Chapter 2

Present Day

10 Months After the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D.

New York City

Sam Wilson sighed and sagged against the wall of the elevator. After a full week of meetings and briefings with Mike Howard, and a drive back from Washington that had taken far too long for his taste, he would have preferred to stretch his legs a little. But, the hundred-plus stories of Avengers Tower made taking the stairs torturous for most normal human beings. He didn't bother mentally listing the several people in the building at that very moment who didn't qualify under that heading.

He might have preferred to jog up though, honestly, since it could have cleared his head a little. His meetings at the Hoover Building and the Pentagon hadn't given him any good news to bring back there. After several weeks with Steve on the metaphorical bench following the fiasco in Ghudaza, they were being asked to go into the field once more. HYDRA agents had grown active in the States again, operating in Miami, testing new bio-weapons on U.S. Navy personnel, and even raiding a top-secret anti-HYDRA task force meeting at the United Nations.

With HYDRA seemingly back in action on American soil, Steve's sick leave was officially over. And it was Sam's duty to inform Steve, apparently, since he had yet to respond to any of Agent Howard's messages.

The elevator doors slid open, and Sam stepped out into the common room. He had, months ago, grown out of any amazement about walking in on members of the Avengers team doing ordinary, day-to-day things, so the sight of Thor Odinson reclined on a couch, watching the news while working his way to the bottom of an entire box of Wild Berry Pop-Tarts didn't faze him. Although it did make him grin.

What was being covered on the CNN International newscast was less pleasant.

"Authorities have identified the victim as Aleksander Lukin, former Chief Executive Officer of the Kiev-based Kronas Oil Corporation. The wealthy recluse, who has not been seen publicly in almost a decade, was found early yesterday morning in his villa on the Black Sea coast, reportedly stabbed to death by an unknown assailant. Details have not yet been released, but rumors are already stirring across the region, ranging from simple robbery to conspiracy theories involving pro-Russian rebels and even Russian President Putin's government in Moscow. Local authorities have declined to comment while the investigation is in progress, however sources close to..."

"Never seen a ghost murdered before," Sam mused as he entered the central area of the common room. He recognized Lukin's name from the file Natasha had given Steve about Bucky, but he'd been under the impression that the former HYDRA gangster had been found dead once already.

"Sam, my friend! Welcome!" Thor turned to look at him, but didn't seem actually surprised by his arrival. The Asgardian was hard to read sometimes when it came to his ongoing practice with human greetings. "Come, sit! I am trying to keep informed about your world's events."

Sam accepted the invitation gladly, sinking onto the plush sofa and heaving a long sigh. Thor eyed him. "Did your war council in the Capitol go well?"

"About as well as I expected it to," Sam replied. "HYDRA's popping up in the States again, and they want me, Steve, and Rhodey to go 'hunting.'"

"This was to be expected, after your government's involvement in the Wakandan conflict, was it not?" Thor asked.

Sam glanced at the larger man. For all Thor's unfamiliarity with human custom and language, he was often quite astute when it came to reading the ebb and flow of politics. Doctor Foster had explained that being the son of the king would necessarily mean that Thor would have had to learn how to navigate his Royal Court, which was just as tricky on Asgard as it would be in a human government. Sam supposed that made sense. "I guess. I just kinda hoped there'd be more time before we had to jump back into that mess. Steve needed some time."

"Mm," Thor grunted, making a show of examining another pack of toaster pastries before tearing into it. "Perhaps a productive activity would do more good for Steven than rest."

Sam eyed Thor, taking the opening to ask about his friend for what it clearly was. The alien god was worried, too. "How's he doin'?"

Thor opened the foil wrapper slowly, lowering his voice. "He has healed physically, but I fear he is still of heavy heart. He retires early, rises late. He has shown little interest in food, and spends most of his time either exercising or in his quarters. Both Natasha and the Lady Pepper have tried reaching out to him, but sadly they have achieved little."

Sam sighed. Not much had changed, then, in his absence. "He's still beating himself up over what happened. Still thinks it's his fault for letting HYDRA know about Barnes."

"Barnes has survived this long while taking revenge on his former slavers. Steven has little to worry about. I might save any pity for the villains who wronged him."

Huffing a laugh, Sam nodded agreement. Thor had a good bead on the situation. If only he could get Steve thinking the same way.

"Will you being staying for the feast?" Thor asked suddenly.

"Feast?"

"Stark announced that it is 'pizza night.' He promised a feast fit for heroes."

Just the mention of food had Sam's stomach growling in anticipation. He glanced at himself, then met Thor's questioning gaze. "I think that's a strong yes."

"Excellent!"

"I think I'll go see if I can drag Steve out of his cave." Sam stood and headed for the stairwell. The living quarters were only two flights up, and he was still stiff from the long drive into town.

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Sam knocked lightly on Steve's door. Suddenly, upon arriving on the floor housing the living quarters, he'd been gripped with an acute case of nervousness, and he didn't know why. He didn't have anything to be nervous about, really. Nothing that had come out of his meetings in Washington was unexpected, and it wasn't as if Steve was going to be surprised that HYDRA wasn't done terrorizing people.

He supposed he was more nervous about what state he was about to find Steve in, once he saw him face to face. The past few weeks had been rough, watching his friend struggle with not only the aftermath of being held captive—despite Rogers' best efforts to deny that anything had happened at all—but also the close call with Bucky and the knowledge that Barnes was now in far more danger than before.

Frowning, Sam knocked again. He hoped Steve wasn't already asleep—it wasn't even dark outside, yet. Another long pause went by before he finally heard Steve's voice.

"Come in."

Sam opened the door, and did a quick scan of the room. Neat, as always. No one would have suspected, based on appearances, that Rogers had been moping around in there for weeks. Steve himself was seated by the window, hunched over a drawing pad. Sam crossed the room. New York's skyline—as seen from Captain America's bedroom window—graced the page in pencil.

Steve spoke before Sam could comment. "If you're here to tell me that the break's over, I already know. I talked to Schroeder this morning."

"Good news travels fast," Sam mused. "I guess you already heard about Lukin, too."

Steve's shoulders stiffened slightly, but he didn't take his eyes off his drawing. "Yup. Saw that, too."

"You think Barnes...?" Sam asked carefully.

Rogers glanced up, taking a long look at the growing shadows of the city's skyline. "Probably. I would."

Sam frowned. "Would you?"

Steve glanced at him, finally, a grim expression on his face. "You read the files, too. Yeah. I probably would."

Taking a seat next to Steve, Sam folded his arms and watched the pencil moving across the paper. "Kinda surprised you're not on a plane to Ukraine."

"No point." Steve shook his head curtly. "Bucky's long gone from there."

"You mad at him?"

Steve looked up at him, frowning. "No. I mean...not in the way you might— No, I'm not mad at him."

Sam pursed his lips, staring at the window as he considered that. "I think I would be. I think I am. Chasing him all over the world..."

Steve opened his mouth, then paused and closed it, looking over at Sam with narrowed eyes. "Do I need to write a check for this session, or do I have an open tab by now?"

"I'm not counseling you," Sam protested. "I'm just sayin'!"

Steve's eyes narrowed further, one eyebrow raising. Sam raised his hands defensively. "I'm not! Christ are you paranoid."

"I spent two years working with people who were secretly members of a supposedly long-dead Nazi cult and were planning on taking over the world," Steve retorted. "It's not paranoia if everyone really is out to get you."

Sam laughed. "That is a stunning level of cynicism coming from Captain America. I am shocked. Shocked, I say."

"Maybe you should note that on your little legal pad," Steve said, turning back to his drawing with a faint smirk.

"Passive-aggressive." Sam shot back.

Steve's smirk grew. "Must be my PTSD showing through, again."

"Sarcastic deflection. And not something you should joke about."

"Been watching a lot of politically incorrect comics lately."

"Subtle changing of subject! Wow, we're firing on all cylinders this evening, Rogers."

Smirk shifting into a grin, Steve turned back to him. "You want to do the full hour, today, or quit while you're ahead?"

"Were you always this pigheaded, or is it another side effect of the serum?"

"Nope, all me. Bucky can tell you stories..."

Steve was drawing again, but the smile hadn't faded, so Sam smiled, too. "You know, that's the first time in a month that you've said his name without it sounding like he's already dead."

Rogers looked up at that. "He's not dead. He's just on his own." Steve shrugged. "I don't like it when he's on his own. Never have."

Sam nodded, taking the breakthrough in stride without gloating. After a moment, he motioned toward the door. "I actually came up here to see if you wanted to eat."

"I'm...not hungry. Thanks though."

Sam wasn't easily deflected. "It's pizza night. Thor's already warming up for the feast."

That elicited a loud growl from the vicinity of Steve's stomach. Sam smirked. "Stomach's always the first one to turn on you."

Rogers glanced at his traitorous midsection, then at Sam. He sighed and placed the pad down on his desk. "Fine. You win. But, I don't really feel like eating."

Sam fell in beside Steve as the taller man headed for the door. "Uh-huh. You act like that, but you'll eat two pizzas all by yourself."

"You say that like it's abnormal..."

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"I'm not signing anything else today. It's pizza night." Tony Stark said in his sternest voice.

"You're the one who decided to privatize world security." Maria Hill countered, expertly holding a slice of pepperoni in one hand and an electronic tablet in the other. Not a single drop of grease landed anywhere but on the plate balanced perfectly on her knee. Steve was impressed.

"Well, I never agreed to privatize the paperwork," Stark retorted.

Hill smiled knowingly. "Fury hated paperwork, too."

"And yet he was shockingly good at it," Tony said, grabbing a slice for himself. "Hey! Brilliant idea! We should get him to do our paperwork."

"Fury's busy being dead, Tony." Hill replied.

Stark gave her a devious smile. "Officially dead, and I hear someone's taken up S.H.I.E.L.D.'s reins since Nick allegedly transferred to the Great Beyond. Any idea who?"

Steve smiled faintly, pretending to worry more about the cheese dangling from his slice of pepperoni than the Tony-Hill poker game developing on the opposite sofa. The fact that some remnant of S.H.I.E.L.D. had survived wasn't news to him—General Talbot had admitted as much in private—but he had no idea who was involved or who was in charge now that the organization's leadership had been largely wiped out. Steve was as curious about what Maria Hill might know as Stark.

"S.H.I.E.L.D. was disbanded, Tony," Maria said with exaggerated patience. Apparently, she wasn't ready to give up her cards. "Something about an evil terrorist cult bent on world domination growing within its ranks for seventy years. I'm not clear on the details."

"Yeah, that's something you want to hear from your Director of Global Security." Tony grumbled. "Come on! Admit it! Fury's still running the show from some bunker in Canada or something. The man has more lives than Capsicle over there."

Maria glanced over, smiling coyly. "You know Steve hates it when you call him that, don't you?"

Tony waved the comment aside dismissively. "It's a term of affection, and don't change the subject!"

Before the interrogation could escalate any further, JARVIS interrupted. "Excuse me, sir. Captain Rogers has an incoming call."

Steve frowned. His phone hadn't rung, and he wasn't expecting any calls. "Who is it, JARVIS?"

"I'm afraid I can't say, sir. The number is unlisted, and my attempts to trace the call have failed. My security protocols are being blocked. Do you wish to take the call?"

Sharing a confused look with his comrades, Steve stood and moved toward the bar. "Yes, transfer it to my phone, please, JARVIS."

"As you wish, sir."

When the screen on his Starkphone flashed to life, Steve hit the Accept button. "Hello?"

"Good evening, Captain."

Steve froze at the sound of Nick Fury's voice. Coming on the heels of the previous dinner table conversation, it was a little creepy. "Uh, hi. I...didn't expect to hear from you."

"I'm sure you didn't," Fury replied, the smirk evident in his tone. "I've been staying off the radar lately, but I ran across some information that I think you'd want to have, and after everything, I figured I owe you a favor or two."

Pushing down a mixture of curiosity and suspicion, Steve angled his body toward the bar, to keep his side of the call away from prying ears. He trusted his teammates, but he didn't want Tony hijacking the discussion if he realized who was on the phone. "I'll bite. What is it?"

"Some of my friends in Europe have been keeping an eye out for persons of interest. Three days ago, a security camera in Izmail caught a quick glimpse of Sergeant Barnes trading for some local currency."

Steve blinked. Bucky had managed to stay off the grid for almost a year. Something had to be wrong for him to slip up now. "That's...surprising."

"I thought so, too." Fury agreed. "I did some digging through some old files, and I narrowed the list down to two or three places where he might be going. I'm uploading the data to your phone, now. If you leave soon, you might just get there first."

"I appreciate that. Sincerely."

"One more thing, Steve. The camera feed also told us why he was probably in such a hurry. There's a HYDRA kill squad a few hours behind him. They might know where he's heading, too."

Steve stiffened. "I...understand. Thank you." He ended the call, and just stared at the phone screen for a few moments.

"Is everything all right, Steven?" Thor asked from behind.

"That didn't look like good news," Clint added apprehensively.

"Um...some friends of mine in Europe have a lead on Bucky." Steve said, turning toward his friends but still frowning down at his phone. "A solid one."

When he looked up, he was met by astonished looks from the rest of the group. Natasha's shock was evident. Of all of them, she knew that for a "ghost" like Bucky to be identified meant trouble. He was either desperate or getting sloppy in haste...neither of which was a good situation.

"Where was he spotted?" Clint asked.

"Any idea where he's headed?" Sam chimed in.

"You have friends besides us?" Tony asked, looking doubtful. Pepper jabbed him in the ribs. "Ow! It's a valid question!"

Steve raised a hand to stem the tide. "My contact sent me some files. I'm going to look them over, make some calls. Nothing's certain yet. Excuse me."

He pulled up the emails on his phone and headed for the elevator, trying to ignore the surprised silence he left in his wake. If, on the way, a tiny flicker of hope flared to life inside him...well, he didn't know what to think yet.

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Steve made his way up the stairs as quietly as possible. It was late, and the only one liable to be awake was Thor, who was still having trouble adjusting to Earth's day/night cycle—though Steve suspected it was more being separated from Jane Foster than the planet's rotation. Foster was still tying up loose ends in London, and wasn't due in New York for some weeks. In any case, he opened the door leading out into the hangar as carefully as he could, so as not to attract attention.

He almost walked into Natasha.

"About time," she said. "I was about to come get you."

Steve looked around the hangar. Clint was already boarding the Quinjet, Thor was helping Tony load one of the Iron Man suits, and Sam was walking past, making adjustments to his flight harness. "What are you...?"

Romanoff gave him a patient look. "You're still a terrible liar. Fury wouldn't have called you with anything other than a good lead."

Steve gaped. "How did you know—?"

She gave him another patient look. He held up his hands. "You know what? I'm not even going to ask."

He followed her toward the waiting jet. Sam smiled slyly as they came up the ramp and leaned in as Steve got close. "You didn't really think we were going to let you leave the country by yourself after what happened last time, did you?"

"I can take care of myself," Steve protested, smiling back as he stowed his shield and duffel bag.

"History tells us otherwise, Cap," Tony jibed as he and Thor boarded. "All right! Let's hit the road. Cap, it's your party. Want to tell us what we're walking into?"

TBC