Welcome back for chapter 2! I just want to say thank you for the amazing amount of attention this story has been getting recently. I'm so glad everyone enjoys it :)
Disclaimer: See Chapter 1
Enjoy!
The flight back to the mainland was nerve wracking at best; rain pelted the helicopter from all angles and there were a few times Wanda worried a stray gust of wind was going to knock them right out of the sky. Scott and Sam pelted Steve with questions-mostly wanting to know exactly where Bucky was and where they were planning to go now that they were all wanted criminals. Steve responded with vague one word answers, keeping his eyes on the water and an almost sly smile on his face; somehow, Wanda didn't think he minded keeping them wondering. All he would say was that he had taken care of everything and they would be perfectly safe.
For a while she was happy with the change in plans; she no longer had to worry about one of her captors using the shock collar on her if they felt she was stepping out of line and she could look out at the roiling ocean (and later the crowded streets of downtown Washington on a sunny Sunday afternoon in the middle of May) instead of a sterile concrete wall. But all too soon the doubts became crawling back, gnawing at her brain like a parasite-maybe it was for the best that she stay imprisoned, unable to use her powers. It kept people safe; it kept her from hurting anybody accidentally...like what had happened in Lagos…She dug her fingers into the palms of her hands so hard she drew blood, involuntarily gasping. Clint glanced over at her in concern but she pretended to occupy herself looking out the window and trying not to think at all.
"Did you get a halfway decent getaway car this time?" Sam asked as they landed on the tarmac in a nearly deserted airfield a few miles outside Washington. Steve handed out hoodies and they all clambered outside into the sunshine; it was more than disconcerting after the harsh florescent lighting of the Raft, but no one gave the five fugitives a second look as they crossed the airfield and climbed into a waiting car idling on the shoulder of the road.
Steve rolled his eyes as he climbed in the passenger's seat of a slightly beat up KIA that looked like every other car on the road. "I don't know. You tell me. And you're never going to let me live that down, are you?"
"Nope." Sam muttered as he took his seat in the middle row-glaring daggers at the back of Bucky's head, who was sitting in the front seat and seemed extremely proud of himself.
"Can we turn on some music?" Scott added. "That always helps me relax after I've almost died inside of a helicopter."
"Not the Mexican stuff." Clint muttered, and Wanda silently agreed. They'd let Scott listen to his music for nearly the entire drive from the airport in Germany-and that had not been a good decision. In fact, it had taken them both all the self control they had not to murder him after the forty fifth song full of sexual innuendos they couldn't understand.
"Aww. Fine. Well, what do you guys like to listen to then? Or do you want me to guess? Steve, I'm getting a classical/big band vibe from you; same with you, Winter Soldier, maybe with a little hint of classic rock thrown in there-"
"It's Bucky." said Winter Soldier responded, looking out the window expressionlessly.
"-And for Clint...obviously hard rock. Maybe a little bit of classic, but definitely hard rock. Sam...I'm going to have to go with bluegrass." Sam obviously took offense at that but Scott kept talking before he could cut him off. "Wanda, you're difficult to place also...but given the fact that you kind of give off that angsty teenager vibe sometimes, I think I'll go with rock-whatever kind you can find to listen to-with just a touch of emo stuff. I mean, I've noticed that you like to wear black all of the time-"
His incessant chatter was giving her a killer headache. "Are you physically incapable of being quiet for just five minutes?"
"Sorry. Hey, come to think of it that's exactly what my ex wife said a couple of weeks before she sent for divorce papers."
"So, where're we going Steve?" Clint interrupted.
"A safe house." Steve replied vaguely. "Make yourselves comfortable-it's going to be a long drive." He merged expertly into traffic and they hit the road, angling out of town and up towards New York State.
At first the car was filled with excited chatter as everyone got over their initial excitement at being out of jail-and even on the run to a certain extent. Scott was convinced they should travel internationally, especially to Europe, while Bucky would be just fine with hiding out in a safe house containing a television set and a very large stack of books for the rest of his life. However, as the minutes began to pass and the concept of being free became less and less foreign, conversation started to taper off. People spent more time looking out the window than engaging in conversation and then went from looking out the window to trying to catch up on all the sleep they'd missed while in the Raft.
Her brain kept on working and she couldn't shut it off; replaying Lagos over and over in her head. She could have done so many things differently, worked so much faster to save those people...despite what Steve said, she knew it was her fault. She should have contained that explosion-and then they wouldn't be here right now and none of this would have happened. They'd still be a team, not factions.
Clint had to say her name twice before she finally heard him. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly, looking at the little cuts on her palms that were still red with dried blood.
"I'm fine." she replied. It was an easy lie, one she'd grown accustomed to using a lot over the past year-especially in the first few months, when her grief for her brother was so great that she barely found the energy to get out of bed in the mornings.
"It doesn't look like it."
She sighed. It was impossible to lie to either Clint or Natasha. "Fine. I'm...working on it, then."
"When was the last time you got some decent sleep?"
"A few days ago. It's hard to sleep in a straitjacket." In actuality, she hadn't gotten good sleep in two and a half weeks-ever since Lagos.
"Try to get some sleep. We've still got a few hours to go before we get there." He noticed the way she quickly glanced around the car, as if he could guess that she was worried that if she did fall asleep she might wake up back in her cell. "It's going to be okay. You're safe here-well, as safe as you can be when you're on the run."
She nodded and shifted so she was looking out the window. They'd left Washington DC far behind them and were now driving through Maryland, bound for the New York border and passing small villages and acres of empty farmland and forest alike. It was a peaceful view-and very calming, when coupled with the lull of the car and the soft hum of the air conditioning.
Even so it took her a long time to drop into a rather restless sleep, trying to be secure in the knowledge that her team would still be there when she woke up.
~A~
"I'm worried about her." Clint nodded at Wanda, who had finally managed to fall asleep.
Steve sighed, glancing up at the rear view mirror while keeping one eye on the road. "Yeah. Me too."
"She's been in a maximum security prison cell for the past four days-not to mention the world still blames her for what happens in Lagos...the last thing she needs is to worry about being caught by the government again. They'll only see her as more dangerous than she already is...and I don't even want to think about what they'd do to her to remedy that in the interests of 'public safety'." He sighed, drumming his fingers on the windowpane. "I'm starting to think it might have been a bad call to rescue her from the compound. I mean sure,she was confined there...but she had Vision to keep her company and she seemed fairly happy. She was hesitant to go-but I'm the one who pushed her."
"She made her choice. Yes, I agree that it wasn't fair but...we couldn't have left her there. She's a member of the team, Clint. If we're gearing up for a fight, of course she wants to be a part of it. She's an adult-I think sometimes we forget that. You gave her a choice and she made her decision, just like we all did when we decided not to sign the Accords. But I agree; she has to learn how to control her abilities-for her own sake, just as much as for others. Any good ideas?"
"I'll look something up in the yellow pages." Clint replied sarcastically.
They lapsed into an uneasy silence as the miles slipped by, the only ones still awake besides Bucky-who sat very still and looked directly forward as though he was guarding them.
"I don't think I was able to thank you for what you did." Clint continued after a suitable interval had passed. "For rescuing us. I have to admit, I figured you wouldn't be able to come through. The Raft isn't exactly the easiest place to break into."
Steve grinned. "You didn't think I was just going to abandon the four of you-did you? You're my team-we look out for each other."
"Not that we're much of a team anymore." He thought about Vision, Rhodey, Natasha, and Tony-and how they might never see each other again.
"Yeah, we're a team." Steve countered. "We're not the one we were before, but we're still a team. You can be sure of that." He took a sharp left, taking an exit that would get them off the highway. "And I don't think Wanda is the only one who needs a little bit of time to recuperate."
"Can you tell me where we're going now?"
"When we stop to get something to eat."
"When will that be?"
"Another couple of hours at least."
Clint just rolled his eyes. "I know this is stupid, but did you by any chance happen to pick up our phones?"
"As a matter of fact, I did-but I'm going to need Scott's help making sure they're wiped and untraceable. It might take a few days. Why? Do you need to call your wife?"
"That would probably be best. I need to tell her and the kids that I won't be home for dinner. Cooper and Lila are going to be so disappointed; we were going to go water skiing this weekend. First time this season."
"I'm sorry." It was blatantly obvious that they wouldn't be going water skiing again anytime soon.
"What do you think is going to happen to them when General Ross realizes we escaped?"
Steve sighed. "It's impossible to say. I think they should be fine-but I'd wait a few days to call so they can have as much deniability as possible. After all, they know just as much as everyone else does right about now-they don't need to lie to the law enforcement." He cleared his throat and handed him his cell phone. "But they're probably worried sick...Call Laura. Just for five minutes."
Clint nodded his thanks and typed in the number gratefully. The phone rang once, twice...and then Laura picked up, sounding panicked. "Clinton Francis Barton, where in God's name did you go?"
"It's nice to talk to you too." he replied, trying to keep his tone sounding light. "Did I make the evening news?"
"Yes-you're everywhere. And there's a ten thousand dollar reward for information leading to your arrest."
"Well, that makes me feel special."
She sighed in annoyance and Clint could practically see her standing in the kitchen, balancing the phone between her shoulder and her ear and rolling her eyes while she expertly cooked spaghetti bolognaise. "Can't you ever be serious about anything? The kids and I have been worried sick! Ever since what happened in Leipzig-"
"Laura, I know. I'm really sorry. I would have called if I could, but I only escaped today."
"That would explain why you're calling on Steve's phone. Are you with him?"
He glanced at the front seat, wondering how much he could disclose. "Yes I am. We're all together-and I think we're going to stay that way for quite some time."
"Where are you guys? Is Wanda all right?"
"She's doing as well as you'd expect her to be doing. And...I can't tell you where we are, Laura. When the feds come knocking, it's better for you and the kids if you don't know anything. But I'll stay in touch and call as often as I can."
There was a long moment of silence on the other end of the line. "So you can't come home."
His heart twisted painfully. "I'm going to figure something out-"
"But you're a fugitive, Clint. You can't come back without endangering yourself, can you?"
He sighed. "No. I suppose I can't." There was a long, long silence from the end of the line. "Laura-"
"I thought you said you were going to be retiring. You said you'd had enough of the field. Said you didn't want anything to do with it after what happened in Sokovia."
"Cap called me for help. It's not like I could have said no-he's one of the closest friends I have."
"I suppose that's true." She was very quiet for a few minutes; at first, Clint worried she'd decided to hang up. "What am I supposed to tell the kids?"
"I'm sure they already know."
"They're already so upset with you for cancelling on them, Clint-"
"Laura, you know if I'd had any other choice-"
She sighed again. "I know. I wish I could hate you-in fact, I really want to-but...I can't. Not when you were doing what you feel is the right thing to do. But for God's sake, stay off the radar. The United Nations doesn't need another reason to get mad at you."
He smirked. "I'll try my best not to piss them off. I love you, Laura. Tell the kids I love them too."
"Of course-although I suspect they already know. And we love you too, Clint. Will you be able to call us again?" A note of anxiety entered her voice, as if she was already afraid he'd say no.
"Yeah-it might take a few days to debug my phone, but I'll call as soon as I can. We'll figure this out, Laura. I promise."
"I certainly hope so."
With that she hung up and he silently handed the phone back to Steve. "Thanks for that."
"Anytime. How's she taking the news?"
"She's not happy, obviously-and the kids are going to be devastated. But we'll make it work. I've been gone a lot the past few years anyway; I should have known things weren't going to change." He thought back to what Tony had told him back at the Raft: You have a wife and kids. Shouldn't you have thought about them? And it was true-he should have. They were his family. They meant the world to him. But he also had another family: a completely dysfunctional family of superheroes who needed him just as much as they did. And when Steve had told him that Tony had placed Wanda under house arrest for her own 'safety'...he hadn't been able to turn away. Not when he still owed the remaining Maximoff a debt he could never really pay-it was impossible, considering the fact that her twin had sacrificed himself so he could live.
And look where he was now. Not even an Avenger anymore. In another set of circumstances, he might be laughing at the irony of it all.
Steve's smile faded and he looked back at the road with an inscrutable expression on his face. "I'm sorry. I should never have called you."
Clint smirked. "If you hadn't, I'd never forgive you. Do either of you have a magazine or something? I could really use something to read." Wordlessly, Bucky dug a few old newspapers out of his backpack and handed them back. They were all in German; Clint's German was a little bit rusty, but he managed to get the gist of everything fairly rapidly.
For once, he tried not to think about things-not what was going to happen next or what they had left behind. All that mattered were the words on the page in front of him. Everything else could wait.
~A~
"Kid, wake up."
Wanda jumped awake and practically fell out of the car before she realized where she was and what was going on. The car had finally stopped, parked in the middle of nowhere. The horizon was colored with the inky blues and deep blacks of the oncoming night; illuminated by a neon sign hanging from one rusted nail that read NELSON'S GRILL AND TAVERN: PURVEYOR OF GOOD FOOD AND FINE WINES SINCE 1937. The restaurant itself had obviously seen better days; a rundown wooden building that still managed to retain a little of its old rustic charm. "Where are we?"
"Somewhere in New York. Want to get something to eat?"
Now that she'd finally been able to sleep, all she wanted to do was stay that way for as long as she possibly could. "Not really."
"Sure you do. Prison fare is less than substantial. Come on." Ignoring her weak protests, he waited for her to climb out of the car and handed her a plastic bag that, on closer inspection, was full of clothing. She wanted to ask Steve where he'd had the time to pick it up but she was already too concerned with exactly where they expected her to change. "The woods should be clean." He gestured to the small copse of trees that ringed the restaurant on three sides.
"I'm absolutely not changing in the woods." Scott said, leaning against the car indignantly.
"Then you don't get a burger." Sam replied, already heading off. "I don't think they'll serve you if they see you're an escaped convict." Scott rolled his eyes, but reluctantly took a hesitant few steps in the opposite direction.
Wanda chose yet another direction, walking a little ways into the 'forest' so she could be sure no one could see her from the roadside. It wasn't exactly the most comfortable experience she'd ever had, but it did feel good to be wearing something other than prison scrubs-especially her own clothing. "How'd you get them back, Steve?" she asked curiously as she rejoined the group and they all went inside; various hats and shawls were distributed and they even managed to look somewhat normal as their hostess showed them to a table. In any case, no one recognized them as four ex Avengers and six wanted fugitives.
"I'm getting a hamburger, a milkshake, and an extra side of fries." Scott said without even opening the menu. "And I'm going to eat all of it with no regrets. I haven't really eaten in days."
"All right. Now tell us where we're going." Clint said impatiently, swirling his straw in his water and fixing both Steve and Bucky with a stony look. "I think you've waited long enough."
Steve and Bucky exchanged a glance. "I got in touch with Sharon. She knows an elderly couple that lives up near Niagara Falls who recently left for Florida to retire and enjoy warmer weather. They couldn't take everything with; their house is still on the market and it's readily furnished. I told her we'd be happy to put it to good use for a little while-at least until we can find a more permanent arrangement. It's not like the base or even Avengers Tower-just roughing it in the great outdoors. I hope it's not a problem; I was grasping at straws and trying to figure out the escape plan."
"Sounds fun." Sam said. "Is it like camping?"
"No, it's just...you'll see. We still have a couple more hours to go; we've been doing a lot of zigzagging."
"You know, if we are going camping we'll need to tie up our food at night." Scott added. He probably hadn't even heard a word Steve was saying. "I went camping with my friend Luis one time. We didn't know you were supposed to do that and we almost got chased by a bear-"
"Didn't you just hear me say that we aren't going camping? We'll be in a cabin."
Sam glanced around the restaurant as if to be sure they weren't going to be overheard-though they were the only ones still eating this late at night. "What about our jobs? Are we still Avengers anymore? Are we still going to be saving the world?"
Steve nodded. "If such a time becomes necessary where our efforts are truly necessary to prevent a catastrophic event, we'll go and help out-Accords or not. But until then, the Avengers are off the grid. To the public's eye, it has to look like we've completely disappeared."Just then their waitress returned with their food and they all spent a few minutes getting settled and taking their first bites before he spoke again. "Besides, maybe that's not such a bad thing. We've been so busy being Avengers, we never really learned how to be normal. Maybe we never were."
Truer words have never been spoken, Wanda thought, nodding in agreement as she took a bite of her salad. Sure, it wasn't the best she'd ever had-the dressing was a little bit runny and some of the leaves were of questionable freshness-but she was free and it was the first meal she'd had in days that didn't come from a metal tray and tasted like ground up silt, so it tasted absolutely delicious.
~A~
It was full on dark when they got out of the restaurant and went to complete the last leg of their journey. Bucky offered to drive so Steve could get some sleep; he played classical music softly as they drove, lulling everyone into a kind of hazy security. Wanda fell asleep almost instantly, her head resting on Clint's shoulder; she hadn't meant to doze off like that but she'd been reading his magazine over his shoulder and another wave of exhaustion had caught her all at once. To his credit, Clint didn't push her off.
For the next few hours she drifted in and out of consciousness. Occasionally she would sort of wake up and look out the window to see them passing acres of dark farmlands or sleepy towns shuttered in the dark of night. The quietly conversed words of whoever happened to be awake would reach her through a veil; often she wouldn't be awake enough to hear what they said, hovering just on the cusp of sleep and awareness until she inevitably drifted off again. Sometimes she dreamed, sometimes she didn't; in her mind's eye she saw Pietro as he had looked when he was still alive, practically vibrating with energy as he laughed with her about something. This was no new occurrence; she'd been seeing him in her dreams ever since his untimely death-but unlike usual, tonight she saw Vision too. Not much, just once or twice she would find herself back in the kitchen before everything went downhill-before she realized she was a prisoner in her own home-standing at the kitchen sink and helping him find the paprika while trying not to laugh.
When she finally became fully awake again the moon had reached its summit, bathing the forest and meadows around them in stark white moonlight. Bucky had turned off the main road onto a gravel path that snapped and crackled beneath the tires. They followed this path for a good five or ten minutes, until a small house emerged out of the darkness that Wanda was sure had come right from a children's story. It was made of dark wood, standing like a sentry in the quiet night; in fact, it looked like something she and Pietro would have read about in one of their old storybooks.
The garage was dim and dark as Bucky parked the car and they all clambered out to take a good look around. It was crowded; Wanda could barely see anything in the dim light slanting through a small window above the carport apart from an old Model T that looked like it was about to fall apart, a couple of bags of golf clubs, a couple practice targets, and a few bow and arrow sets. They must have been hunters.
Steve rummaged around under a beat up old Welcome mat and pulled out a small yellow key-revealing an even more idyllic home indoors. It looked exactly like an honest to God cabin from an old movie; framed pictures of deer hung on the walls, pine cones adorned the wallpaper, and nearly everything was solid oak furniture. Wanda found herself loving it immediately.
"The bedrooms are upstairs." Steve said as he found a bottle of milk in the fridge and poured everyone generous glasses. "There should be five-someone's going to need to sleep downstairs."
"I've got it." Clint volunteered. "I want to go hunting tomorrow morning anyway; I think it's best if I don't wake anyone up."
Scott yawned, pushing his empty glass aside blearily. "Well, I'm beat. Can we save the walking tour until tomorrow and go upstairs instead? I think I'm about to fall asleep standing up." The clock on the wall said indifferently that it was 2:30 in the morning.
Steve nodded. "I think that's an excellent idea. I'll go out and buy some doughnuts in the morning, along with anything else we need for the next few days. We'll make a list once everyone's up. But I agree-we all need sleep."
Bedrooms were chosen at random. While Steve claimed the bedroom at the end of the hallway and Scott, Clint, and Sam tried to hash out rights to the remaining three, Wanda made a beeline for a small linen closet-which, on closer inspection, revealed a step ladder that led right up to a kind of dusty but no less cozy attic bedroom. Although it was devoid of photographs or anything that could tell her anything at all about who had lived here recently, the floral duvet was soft and warm and the pillows under her head were extremely soft. She let out a soft sigh of contentment as she lay back; the Raft felt like a dim and distant memory.
As she made herself comfortable, too tired to even begin to contemplate the events of the last four hours, her mind wandered to an unexpected source: Vision. She wondered what he was doing at this hour, whether he was wondering where she was. Despite their differences, they'd been friends; in fact, he had been one of the first friends she'd made after Sokovia. Of course, that didn't matter much now; even though he'd come through for her, they were still enemies. He was one of Tony Stark's Avengers; she had no choice but to cut him out of her life entirely because there was simply no reason he could ever be a part of it.
Still, she wondered what would happen if things were different-and she found herself missing him, a little bit. If she closed her eyes she could see him in one of the pullover sweaters he insisted on wearing every single day no matter what the season (because apparently androids' synthetic bodies were equipped with state of the art heating and cooling systems), watching her scramble eggs with his usual expression of open curiosity and healthy fascination-or hear his voice that day in the compound when he explained to her why she couldn't leave: not simply because Tony was ordering it but because he wanted to keep her safe. I just want the rest of the world to see you as I do.
She shook her head, trying to clear it. She shouldn't be thinking about him; not now, not ever. She was in a different world, had nearly crossed over into a different life. It couldn't possibly last forever, but she could make the most of what time she did have.
We've been so busy being Avengers, we never really learned how to be normal. Maybe we never really were. But maybe things could be different; maybe it wasn't too late.
Maybe she could still learn.
~A~
Vision watched with a practiced detachment as General Ross and a posse of other Raft guards examined the Avengers' empty cells, trying to figure out how they could have escaped or where they could be going. Although he kept his expression neutral, his mind was buzzing; Wanda had gotten out alive. She was safe now, probably miles away with the rest of the team. Perhaps not even sparing him a second though. And yet, that didn't really matter. He didn't really mind. He'd done what he could to protect her-and this time, he'd succeeded.
"Did you know about this?" Tony muttered as they watched someone pick up a straitjacket that had been sawn nearly in half. He didn't seem to care either way; in public he talked about what a relief it was to have the Avengers off of his conscience but he hadn't exactly come running when he'd heard about what had happened.
He shook his head slowly, unwilling to reveal his secret just yet. "No, I did not." It was strange; he'd never thought of keeping secrets before, especially from Tony Stark. But something told him that this was a matter Tony couldn't know about; that he would only make things worse if Vision tried to explain it to him. So, reluctantly, he held his peace.
"Kind of lucky that they all got out like that."
"Well, they are Avengers." he said matter of factly.
Tony looked at the empty cells with eyes that Vision couldn't read, no matter how hard he tried. "Yes, I suppose they are." With that he left to go talk to General Ross, leaving Vision alone. Left to his own devices, Vizh let himself drift back to Wanda and the other members of Captain America's team; wishing them safe travels and a good night wherever they happened to be.
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