Chapter 18

29 November 2017, Small House Near Suhar, Oman

As he dialled the number and began opening all the locks on the front door, Steve heard Tony call out, "At least walk further away from the house, will you, Romeo? We heard every word last time."

Steve gestured rudely behind his head and then slammed the door behind him. As soon as he heard Clémence's voice, he said thickly, "Hello, Clémence. How are you doing?"

"Steve! Oh, my goodness, I didn't think I would get to talk to you again for ages! Are you ok? Is everything doing well there? Do you want me to send you anything? I've missed you!"

Steve made an amused sound before he replied, "I'm fine, Clémence. No, I don't need you to send anything, but thank you. I have missed you, too, my love."

He smiled as he heard her soft, high-pitched voice asking, "Is the weather awful there?"

"Not too bad. Warm. How are you doing, Clémence? Have you been taking good care of yourself?"

"Yes, I promise. Emilie has been such a good friend. We've been together nearly every day this week. Bucky sent her a beautiful, gemstone inlaid game of Cartouche and we've been a bit obsessed."

Steve leant against the outer wall of the small safehouse that the team had been using and groaned slightly. He ought to have sent something like that. Flowers were not much use after all. "I am glad that you've been having fun with her. Bucky is extremely concerned about his extended absence."

Clémence animatedly replied, "She's been doing ok, I think. He calls her a lot, so that helps. I don't think that he has to worry. But she talks about him so much."

He frowned as he wondered if she was complaining about how frequently he had called or if she was just trying to reassure him about Emilie. Metatext was usually lost on him, sadly. "And when is the physician coming for the next check?"

Her excitement was palpable as she responded happily, "In two days. But I really feel fine. Not sick at all. I think that Emilie is going to figure it out though. I'm completely awful at keeping secrets."

Steve banged his fist into his thigh as he tried to keep his control and very calmly responded, "If you are spending that much time together, then I don't see how you can keep the secret. Bucky knows, so you might as well let her in on it. You're sure that you are eating ok? Nadezhda is there to help all three of you, not just Eleanor. She will make you anything that you want to eat."

"I'm eating everything that the physician suggested and a good bit elsewise. I've been really hungry this week." She hopefully asked, "You're sure that I can tell Emilie?"

"Of course. It is fine, my love. I should talk to you about Eleanor."

Suddenly, Clémence's tone changed and she anxiously replied, "Oh! Oh, poor Eleanor. I cannot believe that she has agonia. She shows anchodia like most of us, but agonia is so awful. She never seemed like that before."

He cleared his throat and spoke in a firmer tone. "I don't think that the situation is quite as it was reported, Clémence. Tony seems to think that she doesn't have agonia at all, but was misdiagnosed and given the wrong treatments all this time."

He could hear her shock as Clémence exclaimed, "Really? But that is horrible! Who would want to do that to Eleanor? A diagnosis of agonia is almost social suicide for a guardian-class woman, Steve." There was a pause and then Clémence added, "It means that she is unstable and, you know, many Alphas would not want their matches to be friendly with her."

As he flailed despairingly within the sea of his emotions, Steve did not reply for a moment. When he finally did speak, his voice was rough and hoarse with displeasure. "You will not abandon that friendship because of some ridiculous social convention, Clémence. Clint is my teammate. Do not forget that Eleanor is the sole reason that I was privileged to receive an Introduction to you. We do not give in to superstition and social pressure like that, Clémence. Eleanor Barton is a very special person and we will support her and Clint throughout this time."

Clémence's voice wavered pitifully as she tried quite unsuccessfully to hide that she was crying. "Yes, of course, Alpha."

"I know that you are better than that, Clémence."

She whispered pitifully, "I did not intend to upset you, Alpha."

"No, you intended to see if you were supposed to shun a woman who has been nothing but kind to you simply because she had been given an unfortunate psychiatric diagnosis."

Clémence gasped and then took several deep shuddering breaths before she said, "But, Alpha, it is my duty to do what you desire. No matter what my own wishes are."

Steve threw down the twig he had been shredding and kicked the side of the building as his anger surged forwards. "If I want you do to something, Clémence, then I will talk to you about it. You don't need to borrow trouble by asking for it. It does not say anything good to me that either you were hoping that I would let you shun Eleanor so you wouldn't be socially damaged by your friendship with her or you thought that I am the kind of man who would judge people in that way."

He could no longer pretend that she wasn't crying miserably, so the warring impulses in his head were beating at him painfully. After her continued silence showed no signs of abating, Steve demanded, "Well?"

"I-I am not sure what I am supposed to say. I am sorry, Alpha. I-I don't understand. Please tell me what you want me to say."

He growled, "I want you to explain yourself."

Clémence sniffled and stammered tearfully, "Ok. I will. I…I am so sorry that I upset you, Alpha. I don't really understand what I did."

Steve rested his forehead on his right arm against the side of the house and then slowly, carefully explained, "You need to tell me why you want to shun your friend, Clémence."

"Oh, I don't. I don't! However, I cannot socialise with her if you forbid it. My father would have ordered me to have nothing further to do with her a month ago." She sniffled and made a small sound like a hiccough as she attempted to get control of herself before she gushed, "I like Eleanor so much. I remember when Emilie brought her to my uncle's house during their Short Break, I was 15 and I wanted to be just like her. I-I thought she was so cultured and clever and elegant. She was even more beautiful than Emilie, which made all my male cousins go crazy. She had such perfect style and she was so kind to me: she taught me how put my hair up in the North Shore hairdo and helped me practise wearing court-shoes for dancing. Of course, I don't want to stop being her friend. She's the nicest girl I know."

He could clearly hear his match's admiration for Eleanor, so Steve felt the fight start to go out of him. His temper had always been the worst part of his character. "I do not approve of that kind of snobbery, Clémence, so you may assume going forwards that I will not expect you to shun people in that way."

"Yes, Alpha. I won't try to ask in the future. I will wait until you talk to me. I am sorry that I offended you."

Steve groaned and, before he could stop himself, snapped, "I was offended because you believed that I might be the kind of bastard who turns on friends when they are in need."

"I see. I see. I am very, very sorry. I do understand that you are very different from my father. I won't make that assumption again."

As he heard her crying once again, Steve slumped against the building and muttered, "S***." After a moment more of listening to her misery, he more gently said, "Clémence, it is fine. Please, don't cry anymore, my love. It is understandable that you would expect me to react like your family would have. You have never known anything different. I ought to have expected that, instead of overreacting."

"You are so much kinder than my father and my brothers. I should have known you wouldn't respond to Eleanor's situation like they would. It is my fault."

Steve replied in a purposefully calming voice, which usually had the effect of reassuring her, "Perhaps not. We are still very new to each other, Clémence. It was very unfair for me to be so angry with you about this. I am sorry. I am very glad that you like Eleanor. Once she is allowed to receive visitors, it would be good for you to go over to Clint's apartment."

Her excitement surprised him and further demonstrated to him how unreasonably he had reacted before. "May I really? Will Agent Barton allow that yet?"

"I don't know when he will, but as soon as he does, then it would be kind of you to go."

"Thank you. I would like that. Am I forgiven, Alpha?"

Steve sighed. "There is nothing to forgive and you don't have to call me that always, Clémence. You are now my match and my partner."

"Oh. Do you not wish me to use your title any longer? I am sorry if I have done things wrong. I only wanted to show you the traditional respect."

"Clémence, love, I am grateful that I have finally earned that title, especially as it is from you. It means everything to me. Yet, I am not a dictator. I do want your partnership more than I want your submission. You are allowed to use my name, ok? Do you understand?"

Clearly frightened and utterly unsure what Steve was trying to say, Clémence whispered, "I will do my best."

"I was wrong to have misjudged you earlier, Clémence, and to speak so cruelly to you. You deserve better than that. Will you take care of yourself now, my love? I am concerned for you, since I am not there to help."

"I am doing everything that the physician is asking, I promise."

"I am sure that you are. I am afraid that I cannot talk for much longer. Will you tell me if there is anything else that you need? Would you like for me to order anything for you?"

"No, thank you. I have everything I need." There was a moment silence and then she added in a flustered rush, "Oh! The flowers that came this afternoon were really, really lovely. I love that particular shade of yellow."

He couldn't help but smile with relief that she had liked his offering after all. Next time though, he would send something more useful like Bucky had. "I remembered you saying so. I am glad that you enjoyed them. Please be sure to be careful with yourself, Clémence. You are irreplaceable, you see."

"I-I will. I worry about you being safe, you know."

Steve grimaced. "I'm safe. You do not need to worry. Unfortunately, I may not be able to call you again for a few days. However, when that is done, I should be ready to come home."

"Really? I thought the mission was going to be so much longer."

"It is. I am passing the last portion on to our SHIELD backup. It is time that we were all home."

"That would be so wonderful. I will be very happy to have you back."

Steve wished that she wanted him back because her feelings in any way matched his. However, he knew well enough that the truth was that Clémence merely felt insecure and anxious without him there. Her reaction to his bonding hormones during their bondmatching ceremony had been quite intense, so she now feared that his job would get him killed and leave her with a broken bond. The coming baby was not likely to help her anxiety in the least. "Not nearly as much as I will be to be there with you, my love. Good night, Clémence."

"Goodbye, Steve."

He turned on his heel and growled furiously as he stalked back towards the front door. When he entered the house, Bucky looked up from the cot beside the door and commented dryly, "Well that was not quite what I meant when I told you to call your girl, Steven."

"Shut up, Bucky. I'm not in the mood."

"Well too bad, pal. Look, if you think that Emilie didn't fear that I might have the same reaction, then you're not thinking clearly. As soon as she heard about Eleanor, Emilie asked permission to continue the friendship. And I didn't make her feel like s*** for asking me either."

Steve glared at Bucky. "You weren't pissed off that your match thinks you're that kind of man? That doesn't sound like you, Buck."

Bucky, however, simply shrugged. "Our matches both grew up in a powerful, prominent family that is restrictive like that. Instead of making her cry, Steve, you could have used that opportunity to show your quality. Honestly, I can't believe that Clémence even got up enough nerve to ask. From what I have seen, Steve, she's too terrified of displeasing you to take a risk at anything you haven't explicitly told her to do."

"She didn't. She brought up the subject obliquely. You make me sound like a Bluebeard, Bucky. I don't order Clémence around like that."

"Ah, that sounds more like it. Too afraid not to ask but even more afraid to actually ask. Bringing the subject up in conversation was the way to go. I bet Emilie suggested that, actually." Bucky nodded sagely and then looked at Steve for a moment before saying, "Poor kid. Emilie says that Clémence's parents were even more controlling than hers, which is a pretty extraordinary statement, honestly. I suspect that Clémence was taught that once she was bondmatched, she should change everything to please her match."

Steve sighed despondently. "I really hope not, Bucky, but I'm starting to wonder. They certainly taught her to be afraid of using my first name if there is even a chance that I might be unhappy about something. It was nice at first to have finally earned the title of Alpha. However, then I realised what it really means when she says it so often. It means she's scared."

Bucky nodded. "Yep. It won't always be like that once she feels more secure, Steve. You've only been matched a very short while."

"I hope so. Buck, I really hope that Emilie was never this afraid of you all the time. It is miserable, you know? There is no way to please her, since she is afraid to be happy. She is always uncertain and trying to find something else to do in order to please me. It is making me crazy."

"Yeah, well, that was the whole first year for us. It might take a while, Steve. Also, the subservience is not nearly as natural to Emilie as I suspect it is to Clémence, so her father used to cane her when she acted even slightly out of step to his demands."

"Holy s***, Buck."

"It isn't like you and I didn't get the belt as boys, but we were out there breaking windows with baseballs and getting into fights. Once Emilie got caned because she asked why guardian-class Omegas were not allowed to play on the playground with the other children at school."

"So, Clémence was probably punished like that, too. S***. My poor darling."

"I think that it is quite definite that she was. So, it might take a while, Steve. You have told me that Clémence was not the favourite child."

Steve's expression darkened angrily. "Definitely not. Her two older sisters were supposed to be the family beauties and Clémence didn't have an easy time at school, apparently, so she was not expected to do well for her bondmatch."

"Looks like they were wrong about that."

Steve smiled slightly and kicked Bucky's leg lightly. "Thanks, Buck."

His voice unusually uncertain, Bucky asked, "Hey, Steve, we're good, right?"

"What? Yeah, of course we are."

"Because…you know."

Steve dropped down next to Bucky on the cot and replied, "Yeah, I know."

Bucky breathed out unsteadily and then admitted, "I've been doing a lot of s*** that was damaging the bond."

"Bucky, I'm not going anywhere. You will always be my brother."

As he scratched his scruffy, untrimmed beard, Bucky asked, "Even when I'm acting like a complete f***head?"

Steve laughed sharply as he punched Bucky's arm. "Yep, even then. Honestly, I'm still amazed that we made it through my hopeless fighting days."

"Oh? We made it through? Thank f***. When was that?"

Smiling broadly, Steve started taking off his boot as he responded, "Shuddup, jerk. I meant the days when I sought out other guys just so I could instigate an Alpha confrontation."

"So, yesterday."

"Ugh. You're impossible. I'm talking about our childhood, you a**."

Bucky laughed. "Ok, ok, Steve. I know what you mean. Most of us Alphas did the same thing as teenagers, you know. We were just better able to keep from getting the stuffing knocked out of us than you were pre-serum. Honestly, I was impressed as f*** that you kept getting back up every time. That s*** actually sealed our bond, you idiot."

Steve grunted with relief as he kicked his other boot aside and wriggled his toes. "Well, it sure did on my part, Bucky. You always, always stood at my back and fought with me."

"D*** right I did."

"I'm going to recall the team to New York tomorrow."

"Yeah, I overheard that."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Did you hear the whole call?"

"Supersoldier hearing is a blessing and a curse, Steven."

"Yeah, yeah. I'm going to make a report to SHIELD tonight and order us out in the morning."

Bucky slumped back against the wall beside the bed. "It's a good call, Steve. If our morale got any lower, we'd need fireproof gear and pitchforks to fend off the locals. Are you even going to try to sleep?"

"Not really. You should though."

"Yeah, that's gonna happen. I'll make us some coffee. You get that report done and then we'll head out for one last recon."

29 November 2017, Penthouse Apartment, Stark Tower, Someplace Else

"No, Rhodey, that's a steaming pile of bull. If Rogers and his band of merry men were hiding out in Canada, then my sources would know."

"Ross is pretty sure that Romanoff was seen in Newfoundland."

Stark tapped his stylus on the desk and replied sharply, "Ross has s*** for brains, Rhodey, so what he thinks doesn't matter. Besides, do you honestly believe that I don't have better intel than he does?"

"No, I don't. However, I did think you might want a warning."

"Whatever. How are the braces doing?"

Rhodes' voice got a little more upbeat, as he replied, "They're good, Tony. The latest updates have been helpful when I'm using the stairs. I'll be there on Saturday for my check-up. We can talk about all that then. I'm worried about you, man. Pepper says that you have been sleeping down in the workshop most nights and you're back to subsisting on mostly smoothies and coffee."

"I'm fine. It is fine."

"It isn't fine, Tony. You know it isn't. Pepper was bedrock for you, so there is no way you aren't having a hard time with this. She's worried about you, too, you know. Look, you know that I was one of the strongest supporters on the team for signing the Accords. It seemed like a good, reasonable compromise. But that was before we found out about the off-shore Supermax that Ross is running and how draconian the restrictions really would be. They wouldn't even approve us to help with the earthquake relief effort. This just isn't working, Tony."

Stark groaned and stared at the ceiling for a while. Then he said resignedly, "I know. F***. I hate that Steve was right, but d*** it, he was right. Everything has gone to s***."

"You had a hand in it, Tony, so you're going to have to be part of the solution."

"Nope. I'm not reconciling with them. Barnes killed my mom and Steve protected him. He protected a f***ing murderer."

"They are best friends, Tony. You created a genocidal AI robot and I protected you."

"That isn't the same, Rhodey."

Rhodes made a derisive sound and said grimly, "No, actually, it is worse, Tony. Barnes had no more control over what HYDRA made him do than my plane did when I dropped a bomb. You may not have intended Ultron to kill all those people, but you did programme a sentient robot to protect the world without asking the people of the world whether they wanted it. We've all seen 'AI', Tony. I think most people would have said no. It doesn't surprise me at all that the thing went full-bore Tutsi and we were the Hutus."

Stark threw the stylus against the wall and, as that was insufficient, threw a pen and then a wrench. "I watched a video of Barnes choking my mother to death, Rhodey. I don't know how to come back from that."

"Well, would it help if you used B.A.R.F. and relived what happened in Siberia? You might see it very differently from the outside. And you truly, truly need to rename that programme, by the way."

"Uh, probably not a good plan to try it, buddy. Seeing that again might make things worse."

Rhodes replied, "Think about it. I'll do it with you."

"Maybe. See you Saturday."

"Yeah, ok, Tony."