"You spoke to your sister?" Pietro Maximoff asked Steve as the soldier climbed out from below deck. The older man nodded wearily before taking a seat beside him. The man's twin glanced down before retracing Steve's steps and joining Katie, climbing down out of sight.

They had been flying for nearly two hours and would be flying for at least one more… and Steve wasn't sure if he could make it another hour. He dragged a hand down his face as he glanced down at the floor and then at the front, idly wondering if Clint could kick it up a notch and just teleport them to Sokovia—it wouldn't be the strangest thing that'd happened to him. It was just… he had known about what had happened to his sister.

He'd known she'd tried to hunt Hydra down and failed, that she'd been captured and tortured, and that she'd escaped somehow. He knew she had a connection to Howard, that the man had somehow found her and helped spirit her away to a safe house before he died. He knew she'd had some sort of connection to the Winter Soldier, though, as far as he knew, she wasn't aware that he knew of the connection. He just didn't know about anything beyond that. he had no idea what kind of torment she'd endured, how long she'd been tortured, even what wiping was until they'd rescued her from the Hydra base several years before. He'd known Hydra was capable of horrible things, and even from his first day as 'Captain America' he knew that Hydra had no qualms about using children as shields or bait. So whenever he thought about what his little sister had gone through… it had always been a fuzzy blur. He'd hoped he would never find out, he'd assumed that she'd been frozen like Bucky had. He hadn't wanted to know. He was still ashamed he'd forgotten her in the first place—Katie had it chalked up to something she called TAHITI, said that they had taken and replaced his memories, but that he had fought through it… whatever that meant. Whenever he thought about forgetting things, forgetting people, he always used his sister as an example. He always assumed that being wiped was the only way, and that it had been forced on her like it had been the last time they had performed the procedure on her.

But now to find out that she had willingly let them experiment on her? He didn't know what to think. He was heartbroken, but more than that, he was angry. Not at her, never at her, but at Hydra for breaking his sister so fully that she had let them turn her into a science experiment. She had gone to tell him in no uncertain terms that Bucky was the only reason she'd broken free—he had been introduced to her as the Winter Soldier some decades after she'd lost him, and his face had awoken something within her, jarred a memory that should've been lost forever. It turned out that seeing her had changed something inside Bucky too.

"How is she doing?" Pietro asked, jarring him from his thoughts.

Steve shook his head. "She's…" he stopped. What did he say? She's losing it? She's going insane? She's heartbroken? She's devastated? She's terrified? She's broken? Your sister messed with her head to the point that she doesn't trust herself in the field? All of them seemed like viable options, but it was Pietro who spoke next.

"My sister and I have been on our own since we were children," Pietro murmured, speaking slowly and clearly. "Our parents died when we were ten years old. I've protected her all these years, tried to keep her safe as best I could."

'And yet you turned to Hydra,' Steve thought bitterly.

It wasn't Pietro's gift to read minds, but he knew what the older man was thinking based on his expression and his silence.

"We turned to Hydra as a way to avenge our parents," Pietro continued. "We did not realize what would happen, although I do not use that as an excuse. When we realized that Ultron was going to provide us with a way to take revenge, we accepted. You know the rest," he nodded.

Steve listened, glancing down at the floor again.

"We are very much like you and your sister, I think," he explained slowly. "From what I have read and heard and understand. The two of you were orphaned at a young age, and you protected her as best you could. When the people your sister loved were lost, she turned to Hydra. But, instead of looking to it as a means for power, she saw it as a means to avenge you. And, just like us, she eventually left it."

"I'm not sure I understand where you're going with this," Steve admitted honestly, glancing over at the young man beside him. The man seemed earnest to get his point across, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, light eyes wide.

"I made a mistake," Pietro confessed, glancing away shamefully. "I should never have gone to Hydra, let them experiment on her, on either of us. You had no such choice for her transformation. You can still protect your sister."

"And how do I do that?" Steve sat back, shrugging helplessly. Here he was, receiving help from a boy seventy years younger than he was. He had no idea what to do.

Pietro was quiet for a few minutes. "Let her go," Pietro advised, glancing down at the floor. "Protect her from Hydra, but let her make her own choices."

"Because you're doing such a good job of that yourself," Steve muttered. He felt horrible as soon as he said it, but he couldn't take the words back.

"When this is all over, I will be," Pietro replied softly. "Once Sokovia and Wanda are safe…" he took a deep breath. "I am going to leave. I will come back if Wanda needs me, but otherwise… I am tired of having to look over my shoulder. My sister and I both want to be free. Perhaps yours does as well."

~8~

"I didn't know about your time as a prisoner," Wanda murmured, curling her knees up to her chest. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I rasped, rolling my shoulders and turning to look at her. She looked so young: people so young shouldn't have to fight in wars. We should be left alone.

"I… When I looked inside your head, I saw your husband," Wanda told me. I was too weary to bother correcting her. "He was wiped by Hydra just as you were, yes?"

"Yes."

"I want to help you," Wanda told me, scooting to face me. "You offered my brother and I chance. Let me offer you one: a chance to be with your husband—your James. I can pull his memories back, help him remember what he's forgotten." She paused for a moment, hesitant. "I can let him remember everything."

~8~

"Our job is to clear the streets," Steve reminded us as we moved to land the quinjet. "Get the people out of the city. Once they're out, they should be safe." He looked over at Pietro. "Get the local law enforcement, do whatever you have to to get them involved and helping in the evacuation." He glanced at Wanda. "Convince them to leave," he told her. "Barton, Thor, help get people out. Katie, you're with me. Stark, Vision, search for Ultron. Banner: find Romanoff."

The team scattered, each to his or her own place. I followed my brother closely, knocking on doors and escorting people outside.

A little boy was crying, and his mother was trying to comfort him in hushed Russian. "Hurry, Darling," she murmured, trying to pull her son along and cradle a baby girl in her other arm. "Please—"

"No—I have to find Alina!" the child shrieked, pulling away from his parent and darting out of sight. I started forward, my heart aching for the mother and my veins singing with fear.

"Alexei?" the mother called, panic etched on every line of her face. I reached her, scanning the crowd for the child in the blue jacket. "Alexei!"

"I'll find him," I promised her, placing a comforting hand on the woman's shoulder. The mother jumped when she saw me, holding her baby closer to her chest. I swallowed, speaking past the pain in my throat that made my voice weak and scratchy. "Do you know where he could have gone?"

"His best friend lives three buildings down on the right," she stammered. Her blue eyes were huge and frightened, either by me or by the prospect of losing her child, I did not know.

"Alright," I placed my hand on her elbow and pushed her gently towards the outskirts of the city; we were blocking traffic, and we didn't have enough time to stand around and talk. "I will find him and bring him to you, alright? You take your daughter and get out of here."

The mother looked around, tears in her eyes, and then looked down at her baby. She nodded once, holding my gaze for a split second, before joining the crowd of refugees heading out of the city. I took off after the little boy, pushing through the crowd. I didn't have to do much—the people did a good job of getting out of my way—but it was difficult to spot anyone in the dim of the dawn.

I entered the building the mother had indicated. It was completely silent—Wanda had done her work well. Too well, unfortunately.

"Alexei?" I called scratchily, taking another step into the foyer. "Alina?" I called the name the little boy had been shouting, my voice cracking. No one responded. Not for the first time, I cursed Tony for having the audacity to strangle me. What was wrong with him? I was an assassin, a soldier, a weapon—and I still spoke civilly to people I didn't agree with. I didn't try to choke the life out of them.

Several floors above my head, floorboards creamed loudly.

I took off, sprinting up the stairs, listening for the sound of breathing or movement. A door slammed shut on my right. I spun towards it and, without a moment's hesitation, kicked it open. The door slammed back, bounding off the wall. The room was bare but for a bed and a small table, and the large window that adorned the wall was wide open. A child's terrified shriek cut through the silence, and I could barely make out a pair of huddled forms in the shadows of the corner.

"Alexei? Alina?" I crept forward, crouching down to make myself smaller. "Your mother sent me." I could just barely make out the wide, terrified eyes of the children through the darkness. "It's alright," I whispered, unable to speak louder than that. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Something moved behind me, and I realized a moment too late that the kids had been staring past me, not at me. Stupid, stupid, stupid—

I spun around just as one of Ultron's Iron Legion robots flew at me, knocking me backwards into the wall. I groaned as the windowsill slammed into my back—I'd feel that in the morning. Y'know. Assuming I lived to see tomorrow morning.

I almost went straight through the window, but I managed to get caught on the sill and pull myself forwards again. I kicked out, creating a crater in the robot's chest, and a few moments later, I wrenched the thing's head off its shoulders. I dropped it as the body fell to the ground, powerless.

"Valkyrie, you doing alright?" Clint's voice sounded in my ear.

"Ultron knows we're here," I gasped, rolling my shoulder. "One of his robots attacked me."

"Get out of there," he ordered.

"There's something I have to do first." I turned back to the kids. "Alexei, Alina, come quickly," I gasped, holding out my hands to them. Now that the danger was passed, they ran to me without hesitation, clinging to me tightly. I pulled them into my arms, instructing them to wrap their arms around my neck. "Don't look down," I commanded.

I threw myself out the window, keeping my arms wrapped firmly around the children, and unfurled my wings. I soared up, rising above the buildings, scanning the ground for Alexei's mother. I saw Clint in an alley, saw a silver streak as Pietro sped through the city—

I saw the woman just outside the city, staring blankly at the hoards of people swirling around her.

I landed behind her, staggering a little under the wight of the children. "Mama!" Alexei cried, wriggling out of my arms and running to his mother. "Mama!"

She whirled around, tears in her eyes. "Alexei!" she screamed, scooping him into her arms and holding him tightly. I watched through stinging eyes, resting my hand absently on my stomach. I could never have that.

"Thank you," she said in heavily accented English, turning to me. Alexei was now on the ground holding her hand, and Alina was holding tightly to the boy's other hand. I nodded jerkily, rubbing my burning throat.

"Go," I nodded towards the road. "Quickly."

The next few hours were a blur. The pain in my throat was steadily building to the point that I had to stop a few times in an attempt to breathe. At one point, an elated Bruce announced that he had found Natasha, and a few moments later, the assassin came online, sheepishly explaining that she had triggered the Hulk and was on her way.

"Please, follow me," I called in Russian to an elderly couple struggling to hurry down a cobbled street.

"I can't stall anymore," Stark announced, his voice making me wince. "Friday says Ultron's in the old church. Hope you've gotten enough people out."

"Funny how you listen to your technology more than you do your teammates," I bit out in clipped Russian, glaring in Stark's general direction. Most of my teammates didn't understand me—I thought. However, when the twins chuckled and Thor sighed irritably, I began to have second thoughts. I ticked off my Russian-speaking teammates in my mind: the twins, Natasha, which meant Clint could likely speak it as well; Thor, apparently, could understand me… was Steve the only one who didn't speak it?

"Try and keep the peace, kiddo," I heard Steve mutter.

Nope. Apparently, every. single. one. of my teammates could speak Russian. That was incredibly helpful. I sighed and continued ushering on the couple, wishing that I could turn the mic off but knowing it'd be worse for me if I did.

"You know, Friday can translate other languages," Stark said, clearly annoyed. "What was the point of that, Feathers?"

"Just stating the obvious," I handed the couple over to a young family, who hurried them along and outside the city, and immediately was pushed back by a pair of Ultron's copies, both of whom were dead-set on taking me down.

"I'm going in," Stark announced after a short pause. "If I don't die, Katie, I'd like to talk to you later."

I didn't reply, seeing as how I was fighting for my life, but Steve's voice crackled over the intercom. "Katie—"

"I'm not in the move for a lecture!" I whispered—it was as loud as I could speak. I doubted he even heard me over the fighting.

"Where are you?" he called, urgent.

"The edge of the city," I rasped, punching through one of the robots' heads. "By the bridge."

"Hold on."

Wave after wave of robot continued attacking me—for every one I took down, two more would take its place. A few minutes later, one shot me, managing to hit my forearm and burn a furrow through my flesh. I screamed, doubling over with my arm clutched to my chest, and one of the robots managed to knock me backwards. As I fell, the ground crumbled beneath my feet. A chasm opened up below me, one far too narrow to fly out of—I screamed, twisting in midair, and felt a hand close around my upper arm. It yanked me back, and I fell to the ground, shaking.

Steve fought off the rest of the robots and gave us a brief reprieve.

"What's going on?" I wheezed, my voice the barest hint of a whisper.

Steve's expression hardened when he heard it, and he shook his head. "Ultron's gonna use the city as a meteor," he growled, grinding his teeth. "It'll kill everyone here and everyone down there."

"Cap, you got incoming," Stark announced. I took a deep breath through my nose, blinking back tears. It hurt to breathe, much less fight, and my screaming had severely damaged my throat—I felt like I had torn a hole in my voice box.

"Incoming already came in," my brother replied. He spoke again, this time addressing the entire team as he found my shoulder and squeezed it comfortingly. "Stark, you worry about bringing the city back down safely. The rest of us have one job: tear these things apart. You get hurt, hurt 'em back. You get killed…" he met my gaze and swallowed hard. "Walk it off."

"I gave my life once," I breathed, shaking my head. I glanced out over the country we now hovered above. "I didn't think I'd have to give it again."

Steve pulled me close to his chest and pressed a hard kiss to my temple. I could feel him shaking, and I wrapped my arms around his broad, muscled chest. "I'm promised I'd you," he muttered. I felt his jaw clench, and I grit my teeth as a tear fell from my left eye. "I swore I'd keep you safe. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"You tried," I whispered. "It wasn't your fault."

"It wasn't yours either." He paused and took a deep breath. "I can't protect you anymore. Not from this, not from…" he waved his hand at the destruction all around us. Behind me, a building crumbled to rubble. "You don't need my protection. You're not a kid anymore."

Another wave of robots appeared over the ridge, and a weary, but proud, smile appeared on my brother's face.

"Give 'em hell."