Brooklyn sat against the wall next to the slightly propped open door of the bathroom, listening to her father shower. She knew he would have been perfectly fine with her sitting in the bathroom, but as she looked at the phone in her hand, she was aware that if she decided to make this call, he would not be happy.

Not at all.

She kept scrolling down to Rogers' name, her finger hovering over it, before staring at it until the screen went black. Over and over.

She knew she should call Rogers. She knew if she did, all she had to say was, 'I found my father' and Rogers would be at the door of the hotel room within hours. She knew that if she called him, he would help her convince her father to return with them, to get the help he still needed. If she called Rogers, her family could be back together, and Juliana would have a father.

If she called Rogers, she wouldn't be alone anymore. Her father would be there to help carry the burden of daily life. She wouldn't have to do this all by herself, anymore.

But she also knew that if she called Rogers, now, all his detoxing would go to waste. He'd have to start over, and given some of the things he'd been saying, the way he had been saying them, she was aware that he wouldn't allow a separation a second time, no matter how good it was for him. He would fight her, tooth and nail, to keep her from putting space between them. She would have to push and push and push, and he would keep holding on, no matter how detrimental it was for him.

And her father would find out she had been a fool, and ruined herself with Steve Rogers. That she had allowed that man to get under her skin, into her heart, and mess with her head. That all his training had been thrown out the window, the minute those American sky blue eyes had met hers.

That really wasn't a can of worms she wanted to open, with her father.

She really didn't want to deal with the fall out of her father finding out that she had slept with his best friend. She couldn't imagine he would be particularly pleased with that. Every time he had even mentioned that one day she would leave him for a boy, or man, he had made it very clear that he believed there would never be one good enough for her, worthy enough of her. The idea that Rogers, who was by far the best man she had ever met, would still not measure up, in her father's eyes, was a valid one. That, and she was well aware by now, how people would view both the age difference and the relationship between the three of them. She had been reading. She had read how people thought women like her had 'daddy issues', and that she was seeking to replace the affection she craved from her father by sleeping or reaching out to men of her father's age or social status. She had read how people would view Rogers as some sort of predator, preying on her innocence, her ignorance, her vulnerability. There would be a belief that Rogers had found her, and proceeded to move in with the express intent of manipulating her into a sexual situation that would allow him to have control over her.

The idea that Rogers, for all the darkness he liked to pretend didn't exist, would deliberately go out of his way to tie someone with her issues up in a way that allowed him to try to control her was laughable. If, and she felt this was something that needed to be stressed, IF Rogers had wanted to do something of that nature, she had certainly played into his hands by deciding that she was going to take ownership of him.

Granted, there had been some obvious attempts, on his part, to try to seduce her in the beginning. Which, considering what they knew now about the suppressors, seemed like a lesson in futility. But then something had changed. She had started to respond, probably earlier than she had thought. She knew now that she had started to develop feelings for Rogers. Long before she had first let him touch her, well demand that he touch her, she had started to feel that pressure in her chest that she now knew meant she had been falling in love with the damned idiot.

That's why his defense of Carter and the rejection of Brooklyn's accusations against the woman had hurt so much, why the realization that Carter had his heart first was so terrible for her. How could she compete with someone who was so worldly, so strong, and so driven like Carter? Even though the woman was old, and from all accounts dying, she still would remain young and beautiful to Rogers. That's how that worked, right?

Even if Brooklyn somehow was able to capture his heart, like she had his sexual hunger, Carter would always occupy a corner of his heart that she would never be able to touch. That love for Carter would always remain. She would always be fighting the ghost of his former lover.

And Brooklyn didn't know if she wanted to even begin that fight. It didn't seem like it would be one she would ever be able to win.

So maybe it was better this way, like Rogers had suggested. Maybe it was better, that he gained his freedom from her now. Before she dug herself any deeper. Before he ripped out her heart and left her bleeding out on the floor.

Before Papa found out and did something that he would never forgive himself, or her, for.

Because Brooklyn was pretty sure Papa was going go have a very dim view of how a relationship between her and Rogers should be. Sex was definitely not an option. Let alone what Papa might do if he found out she had fallen in love with Rogers. And had her heart broken because of it.

So, the course was clear.

Papa could never know she had been in a relationship, no matter how short, with Rogers. She would never be able to return to that apartment in Carroll Gardens, above Carmine's bakery, for good. She would have to return to New York, if only briefly, to get Juliana, to get the banking information so they had the money to survive, and to say good bye to the people who had made it possible for her and her sister to survive when they had first arrived. She considered, briefly about the idea of saying goodbye to Rogers, if only to put an end to that chapter of her life. But she rejected it.

Rogers would not let her go, not without a fight. He wouldn't understand, her need to leave. He was still caught up in the effects of the pheromones. And unless Banner was able to find someway to block the effects, it wouldn't be safe to be near Rogers. She had run that risk with Wilson, and thankfully he had not shown any effects. Most likely due to the actual amount of time they spent near each other. Rogers had taken to getting as close as physically possible, almost from the first day he had met her.

So, unfortunately, her last words to Rogers, at least until he caught up to her and her family, would be 'go to hell'.

She would have to switch phones. Rogers knew people who would be able to follow the one she had. No doubt it wouldn't take him long to cotton on to the fact that she had gone to ground. Especially if Juliana didn't show up to school after a certain amount of time. The school would call her first, and then eventually Rogers. That would give her maybe a few days head start. Once that happened, he would, depending on how well the detoxing went, hit the ground running looking for them. It would be more difficult for them to hide, with Juliana. A child required things that adults could live without.

Schooling would be one thing that would be hard to avoid. Almost every country dense enough in population for them to both get lost in enough to avoid detection, and be common enough in appearance to not stand out, required some sort of standard form of education. They would have to move more often, to avoid that completely. Perhaps, she would be able to convince Kitty to help her arrange for Juliana to go to a school similar to the one the girls Brooklyn had saved had gone to. It tore her up, to think that she would be removing Juliana from one situation where she felt safe, surrounded by people she had grown to love and trust, and drop her in an unfamiliar country with people who were completely new, only to abandon her there. Especially so that Brooklyn could run around the world with their father, in some attempt to bring him back to a safe enough level that he would be okay with Rogers finding them.

God knew how long that might take.

So, yes. The first thing to ditch would be the phone. Maybe that would be the way she could say goodbye to Rogers, and even Wilson. A quick call, or text to Wilson, thanking him for everything he had tried to do, while they had been meeting for their chats. How kind he had been to her, in the efforts to help her find a steady footing both with herself, and the things that had been done to her. She felt she owed Wilson that much, at least.

Rogers... that would not be an easy phone call, she feared. At least for her. Maybe he would have been able to get his head on straight by then. Maybe he would resist the idea of her leaving, if only because she would be removing Juliana from him, as well. And despite how she knew the feelings he had would have for herself would fade given enough time away from her pheromones, she had no doubt he loved Juliana. And the loss of that little girl would hurt him.

She wondered if maybe it would be better to leave Juliana with Rogers. To let him keep her, raise her. But something she told Wilson, a bit back, was true. Rogers was not exactly high on the list of people that agencies would let adopt children, with very good reason. His work had a low survival rate. He did come from a period where how children were raised would be considered abusive, now. He had no family, no fall back. The only thing that really recommended him was his heroic title.

Brooklyn had no doubt that Rogers would do his best by Juliana. He would shower with love and affection. He would make sure she was at school each day. He would make sure she was fed.

But what about those times when the call of saving the world proved to be more important? The days he was sometimes away, what if something were to happen? What if Juliana needed him, and he was in the middle of a fight? Would he be able to drop everything to run back to attend to the needs of the little girl?

No, It would be better for Juliana,to be more stable, if Brooklyn took her and put her in a boarding school. At the very least, at the holidays, she would be able to spend time with her older sister and father. Her affection and need for Rogers would fade with time, as she grew up. She would one day see that this was the best choice. The safest choice for her and the rest of her dysfunctional family.

And Brooklyn wasn't saying that because she wanted to avoid seeing Steve Rogers face to face, ever again, if she could help it.

In all honesty, Brooklyn just wanted to forget that she had ever allowed herself to believe she could have the sort of normal a life with Rogers he had promised. Granted, it was a promise she had started to allow herself to believe in. Even want. But the hard reality was that girls like her, with her past, didn't get the guy, didn't get the peace they didn't deserve, and sure as hell didn't get the happily ever after that the books hinted at. There was no knight in shining armor. There was no Castle in the Sky.

There wasn't even a rose garden.

There was just the lesson that they needed to stay in their lane. That they needed to remember who and what they were. That one day, if they were very lucky, they might find someone who was just as bad as they were, and hope that they didn't kill each other in the months they might have together.

If she wanted to avoid seeing Rogers again, it was only because she had a feeling that she would break her own resolve, and beg him on hands and knees to not leave her, or to allow her to remain at his side and in his bed.

She was pulled out of her thoughts by the sound of the shower shutting off, the dripping water, and the sound of her father's sigh echoing through the grandly tiled bathroom. Looking down at the phone, she nodded, before rocking to her feet.

"I left the clothing I sent out for you, on the counter by the sink, Papa. Along with the shaving kit. When you are ready, if you want, I'll trim your hair?" She suggested, peering through the door, seeing the scarred edge of his shoulder, where metal met flesh.

"Sounds like a good idea, Baby Girl." Her father responded. His voice was rough, as if from not much use. "Give me a minute, and I'll be right out."

"I can wait." She assured, stepping back from the door. "Do you want me to order you some food?"

"If you wouldn't mind? Then you and I are gonna have a talk about how you can afford all of this." Her father's voice was stern, but she grinned anyway. She didn't care what kind of lecture she was going to get for falling in with the mafia. Her father was here. Papa was here!

Turning away, she all but skipped to the phone across the room, sitting down on the bed, before picking up the receiver. Punching in the buttons, she waited until the lady at the other end answered. After a quick inquiry about whether the kitchen was still available for food, and waiting for the confirmation, Brooklyn ordered food for her father. Thick hearty soup, breads, meats, vegetables, fruit, and a fair selection of sweets were all ordered. She wasn't sure what her father would like to eat. To be honest, she wasn't sure she even knew his favorite food, before he was captured by HYRDA, but she was well aware that he would be able to pack as much of it away as possible. God knew, she had gotten her metabolism from him. She also requested a pair of scissors. The lady assured her it wouldn't take long for the food to be delivered, which made Brooklyn relax a bit.

She wasn't sure how rough Papa had been living, since leaving her. He looked tired, his clothes had holes in them, and his boots were damn near worn through. His hair was longer, he had been scruffy and dirty, and just generally unkempt. If she had to guess, he hadn't had a real solid meal since the one they had been given after his last wipe in DC. She didn't know what he had been doing, or how he had been surviving, but she was just glad she was going to be able to take care of him, from there on out.

She heard her father humming, as she sat on the bed, and she couldn't help but smile. The place they were at wasn't the best, really. It was too grand for them. But for now, it would allow her to assess how much work she had ahead of herself, to maybe get her father at a stable place.

He would fight her, for a bit, she was sure. But they shared too much combined past for him to really have a leg to stand on. And she had the solid argument that they had gone through so much of it together, that it was only right that they pull themselves up through it, together. Nothing they had ever tried to accomplish in HYDRA ever failed when they worked together. Surely dealing with their past sins wouldn't be any different.

Granted, the first thing they needed to go over was making sure that he realized how absolutely furious she was with him, for leaving her like he had in DC. That sort of thing had been completely unacceptable. And she was going to make sure he was damned aware of it, before they went any further, really. Well, after she was sure he was fed and cleaned up.

He came out of the bathroom, dressed in the clean clothes she had left for him, rubbing his head with a towel, his face clean shaven. She smiled, and he returned it.

There seemed to be a sense of relaxation about him. One that she was sure a good shower and shave helped him achieve. There was still a touch of wariness in his eyes, but for the most part, his face was smooth of worry.

"So, you want to tell me how you're able to afford this place?" He asked, resting the towel on the back of a chair before brushing his hair out of his face with his hands.

"My employer paid for it." She explained, turning on the bed, to bring her knees up to her chest. Papa was not gonna be happy in a moment, she knew.

"And who do you work for?" He frowned, pausing as he looked around the room. "And what exactly are you doing for them, that they would put you up here?"

"The Marino family. Of New York. And I do whatever they require me to do, now. I mean, I used to work in one of their clubs, serving drinks, dancing, bar tending, that sort of thing. But I helped out with a situation they had, with the Russian mafia, and now...I guess I'm what you would call 'a jack of all trades' for them." she watched as her father seemed to be taking in the information.

"The Marino family? That was the last name of that kid, right? The one who I sent you off with?" He frowned even deeper. "Wait, didn't he say his uncle was... what was it?"
"The head of an Italian mafia family." She said dryly, waiting.

"The Italian mafia." He crossed his arms, lowering his head to look at the carpet. "Wait... dancing? What type of club was this? One of those, what... dance with the patrons place? Like when I was younger?"
"No." she shook her head, sighing. "It was a gentleman's club, Papa. I... I took of my clothes, for money."

Papa jerked his head up, staring at her, his eyes widening, before going narrow. "I didn't raise you to be a whore, Brooklyn Barnes."

"Don't you dare." She snapped. Launching herself off the bed, she stomped over to him, poking him in the chest. "You left me. You shoved me in a car with a man I barely knew, and left me. I had no skills, no friends, no backup, in a world I didn't even know! I had no way to make sure that Juliana and I would be okay! The Marino's took me in, they took in Juliana. They took care of us, and got us on our feet. They made us a part of their family, when they didn't have to, just because they liked us. And yes, when Mr. Marino suggested the job at the club, I was hesitant. But it started out as a waitress and a bartender. I only danced when I wanted to, when I was ready to. And it was only topless. And no one EVER touched me. I didn't do private dances, I didn't put up with men touching me while I was on the floor. I made damn good money, for five minutes work. Enough that I was able to afford to pay for two years of tuition at a private school for Juliana. Enough that I was able to take care of my sister in a manner that I felt a child like her deserved. So you don't get to judge me, or call me a whore. Not you, Papa. Not when everything I have ever done has been for this family. For you, for Juliana."

Papa placed a hand over her mouth, before shaking his head. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. I know you aren't... you wouldn't... I know you are a good girl. I don't want to fight, not with you."

She nodded, under his hand, and he let her go, before hauling her in close, wrapping his arms around her, pressing a kiss to her head.

"So, you work for the mafia." He tried to sound upbeat. "I assume you are making good money?"
"yeah." She tilted her head back, grinning at him. "I make a fair amount. So, money isn't going to be an issue for us, from here on out. You'll see, Papa. I've got us covered."

Brooklyn realized, in that moment, that her plans to buy them a house, and for them to live a life where Papa would be safe was going to be gone, if she went on the run with him. There would be no permanence. No real safety net. The Marino's would help, as much as they could , while they could, but even that might be a trail to them that Rogers and Wilson would be able to follow. If she did this, if she allowed them to continue to hide, they would always be looking over their shoulder for the shield bearing savior and his birdbrained friend, possibly for the rest of their natural lives, or until they tripped up and were finally cornered.

He grinned down at her, for a moment, before giving her a stern look. "I'm not happy about you falling in with the mafia. That's not a smart move. I raised you better than that."

She scoffed, pushing away from him. "Please. I've done what I had to, to survive. At least in the beginning. To be fair, the past four months or so, I've done because it was the right thing to do."
"What did you get yourself into, Baby Girl?" He asked, shaking his head.

"Well, I may have decided to stop people from trafficking humans, through New York?" She bit her lip. "Mainly girls and young women."

He let go of her, stepping away, nodding his head. "Go on."

"That's why I'm in Poland. I've been returning the girls to their families." She wrapped her arms around herself, ignoring the guilt at the fact that she wasn't telling the whole truth. "The ones that didn't want to go home, or were rejected by their families are going to a school, in another country. The last girl, the one in the room next door, she's decided to go to the school. So I'll be here another day or so, until it can be arranged."
"Where is your sister in all of this?" He frowned, looking at her.

"With... With the Marino's." She admitted. "They look at her like she's one of their grand children."

Papa went over and sat on the bed. "How well do you know and trust these people? How do you know that they wont' turn you over to whatever government agency might be looking for us?"

"Papa." Brooklyn went over, and knelt down by his feet, reaching out and placing her hands on his knees. "No one is looking for us, like that. There might be someone who might want us to pay for some of the things we have done, yes. But for the most part, it's safe to come home. We can go back to New York. We can live there, safe. Mr. Marino is willing to help us, if we want."

"It's still not safe, Brooklyn." Papa insisted. "We don't know how deep HYDRA went. We don't know how many of them are still out there."

"No one is looking for us." She insisted, still lying.

"Stop it." He snarled, reaching out and grabbing her shoulder, pressing hard, making her hiss. "There is someone on my trail. I've been careful, but there are times I swear someone is following me."

That would have had to have been Wilson, and Rogers. Shit, this might be harder than she thought.

"Well, then it's a good thing I'm here, now, to help you. Between the two of us, we should be faster and better than them. We have always been, when we've been together."

"No." He shook his head, before heaving a sigh. "I can't do that to you."

"It's not about you doing anything. This is me, saying that I'm with you, every step of the way. You and me, we can do anything. How many times have we proved that? How many times do we have to prove that, before you believe me?" She begged, biting her lip, trying to keep the emotions out of the argument.

He was watching her, before he looked a little disgruntled. "You're getting emotional."

"And why shouldn't I?" She demanded. "You fucking left me! You left me, with people I didn't know! All of what we've gone together, and you left me."

"It was for your own good!" He insisted, letting up on her shoulder, turning it to a gentle touch. "I couldn't ask you to-"
"you've never had to ask me!" She cried, shaking her head. "You're my father. There isn't anything I wouldn't do, to make sure that you were safe."

"Including put me under and call out the Soldier?" He asked, sharply, his eyebrows raising, accusing.

She rocked back, falling onto her backside. "What?"

"Did you honestly think I didn't know?" He stood up, looking down at her. "Did you really believe I never knew that they had you do that to me?"

"Is that why?" She asked, softly, shaking her head. "Is that why you left? Because you thought... you thought I would do that to you? When you know I know how much you hate it? After all the times, that Soldier was used against me, to hurt me, you thought that I would use him?"
"If you honestly thought that it was the only way to keep us safe?" He asked, looking away, his jaw working for a bit, before clenching it. "Yeah. I think you might. Because you don't understand how things are, up here." He tapped his head. "How messed up it is in there. That guy, on the bridge, and on the helicarrier. He was someone I knew. He was my friend. And I tried to kill him, for the sake of the mission. A mission you sent me out on."

"I didn't..." She took a deep breath. "I never wanted you to hurt him. Because I knew how much it would hurt you, in the end. Because he was your friend."

"You stood back, and let them order me to kill Steve Rogers." He accused, his hands clenching into fists, his eyes narrowing. "You would have let them order me to kill my childhood friend."

"What the hell was I supposed to do, Papa?" She rolled to her feet, getting in his face. "What the Hell would you have had me do? Risk all of us, over a man I didn't know? A man I.... My life, your life, Juliana's life... would he have been worth that? Would he have been worth what they would have done to me, before they forced me to watch them kill you and my sister? I made the only choice I had in there. I survived. I made sure Juliana survived. I made sure that we survived. That was the only option available. I refuse to apologize for it."

He looked at her, angry. "You refuse to apologize for taking away my free will, and bringing out that monster. Who the hell are you?"
"Your daughter." She snarled, poking him in the chest. "Who has done everything she has been able to do, to keep you alive for decades."
he took her hand in his, stopping her from poking him again. "I never asked you to."

"You didn't have to. I did it because I love you. I did it, because it was the only way to keep you safe. I did it because, goddammit, you are the only person on the face of this earth who has ever made me feel like I was worth anything beyond what's between my legs." She took a deep breath. "I did it, because I refused to let them destroy you, more than they already had, when there was still so much good left in you, despite what they made you do."

She pulled her hand away from his, wrapping her arms around herself, taking a deep breath. "I was never okay with it. I hated it, every time. I never liked it, I never wanted it. But given the alternatives, I had to make the best choice, with what was going on at the time. I'm sorry, that you think I should apologize for making sure of our survival. Because it wasn't just yours, Papa. It was mine, too."

He let out a breath, heavily. "Did you ever think... maybe it would have just been better for us... if we just... let them put us down?"
"No." She shook her head. "Never. After what happened with Grant.... I think... I think it was about then, when I decided that I wasn't going to let them beat us down to nothing. I know for certain after what happened with Rebecca... I know after that, I was certain I wasn't going to let them.... I had to do what I did, to make sure that they didn't win. Because I wasn't going to let them, in the end. And yes, it took me far too long to move, when there might have been better options, before. But... with what was going on, with the Helicarriers... that program they sent you out to protect... for the first time I really thought we had a fair chance at getting away, alive. All of us. Because I didn't want to leave you behind. Ever."

Brooklyn turned and glared at him. "But that still didn't stop you from leaving me behind. After all of it. You still left me behind."

Papa shook his head. "I had to."
"Bullshit." She snapped. "You had... you could have let me stay with you."
"And spend the rest of your life trying to put me back together?" He waved his hand at her. "Even if you didn't... you still would be following me around, making sure I didn't fall into some bullshit. What kind of life would that have been for you? Really, Baby Girl. Did you expect me to just... keep you to myself, for the rest of your life?"

"Why not?" She challenged, daring him to make her stop. "What would have changed, from before?"

He took a step towards her, lowering his head as he met her challenge. "What would have changed? Everything. You would have had to hold me together, as well as take care of your sister. Between the two of us, we would have sucked all the life out of you. And it would have gotten worse, as time went on. You never would have grown. You never would have explored anything outside of our family. And you are.... you are worth so much more than that." His voice fell to a soft tone. "I wanted and still want, more for you, than that."

She finally couldn't push the emotions back anymore. Even as she felt the tears prick her eyes, she met his. "You are my father. You have been my only companion, for decades. In what world would I not have been honored to make sure that you were just as safe? You have been my only solid... the only real thing, in my life, for so long. You were my best friend, my only playmate, my teacher, my leader, my father. Why would you ever think that I would want to move on, without you? I compare almost everyone I meet, against you. Or I wonder, what would you think of them? Would you trust them? I hear your voice, in my sleep. I crave your smell, when I have a bad day. I ache from the loss of you. Because you have been the only parent I have ever had. I never learned what the words 'I miss you' truly meant, until I reached for your hand, and it wasn't there." She reached up, swiping at her wet cheeks. "And you hurt me. So bad, Papa. But even that... even now, I forgive you. Because I don't know how to do anything but that. I cant even imagine... I don't think there is anything you could do to me, that would never make me forgive you. If only because I love you. Because you are my Papa."

He reached out, cupping her cheeks, his face sad, before he leaned down, pressing his lips to her forehead. "I love you, too. But you have to see why this can't work. Why we can't keep doing this to ourselves. I love you too much, to make you be my caretaker, for the rest of your life. You deserve to live yours. You deserve to find someone who makes you so happy, that you forget about your old Papa. Someone who is gonna make you realize that you are a good person."

She thought of Rogers, in that moment, but pushed him away. It wasn't going to work, not now, not ever. Rogers wasn't hers to have. "Who the hell is ever gonna compare to you, Papa?"

"I don't know." He sighed, before kissing her forehead, then bending to rest his against hers. "But I know there is someone out there, who just might come close. And maybe I'll be okay with that. One day."

"Never." She denied, closing her eyes tight. "No one is ever gonna measure up, against you, Papa."

He chuffed out a laugh. "Never say never, Baby Girl. The world might yet surprise you. I mean, you always have surprised me."

She voiced what he wasn't saying. "You aren't going home with me. And you aren't going to allow me to stay with you."

"No." He sighed, heavily. "I know you think we are safe, but I still feel like... there's something. And I'm still not free from what they did to me. If we were ever captured together, they could use us against each other, if not out right have you bring out... It's not safe. And Juliana needs one of us stable enough to raise her. unfortunately, Baby Girl, that's you."

"It's not fair!" She cried, feeling childish, while the tears leaked out from under her closed eyes. "It's just not fair. After everything we did.... why? Why can't we just... please?"

"Brooklyn." His voice was stern, so she opened her eyes, looking at him while she sniffed. "I gave you a mission, when I left. Are you telling me you are refusing it?"

She gave a short shake of her head. "No. I am not. But I just... I want to be selfish. I want it all. I want my family. I want my father. I don't want to return to New York without you. I'm tired of doing all of this by myself. I'm tired of being strong. It's too much, what you've asked of me. I am just.... I'm tired, Papa. I need you with me. I can't do this by myself, not anymore. And I'm worried you're going to miss too much. Too much of her life. Too much of my life. What if you finally feel like you're ready to return to us, and we have moved on...? What if we don't need you anymore?"
"Then I will be one of the proudest Papa's on the face of the earth. Because that means that somehow, I got lucky enough to have the strongest daughters on the face of the earth." He gave her a sad smile, his own eyes a little wet. "But I don't think there will ever come a time, when you will move on from me. Because we are one, you and I. Our blood is one. I am as much inside you, as you are inside me. That is one thing that will never change. No matter where we go, or how long we spend apart. You are my home, my north star. I will follow you to where you are, just by feeling for it. And nothing is ever gonna break that bond, Baby Girl. That is one thing I can promise you."

She wanted to believe that. She wanted to believe his words. But things still remained.

"Did you ever forgive me?" She asked quietly. "For what I did to Grant?"

He forced her to look at him, his hands strong and insistent on her face. "You listen to me. What happened to Grant... You were still a child, Brooklyn. You were in a very bad place, with bad things happening to you. You had no power over what was happening to you, to me, to any of us. And I had... I had traumatized you by trying to take you from the only place you had ever known. Even as evil as they were, and what they made you do, it had to have been traumatizing. They made you watch, while they hurt me. And then Grant... He wasn't like us, Baby Girl. He was... he was a believer. He had been raised to believe, and he did. You were asked to make a choice. And it was an impossible choice. One I never would have ever wanted you to be in a position to make. I know somewhere in your head this idea that... it doesn't matter. Because you made a choice, and you have had to live with it. I forgave you, as soon as you pulled that trigger. Because as much as I hated... as much as I never wanted to see you kill your brother, I am, and have always been, eternally grateful that you weren't left alone in that place. I got to watch you to continue to grow, and bloom. I got to watch you become the strong woman you are today. I wish I had been stronger, to make them never put you in that position, in the first place. I wish I had been the right Papa for you, one that would have been able to keep you free the moment I stole you. I wish... I wish I hadn't had to raise you in that place, with those people. But, I never blamed you, for what happened. I never blamed you for killing Grant. Because you didn't. Not really. The way I see it, HYDRA put us in that position, so HYDRA killed your brother. Just like they killed your mother. Just like they killed the rest of your siblings. I have never held you responsible. Because you weren't. They were." He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, and Brooklyn closed her eyes briefly at the familiar soothing feeling of it. "Do you understand me, Baby Girl? I always forgave you, because really, there was nothing to forgive. That was not your sin. It was theirs."

Trying to accept his words, wanting to accept his words, she nodded. "I don't think I could have asked for a better Papa, then the one I got. You did the best you could, with what we had. You taught me to love, even if it was only you. You taught me to be strong. You taught me to believe in myself and my abilities. You taught me... its okay to be human. You loved me. Through it all, you loved me, and you never gave up on me. How could I have ever asked for a better Papa?"

"You could have asked for one who didn't hurt you." He blinked, his own eyes wet with tears, ones he wasn't trying to fight. His eyes were filled with shame, and pain, and regret.

She gave him a watery smile, as her own tears fell. "Did you want to hurt me?"
"Never." he shook his head sharply as he began to cry. "I never wanted to hurt you, Brooklyn."

"You tell me, that I shouldn't blame myself for Grant's death. Because it's not my sin. It was theirs. Why can't you accept that, for yourself? You never wanted to hurt me. You didn't want to live that way. They forced it on us. We are both victims. If my... actions during our lives in HYDRA aren't my sins.." She took a deep breath, trying to push the words out, through her own tears, sobbing softly, before continuing, "Then they weren't yours either. You tell me you forgave me, even though you didn't think you needed to, because I wasn't really at fault. The same is true for me. I forgave you, almost instantly. Because it wasn't your fault, what you were made to do, to keep us alive. If they aren't my sins, then they were never yours."

He bent down, looping an arm under her knees, picking her up and placing her on his lap, like a little child, as he sat down on the bed. Wrapping his arm around her, he held her close as he bent his head onto her shoulder, and began to cry, still asking her for forgiveness.

She laid a hand on the back of his head, while running the other up over his metal arm, to the place where machine met man, stroking her fingers along the scar tissue, as soothing as she could. As much hurt as they had done to each other, as much pain as they had lived through and caused, not just to each other, but to other people, they would always be stronger together. That was who they were. That was who they always were.

"One day, we will be able to look at each other, and not have the memories in the way." She promised. Closing her eyes, she let herself believe her own words, if only for a moment. "I promise, Papa. One day."

"One day." He sobbed, nodding. "One day, Baby Girl."

A/N: Just stick with me, okay? We'll get there, in the end. I promise. Vote and comment!