Bucky woke up first, saving him from the dilemma of figuring out whether to be grateful or not for that fact. At least he didn't have to try and explain to Steve why he was spooning him. Unfortunately, getting up without waking Steve turned out to be the bigger challenge. But he managed. He smiled to himself, remembering that when they were kids Steve used to be an awful octopus at night. With all his medical conditions, he got cold very easily and it never mattered how many blankets they used, Bucky always woke up first to find Steve wrapped around him. Between the small couch and their bigger bodies, he wasn't actually surprised that Steve couldn't cuddle him appropriately. What he didn't know was whether he missed that or not. It was so different from the last few days. He didn't feel like a different person, but it was almost like remembering his childhood had eased some of the burden he wasn't aware he'd been carrying. He didn't feel as restless or as angry.
He still couldn't stand to think about the awful things he'd done. He hated to think about Hydra, because the memories were as horrific and awful as they'd ever been but the wounds didn't feel as fresh anymore. As open and bleeding. He walked towards the bathroom, running a hand through his hair. He'd spent so long as Hydra's assassin, he didn't need to keep letting them win. Keep ruining his life. He glanced back towards Steve. He didn't want to have to go back to whatever they'd been these past few days. He could vaguely remember his friendship with Clint, the sarcasm and cynical taunts they threw each other, the way they packed up and disappeared on the streets of New York. Mostly he could remember what his friendship with Steve was like. He could remember being a good person, when he was one. He fought with Steve, prevented Steve from dying through sheer stupidity and they didn't fight with barbed words and cutting knives. He missed that. He missed having friends like them. And as angry as he was, he wasn't angry at Steve or Clint or anyone other than himself.
Because, one thing no one else alive knew, was how he'd been captured by Hydra. That was his secret. If Steve knew, Steve would never forgive himself. And Bucky was allowed to be angry at himself, angry about what he'd done. He didn't need to sit in front of a shrink and hear them parrot it at him. He was pretty sure that'd be one of the shrink's demands anyway. He'd never been to one, so he couldn't say for sure. He didn't need to talk about it with anyone, though he had no doubt Steve would ask questions. Steve wouldn't press and he'd be careful, but Bucky knew Steve. And Steve was going to have about a million questions. He always did. The trick was going to be keeping Steve from asking them.
Bucky started the shower and he waited until the mirror was fogged up before he stepped under the hot spray of water. He couldn't remember much of his escape from Hydra, of the –he was pretty sure it was years? –he'd spent away from them, but he knew this was something he enjoyed. He let himself lean against the shower wall, enjoying the hot water running across his skin. He washed, slow and precise, luxuriating in the time and indulgence he had. When he was done, dried off and dressed in a clean set of Steve's clothes, he headed out to the living room to see Steve was still sprawled across the couch, snoring. Bucky chose to take it as a sign of Steve's trust in him, because otherwise he would be worried. Anyone could kill him in his sleep, although maybe last night said more about that than anything else. After his traumatic late night, it was probably better to let him sleep. Bucky walked outside, barefoot, and sat on the porch, taking a moment to appreciate the stillness of the morning.
He felt weird, like someone had slipped him some good drugs but he knew it was just the memories. The happy stuff, the good stuff. Feeling this good felt like a really, really nice dream. One he didn't want to wake up from. He'd never felt like he was walking on clouds before, but he certainly felt it now. He ran a hand through his damp hair absently, breathing in the cool chill. He could remember spending a hundred mornings like this with Steve next to him. It was usually early spring then and they'd sneak out onto the fire escape to watch the sun rise and the city come to life. On the really good days, he'd fall asleep against the railing and wake up to find that Steve had sketched him. That he could be as important to Steve as the sunrises they could barely see, as the cars and people bustling around like ants from their vantage point, never failed to amaze him. And he wasn't ashamed to make sure Steve knew that was how he felt, if it came out mostly teasing. Their parents used to joke about them getting married, before either of them hit puberty, before their orientations became apparent. That had been hard to deal with, finding out he was an Omega and so was Steve. He wasn't ever quite sure why that was such a challenge to him, but in retrospect, with all of James' memories, it was obvious. He hadn't known it then, because he was a child and had all the innocence of a boy. But, he'd been in love with Steve. And some part of him had dreamed or assumed that in their future, they'd always be together. Because it made sense, Steve was his everything.
Steve wasn't all he had now though. He had a lot of skills and talents and he had friends. Clint and Natasha. Maybe when this was all over, he would be able to join the CIA or the FBI and catch some villains, hunt down Hydra for real, with a real team and back-up. He didn't want to fight, but if he had to fight, that he do it to protect people seemed as good a reason as any. Outside of that, he had no idea what he wanted to do. He was good at fighting; he was good at killing people. He was good at looking after Steve. He wasn't sure what else he was good at doing outside of that. And it wasn't like the Avengers were going to show up and ask him to join. He was friends with half of them sure, but it wasn't like Banner had a great record with Hydra and that wasn't even mentioning Stark. Stark whose parents he had killed. And while those memories hadn't returned to him, he was pretty sure he'd been behind it. If one of the Avengers didn't want him, they'd never take him. And what good would he do there? He could protect Steve, sure, but a whole team of people? They already had one sniper. And while Bucky could do a lot more than just shoot at people from great distances, he wasn't special. Not like Steve.
And that was assuming everything with Hydra worked out, assuming that he could survive public persecution for being an assassin. Last he was aware, assassins usually ended up shot and left for dead in black boxes. Steve would do whatever he could to stop that from happening, and if it did happen, well, it would probably kill him. Then again, Steve had survived eighteen years not knowing whether or not he was alive. But Bucky knew if the government had a hand in it, if Steve had so much as an inkling of suspicion that the government was involved, pretty soon they'd feel the need to do the same to Captain America. Bucky smiled bitterly to himself. That was partly true, he imagined, with the Alpha Council trying to protect his genetics. Maybe they'd step up to the plate and do something to defend Steve. Not to mention the rest of the Avengers. Then again, Steve was more or less their leader. Bucky could remember hearing about the Battle of New York; he remembered what they had to say about Steve. It was entirely possible that if Steve went up against the government, the Avengers would back him up.
He heard the crunch of gravel under tires and he was on his feet, back in the house, before he even realized it. He brushed the kitchen curtain aside, peering out to see a sleek black convertible pull up and park. Bucky reached towards the knives before recognizing the redhead who stepped out. He sighed in relief and watched as the passenger door swung open and Clint got out next. He looked way worse than how'd they left him two days ago, bandages stuck to his face and limping towards their front door. He turned to tell Steve only to find that Steve was already sitting up, phone in hand.
"It's Natasha and Clint," he confirmed, smiling sleepily.
Bucky got the door, letting them both in. Up close, Clint looked even worse. There were dark circles under his eyes. "Is there coffee?" he asked. "Please tell me there's coffee."
"There's coffee," Bucky said, feeling almost guilty. "Someone still has to make it though."
Clint moaned in despair and slouched over to the coffee pot, silently going through their cupboards until he found what he was looking for. Bucky was more impressed with the way he could slouch from one room to another than with his searching skills. Natasha appeared in a much better condition than Clint. Her hair and clothes were pristine and while there was a tight press to her lips and a pinch around her eyes, she looked the best of them all.
"You're not even dressed," she informed Steve disparagingly. "I'd be disgusted if I didn't know you better."
"I slept in," Steve said, his shoulders drawing up a little defensively. If he wasn't in a room full of master assassins, it might have gone unnoticed. As it was, the only one who didn't see it was Clint.
"Whaaaat," Clint drawled exaggeratedly from the stool he was perched on, his eyes glued on the coffee machine. "Cap, sleeping in?" He gasped. "Say it ain't so! The world's probably gonna end and it'll all be because of you."
"Shut it," Steve said fondly, smiling. "At least I'm out of bed before noon."
"That's just sacrilegious," Clint replied flippantly. "A man needs his rest. Especially if he was up saving the world, or you know, the tristate area, whatever, the night before."
"Because you save the world so often," Natasha said loftily, tossing her hair over her shoulder. Somehow, it seemed longer than when he'd last seen her. By which, when he was trying to assassinate Steve not from her time as a modified ballerina.
"I do," Clint said, turning to face her with a pout.
"How are you even here, Clint? Not that I'm not grateful but we were waiting for Natasha before we dealt with saving Agent Coulson."
"Been there, done that," Natasha answered. "Stopped by to pick up Clint before Rumlow or anyone else could beat his head in."
"My head is valuable," Clint pointed out.
"He has a concussion doesn't he?" Steve asked, chuckling.
"Yes," Natasha said. "A few hours ago, he had a dislocated shoulder too and his ribs are probably a little bruised right now."
"Pfft," Clint said, turning back to the coffee pot. "They were amateurs. You don't dislocate a man's shoulder unless you don't know what you're doing. Start with the fingers."
Bucky shook his head. "Watching it won't make it brew any faster." He wasn't going near the torture conversation with a ten foot pole. He'd lived enough of it. And honestly, so had Clint.
"It makes me feel better."
"It's gonna take longer the more you watch it."
"Glad to see you're feeling better," Clint said, deflecting the issue easily.
"Nice to see you not forcing Steve to punch you out," Bucky replied.
"Eh, what's a punch between friends?"
Natasha rolled her eyes. "Phil is safe. He's going to be doing some work from the inside. I took out the man they had on him."
Steve glanced at her. "Took out like arrested or…"
Natasha arched an eyebrow. "He's in the clear now and he's been trying to start work since Tony sent out his broadcast. But with the traitor in the way, it was quite challenging. So I dealt with him. He's going to be our inside contact and spring the trap once we're ready for him."
"I didn't even get to talk to him," Clint muttered petulantly.
Bucky snuck up on him and had the satisfaction of flicking the back of his ear. He was nice, he used his flesh fingers, but it was more than enough to send Clint tumbling off the stool. Mostly because when Clint 'sat' on a stool or a chair, he either sat on it backwards, or he perched like the dainty bird he definitely wasn't. It was nothing they hadn't done to each other hundreds of times over. It was practically fun to do, considering the amount of time they'd both spent down with the Interrogators at Hydra. Clint was still a trained assassin and before then he had years in the circus. He never actually hit the floor, but he gave a grunt of pain when he moved wrong as he settled back on his feet.
"That was my bad ear, you ass!" Clint snapped, punching his shoulder.
"Like you haven't done worse," Bucky drawled, leaning back against the counter, ignoring the pleased smile Steve was wearing.
"Name one time!"
"Oh, I don't know, maybe when you stole my arm?"
"Oh fuck you," Clint huffed, laughing. "It wasn't even attached!"
"You still stole it!"
Bucky couldn't remember who he'd been fighting, or why, but he remembered the way they'd managed to destroy his arm. There was only so much pressure and damage the arm could take and it had hurt like hell, but the Enhanced had managed to separate his metal arm. Not from the socket thankfully, but from the elbow down, he'd lost his arm. His handlers had called him back in and he returned, furious, with his arm in hand. He'd handed it over to the scientists who needed to recreate it from what was left of it. And that night, Clint broke into the labs (no small feat on its own) stole his arm, and set it next to his face so it was the first thing he saw when he woke up. Clint was probably sixteen or seventeen and Bucky was pretty sure it was retaliation for when he'd stolen Clint's swords and bent them out of shape. Duquesne had funny ideas about that, and he'd made Clint spend two days reforging the swords because Duquesne thought Clint needed to learn how to respect his blades more. So it wasn't exactly undeserved.
Bucky might have been just over twenty, still practically a kid along with Clint back then. And they'd both been in an impossible situation. He knew it wasn't exactly a normal bonding experience, but they found what fun they could. Mostly through annoying the hell out of the other. Clint got him out of his dangerous head space, where he lived like a robot to follow orders. It made his life easier, but it didn't make it enjoyable. For the first time that he could remember since his missing time in Russia or before that, he started to feel human. Somehow, being able to recall that it was Natasha all those years ago who brought out his humanity in the form of overprotectiveness didn't seem so surprising when she was in the room next to Clint. But, he had to admit, it was disturbing to think about the fact that three ghosts from his past were buddy-buddy.
"Children," Natasha said, shaking her head like she knew why they were fighting. Or maybe it was more that she had no interest in them doing it. It was hard to tell with her.
The coffee pot beeped and Clint whooped loudly, breaking the moment. "Coffee's ready!" he announced, grabbing a cup.
"Aw, Clinton, showing manners to impress your friends, I'm almost impressed," Natasha teased. "Usually he drinks it from the pot."
"Phil lets you get away with that?" Steve asked, actually sounding offended. "I can't see that."
Clint sighed. "Hey, I'm here, respecting your good hospitality." As if to prove the point, he poured himself a mug of coffee. "You don't get to bring Phil into this."
Natasha smirked. "That means Phil doesn't let him get away with it," she supplied.
Clint flipped his middle finger up, taking a long drink from his black coffee. Somehow, standing in a room full of people he'd known when they were children and teenagers made him feel incredibly old. And he'd missed most of the important events of their lives; either that or he simply didn't remember them. But he didn't think he'd met Agent Coulson before his stay in S.H.I.E.L.D.'s infirmary. And he didn't know how Natasha had gone from a rogue Red Room agent to working for S.H.I.E.L.D. Something told him Clint's story revolved around Agent Coulson. And Steve, Steve he knew virtually nothing about. They hadn't sat down and had a real conversation. That realization alone burned and suddenly Bucky half wanted to chase Clint and Natasha out, because he had questions he needed to ask Steve. Obviously Steve had survived Project Rebirth, obviously its intended effects had worked –but where did Steve go after that? He'd said he hadn't known about Bucky going missing, which wasn't a surprise considering…
He didn't know how he could have that conversation with Steve. Because there was no way to have it without thinking about what led to his capture. And if he thought about it, Steve would know. So, for the moment, he let it go and leaned back against the counter. He listened to the three of them exchange stories and banter and reveled being able to feel like a human again. It was pretty obvious his sudden change in disposition hadn't gone unnoticed, because every so often he would catch Steve smiling at him.
Maybe he didn't have to tell Steve just yet.
By the time Bruce, Wanda and Gwen arrived Bucky and Clint were in the middle of arguing about lunch while Steve took a shower. Clint seemed determined to order pizza, like he always was, and Bucky was trying to convince him that it was better to cook to impress. Clint was apparently of the opinion that pizza alone was an impressive feat. Steve couldn't help the easy smile that seemed glued to his face today. As far as he knew, since James had… left, this was the most relaxed he'd seen Bucky. He wasn't the carefree, exuberant boy of Steve's memories and he wasn't the suave and charming James either. And Steve couldn't express how grateful he was that, at least for today; Bucky wasn't brooding angrily, waiting to pick a fight. Bucky seemed lighter, less trapped inside his head. And it was a good look on him.
"James seems to be doing well," Natasha commented, standing beside him. She paused a fraction of a second, likely reading the wince in his body language. "Sorry. To me he was James, I forgot he's… Bucky."
"He's doing a lot better today," Steve agreed.
"But you aren't?" It was poised like a question, but it was anything but.
"I had a rough night last night," Steve admitted, watching the others gathered around in the kitchen. "I don't remember much of it."
He wished he did because he was terrified he'd done something stupid. He'd checked his room and he knew his knife was missing. But Bucky hadn't said anything. And there was the fact that he'd woken up on the couch, not in his bedroom. He remembered being afraid and desperate in equal measures, but not much beyond that. It was all a blur. He probably hadn't had a nightmare then, it had to have been a flashback. And he hadn't had those since he'd come back from his tour. Which meant there were only a handful of incidents he could have relieved, ones that were traumatic enough he'd blocked out the whole night. The most likely culprit would be the flashback where he was stuck watching Monty die. And those were never pleasant and ended up with someone hurt. But Bucky hadn't been avoiding him and he showed no sign of injury, though it was possible with his advanced healing that there weren't any signs to show. He hoped that was all it was. He didn't want to be wrong.
Clint and Bucky's argument ground to a stop when Bruce walked into the kitchen and started taking out ingredients. Bucky shot Clint a triumphant smirk over Bruce's head and Clint huffed and rolled his eyes. Wanda and Gwen were still in the living room, sitting on the couch, holding the other's hand. Steve wasn't sure if that was normal for them or not, but the two of them struck him as being loners. They liked being alone. Steve could only imagine that seeing the Witch in a plain black dress, with her hair neatly pulled back was as weird to him as it was for her to see him with a beard and wearing sweat pants. He didn't think they'd ever seen each other outside of their uniforms in the middle of battle. And until today, he'd never seen Gwen's face.
He turned to Natasha slowly. "Do you think it'll work?"
Natasha leaned ahead, peering into the living room, her gaze skimming across the women. "Yes," she answered simply. "Her mentor was the woman who pulled the codes from my head."
Steve nodded uneasily. "That's good."
"She will be far kinder than her predecessor," Natasha added. "She won't be altering his state, just removing the collars Hydra left in his brain."
Wanda had shook Bucky's hand briefly on meeting him and they'd agreed that they would get to the codes once they had a plan lined up on what they were going to do about Hydra and S.H.I.E.L.D. and the fact that the entire government was trying to capture them. According to Gwen, the three of them had left to Ontario for some science convention and by the time they saw Tony's announcement, they didn't have a way to get in contact with him. And thankfully for the both of them, Hydra and the Red Room were unaware of their current freedoms. The three of them, naturally, snuck out of Canada without notice and spent the next three days straight driving. They slept in shifts and kept to drive-thru food in order to make it. They were just leaving Vermont and heading into New York when Natasha called and told them to head to New Jersey instead.
Steve wasn't surprised when Clint wandered out of the kitchen, grumbling under his breath about cranky green rage monsters and shortly after Bucky followed, looking surprised. According to Tony, Bruce could be quite particular in the kitchen. But when lunch was ready, it was definitely worth it. And Steve still wasn't sure how he had accumulated enough groceries for any of this, unless Bucky had somehow managed to go shopping without his noticing, but Bruce served up a plate of fajitas and a platter of veggies. There wasn't enough room for them all in the kitchen, so Steve packed the stools into the living room. The couch was quickly taken over as female territory as Natasha joined Gwen and Wanda. Bruce sat down on a stool across from the women, next to Clint who was seated in the armchair. Bucky sat on Clint's other side on a stool, leaving Steve to sit at the border of the kitchen and living room. He didn't mind, from this angle he could see everyone.
"I tried to get in touch with Tony," Bruce admitted. "But I couldn't even get hold of Jarvis or Pepper."
"Which is weird," Gwen supplied. "They're like always there. No matter what."
"Last time Stark went off the deep end, both of them were still reachable." Wanda paused. "Granted, that situation was different."
Steve surveyed his living room, stuffed full of superheroes. Natasha, Clint and Bruce he was most familiar with their skill sets. He had an idea of what Bucky was capable of, but he was pretty sure he didn't know everything. Wanda, he was more familiar with after the events that unfolded last year. Her telekinetic powers were so great they couldn't be measured –Tony had in fact stated that he didn't ever want to find out, because if his guess was right, she had the potential power to rewrite history. And that had led into a long discusses about space and time quantum physics that Steve had been regretfully unable to escape. Gwen he knew considerably less about. She had been present last year too, but she mostly kept anyone from interfering with Wanda and launching herself off the Hulk like an acrobat.
"Steve and Bucky are too noticeable right now," Natasha said, gesturing to them. "Although the beards are a good disguise, the media's too hot right now."
"We could use a good distraction," Steve agreed. "But I don't know what we can do with it."
"Oh there are a lot of things," Gwen said brightly. "You could break into the White House with the right kind of distraction."
"We aren't trying to kill the president," Bucky laughed. "But thanks for the offer."
"You know," Natasha said slowly, "that's the kind of threat that would buy you time."
Steve was about to explain why that was a bad idea, when there was a knock at his door. Instantly, everyone was on alert. Natasha slowly peered out the curtain and gave a huffed laugh that sounded more like a sigh of relief. Steve and everyone else crowded over and when Steve saw who it was, his reaction was similar. Because standing at his front door, wearing a pair of sunglasses and a snug leather jacket was undoubtedly Nick Fury. Steve wanted to ask how Fury had even found his house, since it was off S.H.I.E.L.D.'s records but he realized the more pressing question was about the fact that Fury was even still alive. Steve went to answer the door but Clint beat both him and Natasha to it. He smiled at them both, a half-smile, and opened the door.
"How do I know I can trust you?" Clint demanded his voice barely audible to Steve in his small house.
"You trusted me before," Fury replied smoothly, but there seemed to be a weight in the conversation between them.
Clint stepped aside and Fury walked into view. Despite his obvious injury –his arm in the sling, for one –he actually looked to be in good shape for a dead man. Steve turned to Bucky belatedly only to find that Bucky had tilted his head to the side, staring at Fury thoughtfully.
"How did you survive?" Natasha demanded. "I was there. I saw them take your body."
Fury tipped his head in Bruce's direction. "The good doctor made one hell of a tranquilizer to stop his green problem. Didn't work so great on him. But it helped keep my heart pumping so slow, it looked like I was dead to the doctors."
"Everyone just loooves faking their deaths," Clint muttered, returning to his seat. Steve figured Clint had more reason than most to hate faked death scenarios.
Fury rolled his eyes and gingerly brought the last stool over, sitting on it next to Steve. "And I knew about this place because I am a smart man. And Coulson never stops digging. We kept it off the records, Rogers, but we knew you'd come out here once a weekend for a few years."
"Surprisingly, that doesn't make me feel better," Steve sighed.
"Then you can at least be grateful I'm here." Fury looked around the room and Steve realized this had to be normal for him, looking at a room full of crowded superheroes. He didn't even give Bucky a second glance. "What's your plan?"
"One team to create a distraction, enough of a way for Bucky and I to get in, and another team to back us up and someone to handle the media." Steve paused reluctantly. "We really need to get the media on our side."
"I'm not the one for that job," Bruce said, shaking his head.
"Think bigger," Fury said. "We have Phil and Stark. Both of them are waiting for the right moment to do something."
"Tony isn't going to do anything if Pepper's in danger," Bruce replied evenly.
Steve was always impressed by how effective Pepper and Bruce were together, even though he knew there was a mess of broken hearts between the three of them. Even though Tony and Bruce were together, Tony and Pepper had been something even before Steve was brought into the picture –thankfully, briefly. The few times he'd been around all three of them, it had been surprising to watch the way they corralled and bossed Tony around. And Tony let them, with a certain about of griping, of course.
"Stark's already got a rescue plan in motion," Fury said. "Phil can handle the media, but it'll take him time. He's contacting those that he knows aren't Hydra, those that he trusts. Sitwell, Hand and Hill are helping him on that. He's got May for back-up. He just needs a sign to start fighting back."
"We can give him one," Clint said, grinning. "I know just the place."
"Natasha could bring me in, make a big show of it," Steve said slowly, an idea forming in his head. "That way, I'm in the building. It's not like they can kill me in front of cameras or witnesses. They'll broadcast it everywhere. And Bruce, if you're willing? You could put on a show. Let the Other Guy out. Once I'm in, I can get the word out. The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents have to have started noticing something weird is going on. They might not all listen to me, but we should try and save them. Before Pierce does something worse. "
Bruce didn't look happy about it. "He's protective of you Steve. I can't guarantee he won't demolish the entire building, let alone the city."
"I can help with that," Wanda said. "If you'll let me. I can put some minimizers on, redirect him, and keep the rage to a minimum. If it gets really bad, I can pull you out until we get to a containment zone."
"Last time –" Bruce started to say, weariness creeping into his tone.
"This won't be like last time," Wanda said firmly. "Gwen will be there. If it gets rough, she can tag-team me out or in. Distract him long enough to prevent… that."
"I can do that," Gwen said. "The Other Guy likes me, after all." She smiled, strained and awkward.
Bruce looked between the two of them and nodded reluctantly. "I don't like it. But it'll work."
"With him causing mayhem, they'll put the Triskelion on evacuation alert. And during an evacuation alert, even the prisoners get moved. Someone will have to take me out of the cells –and as far as I know, no one's built anything strong enough to keep me down long. If we time it right, Bruce's appearance can draw more attention to my situation and keep Hydra from killing me quietly. And I can use this time to call out Pierce, get the good guys out."
"And what am I supposed to do?" Bucky asked, low and quiet. "Because if you think I'm sitting this out Rogers, you're mistaken."
Steve paused. If Bucky got involved, the risk was a lot higher that he might never see him again. If Bucky came with him, they might just shoot him on sight.
"How do you plan to stop Pierce?" Fury asked. "He'd lock himself tight in his room, take the emergency elevator down and escape out the back. Only Alpha members can open those doors once they're closed."
"You and Nat," Steve said. "You could take care of that." That was real spy work, not soldier work.
"You know about Pierce?" Bucky asked, and from the way his voice quavered, he sounded a little scared.
Fury scowled darkly. "I found the footage he deleted of you. It was locked to Alpha level clearance. Showed you taking the elevator with Rumlow, up to his office. Wasn't hard to work out how you escaped without being seen after that. And then you showed up and beat the hell out of my car. So if you mean know that he's Hydra scum? Yeah, figured that one out pretty recently."
"How do we make sure to get rid of the heads?" Natasha asked, cutting across Bucky and Fury's silent conversation. "We need to access their logs, figure out where they've been keeping the Omegas… we need to stop them."
"No mistakes this time," Bucky added. "I can help with going through their data. I know their codes, how they…"
"Release it," Steve said suddenly. "Release all the information. It's the only way."
"You don't mean to –Cap," Fury said, and it was almost pleading in the strength of his disbelief. "We're the only organization looking after Omegas."
"So build something new," Steve said firmly. "I know it's been done before, back when S.H.I.E.L.D. was the Strategic Scientific Reserve. We build again. But we can't do that until we find Hydra, get rid of them once and for all. It'll be the fastest way to get the information." He hesitated. "We'd need someone relaying all the base locations, to the CIA, FBI, MI-6, anyone who will listen. Hell, the United Nations." He glanced at Bucky.
"He can do that from my brother's place," Clint said. "I've set them up with a panic room and a hell of a communications site." He shrugged, only barely wincing. "I've got nephews and a niece."
Bucky bristled unhappily. "What if they have Hydra agents too?"
"You and Clint can sort that out. Find those discrepancies if there are any, deal with them as they come up. They won't have agents everywhere."
"If that's what you want," Bucky said, a little stiffly.
"I'm sorry," Steve said genuinely. "You're too recognizable otherwise. If I brought you in with me, I don't think they would hesitate to murder you. The media wouldn't care. They don't know you. And Natasha is the best actress, spy, I've ever seen."
Bucky breathed out slowly. "I know," he admitted. "I don't like it."
"For all we know, they might send someone after me," Clint added. "I don't want anything to happen to my –family." He crossed his arms. "And they aren't going to be happy to know I skipped out on them again."
"So you want me to keep you safe, is that it?" Bucky drawled, arching an eyebrow. "You need me to babysit you Barton?"
"Fuck off," Clint threw at him, but there was no heat to his words.
There was an ease and familiarity between the two of them that made something in Steve ache. He missed being able to be friendly with Bucky. And of course it was the second Clint showed up, Bucky was suddenly much more at ease. Maybe something had gone wrong last night? Steve wouldn't be able to ask until, well, he wasn't entirely sure when. Hopefully soon.
"When are we doing this?" Natasha asked.
"I want to catch them off guard," Fury added.
Steve turned to Wanda. "How long will it take you to remove those codes? And how long does Bucky need to recover?"
Wanda pursed her lips, considering it. "Maybe a few hours, eight at the most, to get them all, depends on how many there are. And his recovery? Twelve hours and he should be good to go, but if it's rough, add a few to that timeline." Wanda glanced at Bucky. "Also, depending on what I find, I might need Gwen's help with his arm."
"My arm?" Bucky asked incredulously. "What about it?"
Gwen's expression darkened for a moment, a faraway look to her eyes, a frown on her face and Steve was suddenly reminded that despite her youthful appearance, she was an assassin. "We learned the hard way," she said icily. "We learned that Hydra likes to leave booby traps behind. The codes won't have been enough insurance. They may have rigged your arm to explode or shut down or inject poisons."
Wanda reached over, setting her hand over Gwen's. "It's okay," she murmured softly, pressing a light kiss to the other woman's temple.
"We'll get them," Gwen said firmly, practically glaring Bucky down. "I might not be Tony Stark, but this… this, I know a little about. Enough to neutralize the threats. I won't be able to make you a new arm or anything shinier or faster. I can't make those repairs, but I can disable whatever they might've done to you."
Whatever had happened to her, Steve didn't want to ask. Apparently, Bucky must have agreed too because he just nodded silently.
"In five days, we attack," Steve said. "Hydra doesn't know where we are. They don't know Bucky has remembered anything. It'll give us enough time to prepare some gear, for Bucky to recover and leave him and Clint plenty of time to get to Indiana." He'd have at least three days with Bucky before he left for Indiana. Hopefully that would be enough time for Bucky to recover from Wanda and whatever Gwen might need to do.
Fury didn't stay much longer after that, instead promising he'd see them when this mess was over. He left, apparently to go meet and coordinate with Hill. Steve was relieved to hear that she wasn't involved in this mess either. Natasha and Clint both left to see about motel rooms that would deal with them all. Bruce pulled out a Starkpad and apparently hacked into one of Steve's neighbours' Wi-Fi to pour over maps of Washington, D.C.
In five days, Steve would be back in Washington, D.C. letting Natasha bring him into the Triskelion. She would claim that she had found him; brought him in to save him from himself and the assassin he thought he was in love with. It would be done publically –apparently there paparazzi loitering all through D.C. to try and catch sight of him or the infamous Winter Soldier. Bruce would be nearby and happen on the scene –he would immediately Hulk out, refusing to see his friend taken to prison or worse. It would become a public spectacle. Natasha would get Steve inside and S.H.I.E.L.D/Hydra would have no choice but to ask Stark for help. It would bring Stark into the plan and as dangerous as it was, it would leave him to win the media over it. Which he hopefully could do without antagonizing them. While Steve was brought in, the Hulk would have to attempt to follow and Wanda was certain she could do this with only minimal damage. It would trigger their emergency systems. By then, Natasha would be on her way to Pierce because the orders as they stood were to report to him directly if anyone saw or brought Steve in.
By then, Fury would be landing and heading into the building. Natasha was a powerful asset to S.H.I.E.L.D. and a better bargaining chip for Hydra. They could use her to negotiate with the Red Room and Hydra always negotiated. Pierce would be certain to let her in –and if he didn't, Natasha and Fury had discussed the ways she could break in. Mainly by using some new S.H.I.E.L.D. tech that someone named Fitz-Simmons had made. It would take Pierce approximately ten minutes to escape the building, as he had to take the stairs available only to him. No one would be flying unless it was to serve as a distraction for the Hulk –the Hulk hated helicopters and jets especially. Steve couldn't blame him. While they were converging on Pierce, someone would have to come and get Steve to transfer him. He would fight his way out, make his way to the nearest radio set and alert everyone to what was going on. He would change the channel on his comm system to connect him with Clint –Bucky would be scouring the data for information on Hydra agents hidden within S.H.I.E.L.D. and passing the news to Clint who would spread it to Steve. Phil would have one of his team doing the same, passing names of loyalists that Phil had ascertained were good and Steve would start weeding Hydra out.
Phil would be calling a press conference, informing people that due to the death of their Director, he was the one in charge and as such he had news for them. He would have to explain the situation and finagle the press into believing him and keep them from investigating the Triskelion as things progressed. The further away civilians were the better for everyone involved. It would also allow Phil to adjust to his new position, as Fury called it. Apparently, Fury had plans to divide S.H.I.E.L.D. in half. He would let Coulson operate in front of the cameras and keep the majority of their forces in his reach, while Fury went undercover to help deal with Hydra. Hill would be left to communicate between Phil and Fury's forces and be there to offer the Avengers help when they needed it.
Bucky moved to the couch uneasily, looking between Wanda and Gwen uncertainly.
"Let's start with my arm?" he asked, hesitantly.
"I can do that!" Gwen said reassuringly, pulling a toolkit out of her purse. "I promise, I carry this around with me all the time, it's not special for you or anything."
If anything, Bucky appeared less reassured. Steve set about collecting what few remaining dishes there were and washed everything in the kitchen. Not to avoid Bucky, or the electronic whirring that came from his direction. He just didn't know what to do with himself. And after that much company, there was more than enough to take care of. Bruce had already scrubbed the frying pan down and left it to soak, so it was less work than he had expected. By the time he had finished the dishes and put them back into the cupboards, Gwen had finished whatever she'd needed to do for Bucky. Steve didn't want to ask. Instead, he sat down beside Bruce, keeping an eye on Bucky as Wanda moved closer. She set her glowing red hands over his temples and closed her eyes.
And then, Bucky started screaming.
It was an automatic reaction; Steve lunged towards them but found Bruce blocking his path.
"You can't interrupt them," Bruce explained. "If you do, there's no telling what codes will be left and what will be removed."
"He's in pain!"
"He'll stop in a minute. I would trust Wanda with my life –I've trusted her with more than that. Trust me; it sounds worse than it is."
Steve stepped back uneasily. "You've done this before?"
"I've seen her do it before," Bruce corrected, stuffing his hands into the pouch of his hoodie. "With Gwen and someone else. I didn't need anything take out of my brain, and letting her control the Other Guy is less intricate than this."
"It doesn't hurt," Gwen commented quietly. "It's just –there's so much processing." She gestured vaguely. "Like, I had to relive every command they'd ever given me and the circumstances surrounding it. I know that they used to wipe his memories. If he hasn't remembered any by now, or not all of them, when this is done he will." She crossed her arms, hunching in on herself meekly. "He's only in pain because he's reliving what he's done and that includes full sensory recollection."
He was feeling everything then, along with having to re-enact some of the horrific things he'd done. Steve watched on helplessly. Bruce and Gwen did their best to distract him. And after a few hours, Bucky's screaming abruptly cut off but looking towards him, Steve realized he hadn't actually quit. His mouth was open but he'd probably lost his voice. And it wasn't as though the screaming had been ceaseless –there would be breaks for a few minutes, once for an hour –and then it would resume.
It was dark outside and Steve's dinner sat untouched in front of him before Wanda gave a gasp and fell forward. Steve, Gwen and Bruce all scrambled into the living room. Wanda got back to her feet, holding a hand to her head before Gwen had her arms around her and was leading her to the kitchen for food. Bucky's return seemed slower. His posture relaxed and his head tipped forward to rest against his chest. He closed his mouth, working his jaw before he even started to sit up. He grimaced at Steve, and it was like he was smiling through the pain. There were dark circles under his eyes and sweat on his brow. Bruce handed Bucky a glass of water, balancing his dinner plate on the arm of the chair.
"The water'll help your throat; the food'll help your energy. Sleep for about twelve hours and you'll be good," Bruce said.
Steve found himself sitting as near to Bucky as he could without being obvious about it. He watched as Bucky drained his glass of water, picked at his food and remained otherwise lifeless.