Disclaimer: I do not own anything Captain America or Marvel. Original character is original and thus, mine.

Olive Branch

Switzerland was one of the few European countries that had refrained from signing the Sokovia Accords, secure in its historic neutrality, so Zurich was safer for the ex-Avengers than other places might be. It was an attractive destination for the wealthy and powerful. Steve Rogers considered himself neither, and felt quite out of place in the opulent hotel, even – or maybe especially – in the tuxedo he was wearing. He took the elevator to the top floor and tried not to look too awkward or obvious as he strode into the room. He was surrounded by tables bedecked in luxurious linens and high-end flatware, and people dressed in tuxedos and sumptuous ball gowns, which somehow felt more menacing than heavy artillery and flak jackets. Floor to ceiling windows gave a spectacular view of the mountains around them. Taking a deep breath, he crossed the room to the lavishly appointed table in the corner. Conversation around the table stopped abruptly as he approached.

"Hello, Tony," he said neutrally. Tony swiveled his head towards him, and for an instant the anger and contempt that flashed across his face let Steve know he had not been forgiven. Then Tony's expression relaxed into a familiar smile, and he gestured to the empty chair at the table.

"Thanks for coming by, Steve," he said, as if this were an everyday occurrence. As if he and Steve regularly met in high-end restaurants over thousand dollar plates. As if they hadn't been estranged for over a year. "Have a seat." Steve sat down slowly, taking in the rest of the table. He inclined his head with surprise at the other dining companion that he recognized.

"Dr. Banner," he said in greeting. "Good to see you." Bruce smiled and nodded, though he appeared somewhat anxious, glancing nervously around at the other dinner patrons and the windows showing exactly how high they were above the ground. The dark-haired woman sitting next to him touched his hand lightly, and he visibly relaxed. She looked at Steve intently, her hazel eyes curious, and he suddenly felt naked despite the expensive suit. Tony gestured to the maître d'.

"We'll take a glass of the Chateau Mouton-Rothschild for my friend," he instructed.

"The '45, sir?" Tony nodded. "Very good, sir."

"That's not necessary, Tony," Steve said, but Tony waved the protest away.

"A nice dinner is always better with a good wine. I recommend the veal, it's excellent."

"Tony, you didn't invite me to dinner because you missed me." He was finding he had little patience for Tony's theatrics. Tony had been very mysterious on the phone, insisting that Steve meet him but refusing to say why. His thumb rested lightly on the cufflink that was actually a panic button. Sam had the other one, and was prepared to come crashing through the windows if things went south. Sam had insisted. "I'm still not sure that this isn't some kind of trap." Tony shook his head.

"No trap. I think I might have a solution to… our Winter Soldier problem." Steve bristled.

"Look, I know you have plenty of reason to be angry with him, but he wasn't -" Tony cut him off with a wave of his hand.

"I'm setting that aside for now. Just hear me out." He gestured to the woman sitting to his right. "This is Dr. Nyssa Taylor. She is a therapist with some particular… talents that might be able to remove the brainwashing that Hydra left."

"What sort of talents?" Steve asked. Tony looked at the woman.

"I have a dual degree in psychology and neuropsychology and have been practicing as a therapist for over a decade," she said, "I have extensive experience working with trauma survivors, including some who experience dissociative episodes." Steve looked at her blankly, unsure of the terminology she used.

"Also, she's a telepath," Tony interjected. Dr. Taylor grimaced at the term but didn't say anything to contradict him. "Essentially, she's very qualified to help Barnes." Steve frowned and looked over at Dr. Banner.

"Let me guess. You're here to vouch for her, too?" Bruce nodded.

"She won't let me run tests, so I can't explain how she does what she does. I just know she's very good at it." He didn't elaborate on how he knew, but Steve could guess. The maître d' returned with the wine, and Steve mulled it over silently as they filled his glass. The suspicion did not leave his eyes.

"So what's the catch?" he asked. Tony shook his head, spreading his hands innocently.

"No catch. We're all safer once the Winter Soldier can't be triggered anymore." Steve folded his arms over his chest, unconvinced.

"Tony, you have some very good reasons to want to undermine us," he pointed out, "And not too many to help us. How do I know that she isn't a spy working for you? What benefit do you get from this?" Tony's expression was growing cloudy at Steve's accusations. Dr. Taylor held her hands up placatingly.

"Captain - " Steve held his hand up and shook his head, about to correct her, but she took the cue and corrected herself. "Steve, then. For whatever it's worth, I take client privilege very seriously, and would never use my position to reveal secrets. To anyone." She glanced at Tony, who sighed and nodded his head, looking away. "As for Tony's part, there may be an element of personal satisfaction at the thought of your friend having to confront his memories and having to carry with him the weight and guilt of all that he's done." Steve's eyes narrowed.

"He doesn't exactly need any help to do that," he muttered. "But if there's a chance you can get rid of Hydra's programming…" He paused, considering this. He wasn't surprised by the left-handed favor from Tony. But it didn't explain the woman. "What about you? Why would you want to help us? What's your motivation?" She inclined her head towards him.

"A fair question. Part of it is professional curiosity and interest. I don't often get the chance to work with cases of intentional brainwashing. Part of it is sympathy for his situation. I am fairly certain that I can help make him safe and able to stay in control, even recover most or all of his memories. If you allow me to meet with him, I will be able to determine that for sure." Steve contemplated her for a moment. She did seem sincere, and he wanted to trust her, but the events since the rift began in the Avengers made him much more cautious about his trust.

"For what it's worth, she's almost as irritatingly noble and principled as you are," Tony offered. Their meal arrived, and Tony wasted no time digging in. Steve looked from Tony to Dr. Taylor to Bruce, then down at his plate. He still wasn't completely convinced that this wasn't part of some elaborate scheme to somehow take revenge on him and Bucky, but that seemed a little more subtle than was usually Tony's style. Besides, if this woman truly could help, would he ever forgive himself if he didn't at least try?

Waking up from cryosleep wasn't necessarily unpleasant, if you ignored the deep aching cold that lingered even after his body was back up to normal temperature, or the sense of dread that accompanied the waking, the inevitability of being sent on yet another mission. This time, however, instead of awakening to restraints, torture and dour Russian faces, Bucky opened his eyes to Steve's smile, his body cushioned in a warm, almost too soft bed.

"Good morning," said Steve, his eyes twinkling. Bucky eyed him warily.

"What's the date?" he asked, his voice weak and hoarse.

"June 2nd, 2017. You've been under a little over a year." Bucky acknowledged this with a nod.

"So, since I'm awake, you must have figured out… how to fix me?" he asked, his voice gaining strength.

"I think I may have found a solution." Steve glanced towards the door, and Bucky followed his gaze. A slender woman stood just inside the door, watching the two of them somberly. Her dark hair was pulled back, her dark clothing professional, with a high-necked tunic, grey trousers and even a pair of grey gloves. He looked back at Steve.

"She's a solution?" he asked, unable to keep the confusion out of his voice.

"She's a telepath," Steve explained. "She specializes in cases like yours. She comes… highly recommended." The woman took several steps towards the bed, but stopped shy of the foot of it.

"I would be happy to provide my resume, Mr. Barnes," she said quietly. "Let me also assure you that we will only proceed when you are comfortable, and you can choose to end any or all sessions at any time." Being in control was a novel idea for Bucky. He looked from her to Steve and back again.

"But you think you can fix me?" he croaked, still wrestling with hope and disbelief. She simply nodded.

"It will take time," she warned him. "It isn't going to be easy or simple. But my hope is, when we are finished, the only one who will control your mind is you." For the first time in a long time, he let the hope inside him win. Throwing the covers back, he swung his legs over the side of the bed.

"When can we get started?" he asked eagerly, trying to ignore the dizziness that suddenly made the room spin around him. Steve was already moving to press him back into the bed. The woman smiled and shook her head slightly, her gloved hands resting on the foot of the bed.

"You just woke up. Why don't you get some rest and some warm food?" she suggested. "We can start tomorrow." With a nod, she turned and left the room. Bucky blinked after her.

"We trust her, right?" he said weakly to Steve, lying back in the bed and waiting for everything to stop spinning. Steve gripped his shoulder.

"She hasn't given me reason not to, yet," he said. Bucky nodded and closed his eyes. "You might also want to add a shower to that list of suggestions," Steve added playfully. Bucky opened one eye and glanced at him.

"Like you'd smell better after getting thawed out," he grumbled. Steve chuckled and settled back in his chair.