Chapter Text
“You were one of our most promising agents. Your work with the terrorism task force was some of the best I’ve seen in my years here. It’s a shame to see you go but we don’t really have any other choice,” her superior actually did look apologetic as she spoke. Part of Sharon was thankful that she was only being fired instead of something worse. She’d been to the Raft before and it wasn’t exactly a vacation hotspot.
“I didn’t want to let you go at all but the people above me won’t hear anything about it. I pushed for you to just get probation, maybe some leave, but the incident with the shield was just too much. I’m sorry Agent Carter, but you’ll need to have your desk cleared out by the end of the day,” Agent Halifax, that was her name, told Sharon with a look of disappointment. Sharon didn’t quite know what to say in turn so she nodded her head once, all professionalism and stood up to leave the office.
“It’s been an honor to work with you here,” Sharon offered as she exited the room. She made her way directly to her desk where a banker box was already waiting for her so she could take her few personal items home with her. Home. Home sounded depressing. Home sounded like leftover Chinese in her fridge that was close to going bad but was just salvageable enough to make dinner of. Home sounded like her cell phone to her ear, ringing and ringing as she tried to get ahold of her friends. Home sounded like her sitting in her car in front of her building for twenty minutes with this stupid banker box that held only a few pens and a small cactus that was dying. Home sounded like a quiet that would leave her to think and the last thing she wanted to do was think. She wanted out of her head. She wanted to get away. So, she did.
She got in her car, an ordinary, black four door town car that was eco-friendly and silent. On her way out of the office, she threw her stupid box into a trashcan outside the building. Now, she was behind the wheel and headed away from the city, away from what was left of her life as an agent for the CIA. She needed a little time to evaluate where her priorities were. Currently, they seemed nonexistent. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself. She was the kind of person who always had work to do, who was always busy with something. And now, she had nothing to focus on. So, she drove.
Without meaning to, she realized she was driving to her childhood home. It was hours away and her parents were long since deceased. The home had been left to her but she rarely used it, preferring to live in various cities for her work or, in her Shield days, on base somewhere. The house had sat on a lonely estate for years, being cleaned by a service every few weeks and checked in on by neighbors during stormy weather. The only food stocked there were canned goods and expensive liquor. Sharon didn’t think to hit a super market on her aimless drive toward her old home. When she pulled into the driveway, she paused in front of the wheel, unsure if she should even be there.
“What the hell am I doing?” she asked herself quietly. Great, now she was becoming to type who had so little to do that she was talking to herself. “What am I going to do with my life?” she asked after, stress lacing her tone. Before she could think about it too much and freak out, she decided to give herself a task to partake in. She went inside the house and tugged open the dusty curtains. It was dark out, but the windows were tall and Sharon could see the stars like they were on a big screen. She wandered through the fancy kitchen until she found the pantry and started rummaging through stockpiled preserved foods. She pulled out a can of tomato soup and made for the stove triumphantly. While it simmered, she pulled down a wine glass and found a vintage bottle stored on a rack right on the counter. Her family did love to drink.
She ate dinner alone, in an even bigger house than the one she’d run away from, trying to shut out the silence with wine and exasperated sighs. She needed a game plan for her future but was too busy throwing herself a pity party to make any headway on that front so, she drank.
Four glasses into her party of one, Sharon had changed into a pair of fancy silk pajamas and was lazing on the couch fiddling with her cell phone. She was drunk enough at this point to end up calling someone on accident which usually wouldn’t be a problem since most of her friends were out saving the world and didn’t answer their phones but apparently, tonight was the exception.
“Carter, what’s up? Is something wrong?” Maria Hill’s voice sounded through the phone and Sharon sat upright, forgetting she’d even hit the contact button.
“Uhm, I’m not sure?” Sharon spluttered out in drunken fashion.
“Why’d you call?” Maria asked, sounding a little bit worried now. That was the way of things, everyone was always worried because organizations fell and cities burned and politics tore them all apart.
“I got fired. I just hit your contact on accident,” Sharon tried to explain and she heard Maria laugh on the other end of the line.
“Are you drunk Sharon?” Maria asked accusingly yet playfully.
“Only a little, I came home to my parents’ old place and they have all this wine stocked up. They were rich hoarders,” Sharon babbled.
“You should have come to the city. I’m here, Tony’s here. Or, at least, he was here. I’m not sure where he headed off to but it seemed important. But Pepper and I are both at the tower. We’d have gotten drunk with you.” Maria offered and Sharon could feel her smile through the phone which was comforting. “So, why’d you get fired?” Maria asked and that subtle feeling of comfort sank a little bit.
“So much has happened with these stupid heroes. Steve and Sam and Bucky were all taken into custody and the guys lost their gear to the CIA. I thought I was doing the right thing, getting their stuff back to them. No, I knew I was doing the right thing. And then I got fired for it.” Sharon explained.
“That’s a pretty touchy subject over here so, maybe don’t bring all of this up to Tony right now, okay?” Maria sounded hesitant. “Sorry you lost your job but you know how to put your big girl panties on and do whatever needs to be done next.” Maria told Sharon exactly what she needed to hear, offered her exactly what their friendship had been built off of.
“That’s what I’m having trouble figuring out. What do I do next? I don’t have anything to strive toward and this lack of ambition is killing me,” Sharon muttered.
“Sharon Carter without a ten-part plan to get whatever she wants. Now that’s something I’ve never seen before. So, you blew the CIA. Fuck them. They don’t deserve you. Come work with us. Pepper will hire you. You can do security with me. Or I can even hook you back up with Shield.” Maria strategized, planning Sharon’s future for her since Sharon was drunk and depressed and a little bit pathetic.
“I would take Shield back in a heartbeat. I thought I’d never be part of any of that again after the Trisk but I’ve always wondered if I could find my way back to my old job.” Sharon sounded like a kid making a confession about what she wanted to be when she grew up.
“I’ll get ahold of Phil,” Maria offered resolutely.
“Wait, Phil’s alive?” Sharon asked suddenly and Maria laughed again.
“This is a wacky business we’ve all gotten ourselves into, isn’t it?” Maria asked teasingly.
“How is Phil alive?” Sharon asked again. Maybe she was more drunk than she thought.
“You can ask him yourself. I’ll text you a location and you can meet up with a Quinjet by tomorrow afternoon. Does your parents’ snobby neighborhood still have a landing strip?” Maria joked.
“Thank you, Maria, you’re my hero. Avengers my ass, ladies get shit done,” Sharon murmured into her phone only to hear Maria snicker.
“Go sleep it off Carter, you’ve got a new future to kick off come morning,” Maria offered and then the line went dead. Sharon fell asleep on the couch in her silk pajamas feeling more at ease now that she had something new to work toward.