"Well, well, long time no see, Sammy girl."
Sam stared, her eyes wide and face pale at the man sitting before her, bruised and cut up, but that ever present cocky smirk (which she used to love) was plastered on his face as he looked her up and down slowly.
"You're looking real good Sam." Brock winked at her, but Sam was still in a severe state of shock.
"Do you two know each other?" Natasha asked, her eyes boring into Sam, same as Steve's.
Sam swallowed before answering, her throat dry as she stared at the man she had married at the tender age of eighteen, only to walk out on him ten years later, in order to save what was left of her sanity (Riley, God rest his soul, had always asked her why she married him). And here they had come full circle ten years later; the platinum wedding band on the chain around her neck, which she wore under her shirt, was burning a hole through her chest right next to Riley's dog tags.
"Yeah, you could say that." Her voice was raspy as if she had been screaming, and she had on the inside, since she set foot in that fucking interrogation room. Her only consolation was the fact that Brock looked just as surprised at seeing her.
"Of course we know each other." The smile on Brock's face was malicious, and Sam could feel her world shattering around her. "We shared a marriage bed, isn't that right Mrs. Brock Rumlow?"
It was as if all the air was sucked out of the room; Sam felt three pairs of eyes on her and she wondered if they could hear how loud her heart was beating.
She didn't think as she turned and hightailed it out of the interrogation room.
"You got a lot of explaining to do Sam!" Brock's voice followed her, Steve was close behind her and the sound of Natasha's fist colliding with Brock's jaw echoed behind her, as she ran to escape the past that had finally caught up with her.