thought, given Steve’s
sensitivity, he’d be more hands-on, but he’s not giving me much to work with.”
Tony could feel his control slipping. One tiny
detail. That’s all it took to make Pepper’s needless anguish dissipate.
“He and Sarah threw our Jack ‘n Jill party before
our wedding. Remember that?” she continued. “And it was amazing… They made sure
everyone had a ridiculously good time. So yeah, I want this to be perfect for
him. It’s his big day too. And truthfully, I really expected you to–“
“You’re wasting your time working this hard on a
fake wedding!” Tony finally exclaimed, cutting her off.
Pepper paused, her eyes widened and mouth agape, requiring
a little more than two seconds to fully process Tony’s revelation.
“This is basically an arranged marriage… set up by
the higher-ups at S.H.I.E.L.D.. It’s nothing but a publicity stunt to help
reconcile the public and the Avengers.”
“I don’t… But what about…? Th–the photoshoot, the
dinner, the game night, the…”
As Pepper mentally replayed the events hosted at the
compound over the months with fresh eyes, the pieces began to fall into place.
Steve’s distant demeanour at the engagement party, the way he'd seemed
distracted during cake tastings and venue tours.
“Oh, my God, Sarah… Oh, my God, Bucky!”
Pepper gasped, bringing a hand to her mouth, the implications dawning on her.
Tony nodded solemnly, a sympathetic look on his face.
“Now you know the reason for all the inexplicable tension.”
Pepper sank to a nearby couch, her gaze drifting to
the photos lining Tony’s workshop—candid shots of their friends laughing and
celebrating over the years. The image of a younger Steve and an adolescent
Sarah, arms slung around each other at a birthday party, suddenly took on a new,
bittersweet nostalgia. She shook her head, her heart aching for all of their
friends involved: Steve, Sarah, Bucky, even Sharon.
Several floors up, Maria’s heels clicked against the
polished marble as she hurried across the hall, tablet clutched tightly in her
hand. Normally, dealing with Steve’s PR crises was a headache she dreaded, but
this time, for once, she actually had exciting news to share.
She spotted Steve a ways away, standing rigidly near
the bank of elevators, his jaw set in a tight line. This was the new Steve
she’d come to know—Post-Engagement Steve. Worry and frustration permanently
marred his face these days.
Maria approached him cautiously, keeping her tone
light. “We leaked the news about your wedding venue today. Ocean House,
Westerly.”
“Rhode Island…” Steve chuckled bitterly. “Clever.
Strategic. Rhode Island was the first colony in America to declare
independence.”
“Tying you to Rhode Island’s rich history subtly
reminds people of your embodiment of freedom and standing up against
oppression. It’s a good move.”
Her words hung in the air for a moment. Steve’s shoulders
visibly slumped at the fact that the people needed reminding of all the
good he’s done over the years, the sacrifices he’s made.
"Hm, agreed," he muttered, his gaze
downcast.
Stealing a glance at Steve’s face, Maria’s heart
clenched at the defeated expression etched across his features. And for a
moment, she found herself questioning the council’s heavy-handed approach. Was
this really the best way to handle the crisis? She couldn't help but wonder if
there might have been a more compassionate path forward. One that respected Steve’s
autonomy and gave him a voice in the process.
Forging ahead, Maria tapped quickly on her tablet,
pulling up her notes.
“Ideally, the next step in building positive
momentum would be a public appearance. Showcase your dedication to
philanthropic causes.”
“What’d they have in mind?” Steve asked flatly, his
eyes fixed ahead of him as they ascended the staircase.
“POTUS is hosting an election fundraiser at Radio
City Music Hall… He’s hoping to list you two as his guests.”
She handed Steve the tablet, showing him a letter
sent directly from the President’s campaign team. The personalised invitation,
carefully tailored for both Steve and Sharon, included a photo from their
pre-wedding shoot. From a PR perspective, it was, without a doubt, the best
photo they could have selected for such an event. People generally associated
stoicism with strength, leadership, composure, while the hint of affection
toward Sharon served to humanise him. It softened his image without undermining
his professionalism. He hated how good it looked.
“Attending underscores your commitment to civic duty
and enhances your image as a socially responsible figure,” Maria continued.
Steve listened in stony silence as she outlined their
strategy. With each detail, his expression grew more resigned, the fight
seemingly draining out of him.
“Unless, of course, you’re having reservations…?”
With a curt nod, Steve straightened his posture, the
familiar determination slowly returning to his features. “Tell ‘em we’ll be
there.”
A run, Steve decided, was what he needed. A solo
activity. A chance to be alone with his thoughts and emotions. Feeling
constrained by his responsibilities and the council’s expectations, the
temporary sense of freedom and escape was needed to at least feel as
though he was still in control of his own life, even if just for a couple of
hours.
As Steve rounded the familiar bend in the trail, a
dark grey blur in the far distance caught his attention. He felt a grin tug at
the corners of his mouth, recognising Sam’s steady pace. In a flash, with
barely any exertion, Steve caught up, jogging alongside him.
"Great time for a stroll," he called out,
the words coming out between even breaths.
Sam flashed him a competitive grin. "Can't a
guy get in a late-afternoon workout without you trying to show him up?"
"Hey, I'm not the one trying to keep up," Steve
retorted playfully, pushing his pace a little harder. His legs pumped with ease,
his body falling into a comfortable rhythm his pre-serum self could only dream
of.
The two men raced side by side, their strides in
perfect sync for only a second before Steve shot ahead, navigating the winding
path. He could feel the familiar thrill coursing through him. The challenge and
sheer joy of pushing himself to his limits. Of course, there was no
competition, no rivalry, just a whole lot of friendly smack talk.
With a final burst of impossible speed, Steve
crossed the invisible finish line. He slowed to a jog, his chest heaving, but a
triumphant grin spread across his face.
"You’re a good sport, I’ll give you that,"
Steve grinned, watching Sam stumble his way forward.
Sam shook his head ruefully, a good-natured smile
playing on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, rub it in. One of these days, I'm gonna
beat you, just you wait."
Steve laughed, the tension and worry that had been
weighing him down gradually ebbing away. "You know what? I almost believe
that."
As the two friends strolled back toward the
trailhead, Steve felt a renewed sense of energy, and shared the news of POTUS’
fundraiser invitation.
“Rubbing shoulders with the President of the United
States…” Sam whistled through his teeth. “Man, that’s gotta feel surreal. Like
you really made it, y’know?”
“I don’t know, I’m sort of running on autopilot
right now.”
Sam considered Steve’s reply for a moment, thinking
back to what Isaiah had said. If there was ever a time to test Bradley’s
hypothesis, it was now, especially after Bucky’s bizarre hunch turned out to be
bang on.
“Hey, I wanted to pick your brain real quick,” he
started.
“Hm, what about?”
“From what I’ve heard, you and Sarah used to have
this intense bond, this connection. Nat and Tony always say you two were ‘joined
at the hip’… Vastly different in many ways, but eerily similar in others.”
Steve nodded, sensing the weight of the words to
come. Since Sarah’s return, he hadn’t explicitly detailed their past
relationship. All Sam knew for certain was that they were close and, once upon
a time, Steve had been in love with her.
“Was it easy to forget her or is there still some
kind of ‘pull’?” Sam asked, using Isaiah’s words verbatim.
Steve inhaled deeply, a ghost of a smile tugging at
his lips. “It definitely wasn’t easy, it’s just… She didn’t really give me a
choice but to move on.”
“’Cause she left for LA?”
“Yeah… And as the saying goes, time heals all
wounds… Or, in my case, time and distance.”
“Alright, let me give you a scenario. Let’s say
Sarah’s in trouble and about a mile away… Is it possible to have, like, a sixth
sense about it?”
At that moment, Steve’s phone buzzed in his pocket.
“Mission Alert.Extraction imminent.Meet at the curb. :)”
“Hold that thought, pal. Duty calls…”
As Steve made a start toward the curb, Sam yelled
out from behind, demanding an answer. “It’s a yes or no question, Cap. Is it
possible or not?”
Bucky followed Sharon through the expansive, beautifully
decorated house provided through the courtesy of S.H.I.E.L.D., his eyes barely
registering the lavish pay-off. His mind was too preoccupied with the whirlwind
of events from the past few days, desperately seeking some clarity.
"Steve’s at work, of course," Sharon
mentioned casually over her shoulder, padding through the space. "But I’m
guessing you knew that."
“Yeah, no, I’m here to see you, actually.”
As they stepped into the outdoor living area, Bucky
couldn't help but feel a pang of distaste. The space was a perfect blend of
luxury and comfort, with plush seating arranged around a sleek fire pit. While
beyond breathtaking, it wasn’t Steve at all. Steve was too simple for such Tony-Stark-level
extravagance. But S.H.I.E.L.D., no doubt, wanted their frontman to appear as if
he were living a certain lifestyle.
Sharon settled gracefully onto one of the sofas,
gesturing for Bucky to join her. "Right, then," she began, her tone
gentle but probing, "what brings you all the way out here to see me? I
presume this isn't just a social call."
Bucky sank into the cushions, running a hand through
his hair. “I was wondering about you and Steve… How’s that going?”
Sharon’s heart skipped a beat. Did Bucky find out
about the true nature of her relationship with Steve? Was this his way of
prying information out of her? Being the skilled agent she was, however, she
maintained an impressive poker face.
“Me and Steve? We’re fine. Why do you ask?”
“Yeah, you two seem really happy together.”
Judging by the genuine smile on Bucky’s face, he was
none the wiser. The arranged marriage, the NDAs, their meticulously crafted
image… And if he was still blissfully unaware, so was Sarah. To Sharon, that’s
all that mattered.
“I suppose we have our ups and downs like any other
couple.”
As Aunt Peggy once taught her, the trick to a great
lie is to keep it as close to the truth as possible. And, in truth, Steve and
Sharon did have their ups and downs. Navigating a fake relationship
wasn’t always sunshine and rainbows.
“What kind of ups and downs? Leaving dishes in the
sink or… I’m in the wrong relationship?”
Sharon narrowed her eyes, realising this
conversation had very little to do with her and Steve. “Okay, you’re about as
subtle as a sledgehammer. What’s this really about, Barnes?”
Bucky drew a sharp breath, his gaze fixed on a point
somewhere beyond Sharon’s shoulder.
“How’d you know Steve was the one?”
“That’s a loaded question. Why the sudden interest
in our relationship?”
“No reason,” Bucky shrugged, resting his foot on his
knee. “I mean, Steve’s my best friend, you’re Sarah’s sister… You said it
yourself, we’re practically family.”
Unconvinced, Sharon raised an eyebrow, her eyes
raking over his body as she carefully assessed his body language.
“What? I’m invested. This is me making an effort.”
“In what capacity?”
“…Friend? I can be a friend, right? It doesn’t
always have to involve Steve or Sarah.”
Sharon leaned forward, her elbows resting on her
knees. If she only had one guess, she’d say there was trouble in paradise. And
given how quick Steve always rushed to Sarah’s aid, Sharon knew he’d sprint
through hell to comfort her if Bucky were to end things.
“Steve and I aren’t perfect, I’ll admit that. But we
work at it. We communicate. Even when it’s uncomfortable. Especially
when it’s uncomfortable... We go through bouts of separation too. Given our
profession, there’s no way we can avoid that.”
Bucky let out a long sigh, his shoulders slumping.
“Whatever’s going on, just be honest with my
sister,” Sharon continued. “There’s no reason you two can’t make it work.”
Sarah huddled on the bench beneath the Bethesda
Terrace, pulling her cashmere hoodie tighter around her as a gust of chilly
wind swept through the arches. Her gaze darted between the shadowy paths
leading to the secluded meeting spot, searching for any sign of Althea, the
only person she’d told about her return from Paris.
Sarah’s two bodyguards stood a respectful distance
away, their watchful eyes scanning the area constantly. Under different
circumstances, she’d have found their presence to be somewhat suffocating, but
today, they were a source of comfort.
A shiver ran through Sarah’s body, whether from the
cold or nerves, she couldn't tell. She’d asked Althea to retrieve a bubble
mailer from Lily’s safe at the penthouse. A letter that was supposed to be sent
to Steve a couple of months after she’d left New York. A letter, she later
learned, that had never even left their Los Angeles estate.
The soft splash of footsteps in a nearby puddle
caught her attention. Sarah’s heart leapt as she recognised the familiar
silhouette emerging from the shadows. Even in the low lighting, Althea’s
signature Peter Pan collar and pearl strand necklace were unmistakable.
She stood up from the bench, her eyes locked on her
best friend's approaching figure. The bodyguards tensed slightly but remained
at their posts, recognising the newcomer.
"Did you get it? Please tell me you got it…"
Sarah pleaded.
Althea reached into her handbag and retrieved the
purple bubble mailer. “Do you mind if I give it a read?”
Sarah tensed at the question. Althea was there when
everything went down; she’d witnessed it all. There were virtually no secrets
between the two, except, perhaps, the magnitude of her love for Steve.
She nodded and averted her gaze, incapable of watching her friend whilst she
read her innermost thoughts…
Steve,
Somehow, the stars are different here. I find myself
searching for Cassiopeia each night, remembering how we'd lie on the roof and
make up stories about the constellations. Do you ever look up at the sky and
think of me? I hope you do… I think of you constantly.
Steve, I am so sorry. Those words feel inadequate, I
know, but I need you to know that I am truly, deeply sorry for leaving without
a word. I was scared and confused, and I convinced myself that leaving was the
only option. I realise now how selfish and hurtful that decision was. You
deserved better than returning to an empty room.
These past couple of months have been a blur of
faces and places, but in quiet moments, your smile still haunts me. Your smile,
your laugh, your smell… How you always seem to know exactly what to say to make
me feel better. Our long talks that stretched into the early hours of the
morning, the comfortable silences, and even our silly arguments over which
pizza toppings are superior.
Steve, I need to tell you something I should have
said a long time ago. I love you. Not just as my best friend, but as the person
I want to build a life with. I think I've loved you since that day in the
hallway. Or maybe it was when I ran away from boarding school and you shared
your secluded spot up on the roof with me. Or perhaps it was during all those
small, everyday moments that added up to something extraordinary.
I know I have no right to ask anything of you, but
I'm hoping that somewhere in your heart, you might have feelings for me, too.
That maybe, just maybe, you could forgive me and we could find our way back to
each other.
There's so much more I want to say, but I'll save it
for when we're face to face. If you're willing to see me, that is. I'm coming
home next week. Things are changing for me and changing fast. And I'm realising
that home isn't a place, it's a person. It's you.
I hope we can talk soon.
Always yours,
Sarah
“Everything would have been different.”
“But then again, you never actually came home,
though. You chose to stay in LA after everything. So… that meeting never would
have taken place, anyway.”
The feelings Sarah felt whilst writing the letter,
together with the crippling heartbreak of the events that followed, all came
rushing to the surface.
“Yeah… Right…” she murmured, her voice barely
audible above the steady patter of the rain.
“Does Steve even know about the seizures? Does he
know anything at all?”
“I know Lily told Nick… I doubt he’d have told
anyone else.”
After a moment of silent reflection, Althea dug into
the mailer once more. “Where’s the…?”
“The poem?” Sarah asked, hastily blinking away her
tears. “It should be there; I put it in there myself.”
Folded into a tiny square at the bottom of the
mailer was Sarah’s hand-written poem. As Althea carefully unfolded it, her
breath caught in her throat. Each stanza was written in a different style. Some
lines were neat and controlled, others wild and barely legible. It was as if Sarah’s
hand had been guided by varying waves of grief.
Sarah watched as Althea’s eyes scanned the page, her
friend's expression softening with each line. Even from where she stood, Sarah
could make out the faint, circular stains dotting the paper. The evidence of
the tears she'd shed while pouring her heart out.
Cassiopeia
Summer nights, we'd lie beneath the stars,
Tracing patterns in the velvet sky.
"That one's my favourite," he whispered,
pulling me close.
I smiled, content in the warmth of his embrace.
For nine glorious weeks, we danced in secrecy.
Dreaming of the future, a new life, a love
unfolding.
But fate had other plans, a cruel cosmic twist.
And that shining constellation started to fade from
view.
Cassiopeia, why do you still shine so radiantly?
When all I love has vanished from my sight.
The door to that promised tomorrow has slammed shut,
I’m left alone in this starless night.
They say time will heal these wounds, but how can
that be?
A love so brief, yet so great, can never be
forgotten.
I can neither explain this emptiness,
Nor the phantom pain that no one else sees.
Behind closed doors, under fluorescent glare,
I learned that sometimes stars just fade and die.
But I'll keep looking to the sky, to Cassiopeia's
light,
For the dream we almost touched.
Cassiopeia, our bittersweet lullaby.
Althea looked up, her eyes glistening. "Oh, Sarah,"
she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “Are you sure you want to release
this?”
Sarah felt fresh tears welling up in her eyes, remembering
the raw pain and vulnerability she'd poured into those words. The poem was her
darkest moments put on paper, a cry for help she'd never meant anyone to see.
Not even Steve. Would she release this for the world to see? Could she?
Watch Episode 26 Here:
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