The emergency lighting kept trying to turn on- the fluorescent tubes would flare and dim and die. Over and over again. Stark's handy work? Possibly. Probably, Amy guessed, although she didn't know for sure.

She sort of wished the lights would either come on or just stay off. The flashing was disorientating. It was beginning to make her queasy, make her doubt her footing, which was a problem that she could ill afford as she followed Bucky to the stairwell.

She kept close to the wall. And even closer to him. She was armed with nothing more than her cell phone and an assortment of tools that she forever carried in her purse.

Bucky had the gun.

Bucky was in charge.

Oh. He didn't want to lead her into danger. Everything she knew about him made that abundantly clear. But he didn't want to leave her behind either. He wouldn't leave her behind. He couldn't…

And anyway, Amy never would have allowed it.

"It's going to be HYDRA, isn't it?" she asked.

"Is that you making assumptions again?"

Her lips quirked, almost managed a smile- the mere sound of Bucky's voice was an instant reassurance.

And an instant reminder of how badly she wanted to still be tangled up in his arms- of how she would rather be listening to the hot purr of his words as he whispered them into her ear.

Later.

There would be a later.

"I don't know if I'd call it an assumption. I'd say it was more of an educated guess myself," she replied, knowing she had to concentrate. She really couldn't afford to be any more of a liability than she already had been tonight. "We know they've infiltrated Stark Tower before."

"To get to you?" he asked, sparing her a glance over his shoulder. His expression was grim.

The overhead lights were pulsing now. It was hurting Amy's eyes.

"There are other things here to interest them besides me."

Stark's workshop. That's what Hill had said.

That couldn't be a coincidence.

But Amy hadn't had a chance to ask for further details. Hill's phone had cut off mid-call, and no attempt to redial her number had met with success. Amy had pushed down her fears for the other woman, pushed them deep down, while she forced herself to keep her focus firmly fixed on Bucky.

He was her only hope of getting through the night.

She trusted him in a way that she didn't currently trust herself.

Her judgement was shot. Her body tired. Mind weakened and emotions in turmoil.

They rounded a corner and reached the stairs. Bucky was still in front, pace fast but steady, checking the coast was clear. Amy kept watch on the corridor behind, although she was sure Bucky had that covered too. Her mouth was dry, her throat tight. She couldn't see anything- couldn't hear anything untoward, but there was something very wrong beyond the absolutely obvious.

"Can you smell burning?" she asked.

Bucky turned around to face her again.

"No."

"Really?" Amy reached for her necklace. Stopped herself. Kept her hands free. "Because it smells really strong to-"

She lost the rest of that sentence when Bucky seized her by the arm and dragged her behind his back.

She stumbled into him, into the solid strength of his body. She had little option other than to stay put, but she desperately wished for a weapon of her own when he shifted his weight and raised her gun. There was a sound. Strangely beautiful. Of metal vibrating through air. And then a clang. And a grunt, as Amy felt Bucky absorb shockwaves of impact with his body.

A string of Russian expletives coloured the air.

Amy peered around Bucky just in time to glimpse the iconic shield that now rested in his left hand. It stayed there for only a second before he sent it flying back down the corridor, sending it ricocheting off a wall and around a corner.

"Was that from- Steve?" she asked.

Bucky didn't answer.

Didn't need to answer.

Because Amy could see the man himself now, emerging from the corner that his shield had just disappeared around. He was hooking it onto his back, and she was just a tiny touch embarrassed about seeing him again after their earlier conversation.

"Pretty nice throw," he called to them.

"It's not a toy," Bucky snapped.

Steve smiled and shrugged, sheepishly unapologetic.

"I was just trying to get your attention."

"Try something else next time."

"I knew you'd catch it."

Amy stepped forwards and grabbed Bucky's arm before he could think too hard about swinging it.

"Did Hill call you as well?" she asked quickly.

"No."

"She-"

"What are you doing here then?" Bucky asked, interrupting Amy before she could launch into her story.

She stared up at him, forehead pinched in a frown. He'd slipped his arm free from her grasp, but let it rest in front of her waist.

"I came to make sure Amy wasn't still in engineering on her own."

"She's not…"

She was looking between the two men however- or trying to at any rate, if the lighting would just cooperate a little. She was missing something, wasn't she? But it was hard to think when she could hardly breathe.

How could they not smell the acrid quality of the air?

"Can we keep moving?" she asked, thinking again about Hill and her call for help.

"Good idea," said Bucky, but he surprised her when he closed his hand firmly around her wrist and held her still. "Steve can go first. He likes to lead."

It was said lightly. Amiably. Steve even laughed. But Amy felt like there was a whole conversation taking place that she couldn't hear. She took a step forwards to follow the captain, but again- Bucky held her back. She heard the mechanisms of his arm shifting as his grip tightened.

She stared up at him and raised her shoulders in confusion.

"Stay close, and stay behind me," he said, his voice low and deadly serious. "Do you understand?"

"No. Not really. But I'll do it anyway," she replied, falling into line as they entered the stairwell behind Steve. Here the lights were a little better, although oddly watery. The light wavered and refracted like sunbeams hitting the surface of a lake.

Amy started to cough.

"Please tell me you can smell it now?"

Bucky angled his head back towards her for a moment, but instead of answering he called down to Steve.

"What can you smell?"

The blond man glanced over his shoulder, a puzzled look twisting his brow.

"Nothing out of the ordinary."

Amy frowned as she followed the two men. She could physically taste the smoke. Could feel the wispy tendrils coating the back of her throat. No. She couldn't see it, but that didn't mean it wasn't real. It could be some strange new gaseous poison? It might be that… something she'd never encountered before.

Except for the fact that she recognised the choking scent that hung in the air. She was keeping the door to that particular memory barred, however. She was trying to at any rate, but it wouldn't lay quiet- kept rattling its hinges.

"Okay. Seriously. Why can't either of you smell anything?" she demanded, unable to bear it any longer.

"I didn't say I couldn't smell anything," said Bucky, slowing his pace, letting Steve out stride them by a few extra steps. "I said I couldn't smell burning."

"What the hell does that mean?" Amy hissed under her breath. "What can you smell?" she asked, unsure why she felt the need to whisper.

"Pine. And snow."

Amy licked her dry lips.

"Why…?"

"You know why."

No.

She didn't.

And she really didn't know why the scent of an Iraqi afternoon filled her nostrils. Or why the sounds of it were starting to ring in her ears. The sounds. Oh God. The sounds were so familiar. So harsh and brutal and inside her head.

"Impossible."

"Pardon?" she croaked.

"You said it should have been impossible for this building to lose power," said Bucky.

"Yes?"

"So what did Thor say? About the woman."

"What woman?" Steve asked.

No. He demanded. Surprising Amy. She hadn't thought he was listening. And there was an inflection in his voice that she never would have expected to hear coming from his lips. She didn't like how it made her feel.

"What woman, Bucky?" Steve pressed.

"The woman on the train tracks," he replied.

Bucky stopped walking down the stairs, which meant Amy had to stop walking too. He was a human barricade blocking her path. She could barely see what was passing between him and Steve. She was struggling to even hear it over the roaring in her ears.

"Thor said she was impossible."

Now that Amy heard.

Along with Steve's offhand reply.

"You're not making any sense, Buck."

Oh- but he was making sense. Only Amy was too afraid to follow his theory to its logical conclusion. She could just about see around him to tell that Steve had started walking again. Bucky didn't move to follow. In fact, he let the other man disappear out of sight.

Amy drew a shaky breath- choking on smoke that she realised probably only existed in the confines of her memory. Her lungs didn't seem to care- didn't see a distinction- and she was starting to feel the impossible cold- the ice cold burn of the fire- and any moment now- she knew, she was going to hear the screams.

Her legs gave out, but Bucky was there to catch her before she fell down the stairs.

Bucky.

Bucky was there.

"Amy. You need to breathe."

"I can't!"

"Yes, you can."

She shook her head, closed her eyes, pressed her lips tight together. She could smell them burning.

She'd had this dream so many times, but never while she'd been awake.

"It's not real, Amy."

"It is real!"

It was so real. She was right back in hell, lying in the dirt, body broken, soul shattered. She tried to press her hands over her ears to block out the sounds, but Bucky wouldn't let her hide. As hard as she fought him- he held her arms down.

"Please," she begged. "Help me. I don't want to hear them die."

"Then listen to me. Focus on me."

How? How was she supposed to do that when she could barely even see him? Her eyes saw only the Humvee- saw the flames overwhelm it- and the death that rained down around her… why now- why now- why now-?

Her sergeant was yelling- his last orders- the precise words she had never been able to hear- but they told her to stand- to get up- to fight.

She shook her head hard- trying to shake herself free- until she felt the weight of Bucky's hands on either side of her face. It jolted her a little- that familiar contrast of metal and skin. Gave her an anchor to cling to as he saved her from being cast adrift.

"Stay with me."

She felt his lips brush against her ear, felt his body surround hers. The nightmares were all her own, but this time she wasn't facing them alone.

She didn't know how long it took for Bucky's voice to replace the screams, but she let it guide her home. Shaken to her core by the time she made it back. Tasting tears. He had her held in his arms, on his lap. They were sitting on the stairs, her gun laying within easy reach of his hand.

The lights were on- normal now- everything seemed sharper. Brighter. Crisp and clear again. And the only thing she could smell was the clean scent of Bucky's skin.

"You back?" he asked softly, stroking his fingers through her hair.

"I think so…" Amy replied, tone raw and scratchy.

She pressed her face into his shoulder and breathed him in. She was clutching his sweater so tightly that her hands were cramping, throbbing too where she had slipped with the screwdriver and cut herself earlier.

"What was that?" she whispered.

"You tell me."

"Impossible…?"

"Yeah."

"Why am I the only one falling apart?" she asked quietly.

"I've had a little more practice with HYDRA's mind games."

And that knowledge now made Amy's stomach turn with new horror.

"But how did you know something was wrong?"

"Steve, mostly," said Bucky. "No way was that really him."

"But this is real now, right?" Amy asked, panicked. "We're real?"

Bucky's eyes travelled over her face, and then he turned the gun over- offered it to her with the muzzle pointed at his chest.

"Take it," he said. "You're going to shoot me the second I do anything that makes you doubt who I am."

She shook her head, snatched her hands out of reach so he couldn't press the gun into her palm.

"No."

"Amy-"

"I don't need it, Bucky."

He kept looking at her, studying her, love and gratitude burning hot in his eyes. He nodded his head and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks. Did they have time for this? Probably not. But there was just one more thing that she absolutely had to say.

"I'm really glad you're here with me."

And maybe that was selfish. But it was so completely true.

It made him smile. So she knew she'd been right to make the confession.

He pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Are you ready to go on?" he asked.

Amy nodded, eased herself off his lap and back onto her feet. And there was the pain in her leg again. How had she forgotten it? She shivered. Unnerved that anything- that anyone- could have that sort of control over her mind.

"It's really her, isn't it?" she asked, following Bucky as they continued their descent, needing him to move more slowly now as her body reminded her of its limitations. "The woman you met in Europe? The one everyone was talking about in Stark's suite?"

"I think so, and I'm thinking she may have brought her brother too."

"You think that's who 'Steve' really was, don't you?"

"Maybe."

Amy chewed her lip.

"Do you think- the phone call from Hill-?"

"I don't know, Amy. I don't think anything's been quite what it's seemed since the alarms went off."

Amy rubbed a hand over her face. The alarm had been real. Probably. Probably the result of some initial attack. And then what? Nothing but magic and illusion? And her own broken mind forcing her to confront the fact that she was caught up in a nightmare? She was so far outside her realm of expertise that she thought she might be sick.

"They're leading us to Stark's workshop. Why are they doing that?"

"You."

"What?"

"They're leading you. The phone call was for you. Steve's doppelganger came for you. They didn't know I'd be here too."

"They know it now," said Amy.

"Don't they just," Bucky growled.

"So… you think continuing on the way they want us to go is the right thing to do?" she asked hesitantly.

"I don't think we have a choice."

She made the mistake of glancing behind her- of seeing how there simply was no way back- of how the walls were closing in on them. She groaned and slipped her fingers inside Bucky's hand. His left hand. He preferred to carry the gun in his right.

"You realise this isn't possible, don't you?" she asked, looking around at the familiar yet altered space. They'd finally reached a door that took them out onto the floor below.

"Amy, you live in a world full of superheroes and HYDRA and God knows what else."

"That doesn't mean people are allowed to ignore basic physics."

Bucky gave a short snort of laughter.

"I kind of think it might, sweetheart. It'll be okay. Steve and Sam, and I guess the Avengers, they have to be around here somewhere."

"But maybe on a whole different level of this nightmare, if I'm understanding things at all?"

Bucky grimaced, "Maybe."

"Do you think we'll be the only ones lucky enough to meet her?" Amy asked slowly, eyes finally noticing a young dark haired woman. She was standing alone at the other end of the corridor, positioned in front of the closed double doors that led into Stark's workshop. A hallowed space that Amy had never entered.

Bucky's grip on her hand tightened.

"I sort of hope so."

They walked down the corridor. There didn't seem to be a choice. There was no sign of Hill, which Amy took to mean that she had never been here in the first place. It had all been a trap, and she'd gone and dragged Bucky into it with her…

But before she could let those recriminations cut too deep, the woman spoke.

"Open the door."

Robotic was the wrong word, but it was the one that jumped to the front of Amy's mind. She relaxed her posture in response and chose the tone of her reply carefully.

"You can do all of this but you can't open a door?"

"I can't control the computers in this building."

So there were rules. That was nice to know.

"What makes you think I can?" asked Amy.

"You broke out of Karl Kraus's facility."

"Tony Stark is not Karl Kraus. Tony Stark is not going to build a security system that the likes of me is able to breach."

"You're lying."

Amy smiled sadly and shook her head, "I'm really not-"

Bucky pushed her- hard. Hard enough that it hurt when she crashed into the wall. But not so hard that she wasted a second worrying about herself instead of him.

He'd knocked her out of the way so that he alone would take the full force of whatever it was that had just hit him. Slamming him all the way back down the corridor and into the wall at its far end. Ploughing into him with enough force to crack the plasterwork from floor to ceiling.

Amy screamed Bucky's name.

He was bent double, hands on his knees, blood running from one corner of his mouth. Pain etched across his face. Amy pushed herself away from the wall- needing to run to him- but her path was blocked by another man. A young man. A boy, almost. That was how he looked to Amy, standing in front of her- appearing out of nowhere.

She took a backwards step.

"Open the door."

She shook her head.

Not because she was brave.

But because it was impossible.

"Enough."

Three pairs of eyes turned to look at Bucky. He'd managed to stand straight. Wipe the blood from his face. Bury the pain so deep that Amy was sure she was the only one who could see it lingering in the pinched corners of his mouth.

"You're stronger than whoever sent you here. You don't have to follow their orders."

The man, Pietro, Amy assumed, looked towards his sister.

"It's a trick," said the young woman.

"It's not a trick." Bucky was stalking his way back down the corridor. "You have a choice."

"There is no choice." Wanda. She had to be Wanda, turned her eyes back to Amy. "Open the door."

"No."

Amy wished she could inject a drop of Bucky's confidence into her refusal, but the mere fact that she had forced the tiny word across her lips would have to do.

The air crackled, and she blinked, trying to clear her vision, until she realised the red mist that she could see wasn't actually a figment of her imagination.

"I won't ask again."

"Yes, you will," said Bucky, reaching Amy's side.

She wondered if he had any plans to use the gun that he was still carrying. Well, no, she didn't… She knew he wouldn't- not against these people. It would have been futile anyway. She reached for his hand again, and held on tight, trusting him with her life.

Perhaps she was trusting him with her death too.

"You'll ask again in the hope she'll say yes," Bucky continued. "I'll save you the trouble, and tell you she won't, which narrows your choices down to two options."

"We'll kill you then, and find Tony Stark instead."

"If you could reach Stark you wouldn't have led us here."

Amy knew she shouldn't have said that out loud. But it was easier to be fearless when Bucky was standing at her side.

"You haven't killed anyone yet, have you?" he asked. There was a calculating look in his eyes. "You held back when we met before." He switched his focus from the young woman to her brother. "And you held back just then."

"We could kill you."

"But you don't really want to, do you?" asked Bucky.

"How would you know? When you're the Winter Soldier?"

"I'm James Buchanan Barnes. You can choose who you want to be too."

Bucky's words touched Pietro most deeply. Amy saw it. Saw his thoughts begin to turn over in a new fashion. Maybe Bucky wasn't Steve, but that didn't mean he couldn't lead- especially when it came to a couple of kids like these two- who had experienced things that he among so very few could understand.

"Wanda-?"

"We need the program."

"No. They need the program. Please, Wanda?"

And there was the look. Almost exactly the same lost look that Amy had seen Bucky wear when she had first met him. It sank its talons into her heart. Her hatred of HYDRA just kept growing. They were a disease. Hurting and destroying and corrupting everything they touched.

"Are you okay?" she asked.

How that question alighted from her lips, Amy wasn't sure, but she might have fired a weapon for the reaction it provoked. Wanda stepped back. Eyes wide, and slightly unfocused, slightly unstable. And the scarlet mist? The mist was getting thicker. Bucky tugged Amy to a standstill- had she really been about to take a step towards the young woman?

"They're coming," said Wanda.

Amy looked at Bucky.

"Steve?" she whispered the name at him.

"They could help you," he said, his eyes still fixed on the twins.

"We don't need anyone's help."

"Then you don't need to go back to HYDRA, do you?"

It was the last thing Bucky got to say before the scarlet explosion ripped through the corridor and brought down the ceiling, allowing brother and sister to escape.

"This way," Amy yelled, pulling hard on Bucky's arm.

She'd realised that Stark must have made the structure of his workshop out of something utterly insane if HYDRA's newest protégés couldn't break through it. But she had a hunch it might not be as impenetrable as it seemed. Not for them… well, not now the corridor was crumbling around them anyhow.

Her own arm was very nearly pulled out of its socket as Bucky took the hint, making her move at a pace far beyond her body's own capabilities. He propelled her into the slightly concave space before the workshop doorway.

"J.A.R.V.I.S.?" Amy cried, hitting the door with the palm of her hand.

No answer. None that she could hear anyway. But she couldn't hear anything above the booming explosions taking place behind her.

She tried to make herself as small as possible, tried to make room for Bucky. She was shaking uncontrollably. His chest was pressed hard against her back, pinning her tight between the door and himself. Keeping her safe, keeping her shielded.

Which meant, when the doors to the workshop did rush open, for just long enough to let them fall inside, there was nothing to stop Amy tipping forwards and crashing down onto the floor.

The impact jarred through her knees and the heels of her hands. She dropped flat, muscles tense, eyes scrunched shut, waiting for the heavy slam of Bucky's body to fall on top of her- but of course, it didn't come.

She saw there was one clenched fist pressed into the linoleum on either side of her head when she prised open her eyes, each hand bearing Bucky's weight, caging her beneath his body. She turned over onto her back so that she could see his face.

She had to admit, she wasn't expecting the irritated scowl.

"You actually do have security clearance for Stark's private workshop?"

Bucky sounded so put out that Amy couldn't contain a burst of shaky laughter.

Now was not the moment to descend into hysteria however, so she eased herself up onto her elbows to better face his annoyance.

"No. Of course not," she said, before she gave up all semblance of decorum and restraint and threw her arms around his neck in heady relief.

She felt him wince, heard his sharp intake of breath, and immediately tried to pull back. But his right arm had found her waist- had curled tight around her body.

"You're hurt?" she asked, touching his face with her fingertips.

Of course he was hurt. It was only his arm that was made of metal. But he brushed off her concern.

"How did you get us inside?"

"Oh. I- um- I made one of those assumptions that you hate so much," Amy confessed, worrying her lip. "Well, someone's best friend convinced Stark that my life was worth protecting, didn't they? And Stark might be a little unreliable, but J.A.R.V.I.S. knows how to follow an instruction to the letter. I figured if my life was actually in danger it would override all his other protocols."

"Correct, Ms Thomas."

Bucky lifted his eyes at the sound the computer's confirmation, and then he returned his attention to Amy.

"Yeah… okay," he said slowly. "I'll let you call that an educated guess."