I stayed out of the courtroom as much as I could. After sitting through the opening statements, I didn't want to hear about all the things the Winter Soldier had done, knowing there was no rebuttal to those sins. I kept up my online surveillance, monitoring reactions with increasing speed as the trial progressed and I fed as much information as possible back through Brock and Natasha, so that they could give the best arguments to the press. Brock was there every day, coming home to me with a grim expression that only grew darker as the days wore on, towards the time for his testimony. His nightmares returned in full force, until I was waking him twice a night from dreams that left him shaking, with sweat on his face and his jaw clenched tightly. He was one of the first witnesses for Bucky's defence, with Steve and Natasha afterwards, and Bucky himself later still, and as the trial progressed he withdrew further and further away from me, retreating to a dark space that I struggled to snap him out of.

I woke early on the day of his testimony, and reached out in the dark to nothing but a cold space. Sitting up at once, I listened to the silence that was broken by familiar coughs. Slipping out of bed, I padded through to the kitchen, then returned to the bathroom, opening the door just enough to let a chink of light from the bedroom spill across the floor to where Brock was hunched over the toilet. I placed the glass of water carefully beside him, then sat down with my back to the bathtub. He took his time, leaning his forehead against the cool ceramic whilst I watched the scars on his back glistened in the light until eventually he turned over, sitting with his bad leg out in front of him and sipping the water with his eyes closed. Even when he opened them, he looked at the floor rather than at me.

"If I asked you not to come today, what would you do?" he asked. I let my own gaze wander as I considered my answer.

"I took you," I said, watching the side of his face in the semi-darkness, "as my lawful wedded husband, for better... or for worse. All you have been, and all you will be. All of you. If you ask me to, I'll climb back into bed and not leave it until you get back. If that's what you need from me."

"But?"

"But I hope you'll let me be there for you," I finished simply. His eyes closed.

"I love you," he whispered, and I shuffled forwards, putting my hand under his chin and pulling his face around until he was finally looking at me.

"As I love you," I said firmly, and he smiled ever so slightly.

"Promise?"

"Always," I vowed, and we held each other on the cold floor.

Brock's testimony lasted for a day and a half. The cross examination was the worst, but I sat with my lips firmly sealed as Brock was insulted fairly thoroughly on all fronts. He kept his cool very well, the mask only slipping when he had to avoid Bucky's eyes as he recounted their five missions together as part of Hydra in excruciating detail, and then every interaction with him since, including an excruciating description of the evening he had stood by and listened to Bucky scream as his brain had been electrocuted because he'd recognised Steve. The front broke completely when we got home, Brock's face becoming dark and brooding as he hunched over on the couch, retreating into himself. I didn't say a word, but just sat, hoping that my presence might help at all. His hand did eventually come out to curl around mine, but the silence prevailed throughout the evening.

I didn't go back in to watch Steve or Natasha testify, but Brock gave me the run down when he came back each night. His part out of the way, he seemed both more relaxed, and tenser, but was happy enough to bicker about Steve, who apparently refused to take his eyes off Bucky, whether on the stand or off of it.

"I mean," Brock griped through a mouthful of curry, "could he be anymore love-struck? It's vaguely sickening."

I grinned. "Well they did take however-many-years to find each other again. Lots of time to make up for."

"Yeah, but they won't just come out and admit it. It's so obvious, but noooo, have to keep up appearances, not that anyone is believing it anymore. I bet Barnes will out him though, it's gotta be pissing him off by now."

"I'm sure he'd like to," I chuckled, "but he probably has enough restraint to hold it in until this is over."

"Probably," Brock agreed. "Still think it's pointless though. No point pretending to hide in the closet when the door are already open."

"Still their choice," I reminded him gently.

"Right. Cos their choices have been stellar so far," he grumbled, and I raised an eyebrow. "Fine," he huffed. "It's just... getting to me."

I smiled at him. "I know. And that's okay."

Bucky's own turn on the stand was the only other one I went in to watch, and it was easily the hardest part of the whole process, beside watching my husband, simply because of his refusal to protest to his own innocence. Even after the gut-wrenching stories of everything he could remember happening to him, which I was sure he cut down, but still left tears on my cheeks, he admitted to almost every crime placed put upon his shoulder. There were a couple he denied, and vehemently, but the trouble was that he told the truth, completely, and that meant it had been his finger on the trigger that had caused a whole lot of deaths. I just prayed that the jury had been listening to the parts where Brock had described the mindless tool he'd been, so different to the man in front of us now, and Steve's apparently rousing descriptions of his character before the war, and the medical professionals who'd testified that what had been done to him had caused serious damage, both mentally and physically.

I was sitting between Brock and Natasha when it all came to an end, and I was surprised to find I was shaking as the judge asked, for the third day, if the jury had come to a decision, and they finally replied with an affirmative. Brock's hand returned the pressure I was exerting, but I was sure it was to a lesser intensity, because it felt like I was about to break his fingers. I took a breath and tried to loosen my grip.

And just like that, it was over. Or maybe it was just beginning.

There were tears in my eyes as I watched Steve practically vault over the barrier to get to Bucky, who looked up at him with numb shock for a second before returning his hug. Everyone around us was on their feet, there were cheers and applause, and the whole of the front row was crowded around to offer their own congratulations. Bucky received them all in a shell-shocked manner, blinking and trying to smile but failing. I smiled twice as much to make up for it as I looked at my husband, nudging him gently with my elbow.

"Hey," I muttered, and he looked round at me, with a satisfied expression. "It's over." He blinked, stared past my head for a second, blinked again, then grinned.

"Yeah, I guess it is," he said, before a disturbance to my right pulled our attention round. Bucky had moved through the crowd, and was standing, staring at Brock, who pulled away from me to stand square on to him, watching warily. For a second, the two stared at each other. Bucky broke the silence first, letting out a quick string of words that I guessed to be Russian. Brock drew in a breath as he stood up a little taller, half-glancing back towards me, considering Bucky from a distance before shrugging slightly and shaking his head. His reply was short and just as intelligible as the question had been to me. There was another moment of silence, then Bucky smiled slightly, and held out a hand. Brock grinned back and clasped it tightly, and my smile grew fonder as I looked at the pair of them. They broke apart as Steve came up and squeezed Bucky's shoulder, glancing an Brock with an expression that was, if not fond, tolerant. Bucky turned to face him, but paused before he could, looking off to the side. I turned to follow his gaze, and my heart sank. Tony was watching us all, his face too tight to be blank. None of us moved, as he got to his feet, holding Bucky's gaze before turning and walking out without looking back. There was a moment of silence, Bucky and Steve sharing a glance filled with sad determination as the rest of Tony's supporters filed out, some with heads bowed, but others shooting angry looks at the two men. Steve barely seems to notice, ushering Bucky back into his crowd of well-wishers without a single glance back as Brock turned to me, and I brought my smile back to my face with only a little effort.

By mutual unspoken agreement, we both turned and headed towards the doors, ready to leave this chapter far behind.

"What did he say to you?" I asked, as we found a place in the crowd and slipped out of the doors.

"He said 'I guess this is goodbye then'," Brock translated, with half a grin.

"And you?" I asked, with raised eyebrows.

"I said 'not unless you want it to be'," Brock said, then hesitated, glancing across at me as we emerged into the sunlight. "Is that okay?"

I smiled. "Yeah, that's okay."

"Rumlow!"

We both turned, Brock tensing beside me, before spotting Steve's head above the crowd, which parted only reluctantly around us as we halted to watch him approach.

"What do you reckon he'd do if we make a break for it?" I muttered in Brock's ear.

"Catch us?" he suggested, and I chuckled, only breaking off when Steve came to a halt a few feet away.

"I... ah... I..." he hesitated, and Brock raised an amused eyebrow. "Umm, I wanted to say that..." He cleared his throat.

"Jeez, Rogers, don't choke on it," Brock said. "Both ends of the deal fulfilled now?"

Rogers sighed, then nodded, and Brock turned away. "And if something does come up?"

Brock shrugged, glancing back over his shoulder. "Then get Romanoff to call me." We made it three steps before Rogers spoke again.

"Rumlow!" he hesitated as we looked back. "Thank you. For... yeah. Thanks."

Brock looked at him for a moment, then gave a wry smile. "Go back to your boyfriend Rogers." They stared at each other until Brock raised an eyebrow, when Steve shook himself, nodded dazedly, and turned, walking quickly away. Brock turned back to me.

"Was that okay?"

I laughed. "More than," I said. "Come on, let's get out of here." So we did.

A/N: Apologies for the hideously long delay, full excuses (NaNo, to exams, to death in family, etc) on AO3 if you're so inclined to go and read them...
Otherwise, this is the end of the main arc, so I can let it have a guilt-free break from this. There are two more little arcs I want to cover, but can wait a little while, since there's a break in the timeline anyway. But enough teasing, basically stay tuned, but this is a nice break-point.