Not That Lucky Chapter 34, an avengers fanfic

A/N: Y'all know the deal. I love you pls leave me comments/reviews!

Chapter #34:

11:38 PM

"Yes...Yes. This is a fertile land, and we will thrive. We will rule over all this land, and we will call it...This Land. I think we should call it...your grave! Ah! Curse your sudden, but inevitable betrayal!" -Wash (Firefly)

[5:00 PM]

One of the many perks of being friends with Alex was that they somehow knew everyone. There was no logical explanation as to how they had the number of contacts they did, or why they all owed them some inexplicable favor, but Alex did. A part of me was a little terrified of the connections they had, but that was overshadowed by the relief that for some reason they just liked me and helped me out of the goodness of their heart.

"I got bad news for you." Alex said over the phone.

I was leaning against the hood of their car in the boondocks of Washington DC waiting for this information. It hadn't taken me long to get to DC yesterday. An hour to pack up some necessities, another hour to convince Alex that this wasn't a suicide run, and four hours on the road. At that point I could've found the ring and run in blind, but despite popular belief I was not an idiot. So, I had found a place to park Alex's car and lay low.

"We knew it was gonna be bad news, Alex."

"Yeah, no, this is bad, bad news though, Aj." Alex replied. "DC is having a fire sale."

I stiffened in surprise, "What? I thought they stopped that shit."

"Apparently not." Alex mumbled. A fire sale was the nickname for a competition where the last man standing won a prize. The prize was usually some poor, young woman held against her will though. Typically, one that was hooked on enough drugs that they didn't understand what was going on or a fighter who had made too many mistakes.

"That explains why Angela called her sister saying good-bye." I sighed and didn't bother to hide my disgust at the situation. Fire sales brought out the sleaziest, worst of the worst kind of men, and that's usually what the competitors consisted of. Men. No woman who had any understanding of a fire sale participated. For the most part, at least. We were criminals and assholes, but that shit was a new level of evil. It was solidarity amongst the female fighters. We all knew that our asses could've ended up as some 'prize' just as easily. "You know, I hate Boss with every atom of who I am, but I'll commend him for never dealing in fire sales."

Alex scoffed, "The only reason he didn't was because the dick didn't like to share."

I tilted my head with a small shrug. They weren't wrong. I quickly cleared my throat, "There's good news to this though. It makes my job real easy. All I have to do is walk in and pick up Angela."

"No, you have to walk in, fight a crowd of assholes, most who play dirty, and then hope they let you walk out with her instead of just killing you."

"Po-tay-to, Po-tah-to." I responded. Alex mumbled under their breath on the other end of the line. "When is it going down?"

"Tonight. 9 PM. You know where the main ring entrance is?"

"Yeah, this isn't my first rodeo with DC. Has been a while though." I said. It's been three years since I visited the DC ring. Boss had dragged me along on what he called a business trip, but I think it had been more an excuse to show me off to all his slimy, criminal friends. "Any other tips?"

Alex hummed, "Yeah, call your Avenger friends to deal with this instead of throwing yourself headfirst into danger."

I rolled my eyes, "Bye, Alex."

Their advice wasn't bad? Clint and Natasha were on mission though so I didn't want to bother them, Thor was off world, Sam would lay the therapy on thick, Tony would be awkward since I hadn't cleared the air with him yet, and I would bite my own tongue off before asking Steve for help.

'Hey, Steve, I know I ruined your chance of finding your brother from another mother, best friend, most important person in the world to you, but do you think you can punch a few people in the face for me? Yeah, thanks.'

No thanks.

A part of me wondered if there was more to that though. I had all these excuses as to why reaching out for help would be a terrible, no good, bad idea, but were they really just that? Excuses? Maybe a part of me wanted to deal with this on my own. Maybe this decision was being made by the monster that sat in the back of my head. I reasoned with myself and believed this choice was being made from the logical side of myself, but I was a very good liar. Especially to myself.

I glanced at my watch. 5:06 PM. That gave me enough time to get ready, eat some food, and take a nap before I threw myself back into the world of underground, illegal fighting.

[6:24 PM]

Tony's lab was a wreck and that was worrisome to him. Everyone knew that the lab was an extension of the man himself. There were times when various designs and prototypes would build up on his benches and cause a clutter. It meant Tony's full attention was on a project. Finding a collection of half-drunk coffee mugs meant he was frustrated and stuck. Finding empty bottles of liquor was a cry for help, and luckily that didn't happen often anymore. For the most part though, even on his worst days, Tony kept the lab itself clean. This was his sanctuary.

As Steve stepped into the room his eyes landed on used oil rags littering the floor, scattered papers and blueprints on benches precariously, to-go boxes of various kinds stacked up in multiple places. He had been in the lab for more than 48 hours now. Which, granted, wasn't the longest marathon he had undergone, but it was concerning all the same.

"Lab's closed, Captain." Tony called out without looking up from his work. Steve's friend was still wearing the suit he had on when he last spoke to him in the training gym, but now it was wrinkled and undone. "Come back never."

Steve stepped over an engine block to get closer. He rested his hands on the belt of his uniform, "Tony, talk to me. You need help, and I'm not leaving until you agree to leave with me. You need sleep, a shower, some real food…"

Tony turned to face him. His suit coat had been tossed aside, probably lost in the trash and junk surrounding them, and he had taken his tie off as well. The white button up shirt, stained with a splattering of oil, was unbuttoned at his neck, "Why do you keep trying this? I know you're a stubborn bastard, but come on, man. Take a damn hint."

"You're my friend. I care about you, Tony." Steve said firmly and tried to ignore the scoff Tony let out at the words. He clenched his jaw in frustration before forcing himself to relax, "Just talk to me. Is this still about…about what Aj told—"

"You talk to Aj recently?" Tony suddenly asked.

Steve liked it better when the man was just telling him to get out. He swallowed the lump in his throat and shook his head. Steve wished he had a different answer, "No. I haven't. Have you?"

"Nope." Tony replied then shook his head. "I don't deserve her attention or forgiveness. Not after the shit I said to her." Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. He had thought the man was still upset at Aj, not the other way around. "You should reach out to her. Talk to her."

Steve sighed and glanced down to his boots. Tony was right. The problem was that he should've reached out to her ages ago. Back when he first came to terms with his anger. Too much time had passed, and Steve didn't even know how to reach out. Steve wasn't sure what would happen if he saw Aj again. Either he'd look into those burning blue eyes and be hit with a wall of guilt at letting her go or he'd take one look at her and the anger would return. Steve wasn't sure which road he was more scared of.

"I can't." Steve said softly.

"Why?" Tony snapped. "Because the way I see it, and believe me, Rogers, I've looked at this a hundred different ways, you have zero right to be upset with her. In fact, you should be sending her a goddamn fruit basket."

Steve's eyes narrowed, "Look, I know I shouldn't have snapped at her. I should've taken a step back and let my anger cool before confronting her, but you can't deny what she did. Aj lied to me. She lied to me about Bucky—"

"She kept her promise to him. Bucky—" Tony spat the name out in distaste, "He made that choice for her. She just stayed loyal to him and can you blame her? He saved her life. What the fuck have you done for her again, Rogers? Because from where I'm standing all I see is you being a dick even though she saved your life."

Steve was lost now. Lost and frankly a little pissed. He shook his head, "Tony, I don't know what your problem is, but you need to either talk to me about it or stop being an ass." He scoffed. "And for the record, getting scolded by a man who can't swallow his pride and go talk to her either doesn't do much for me."

Tony tossed aside the wrench in his hand and stepped closer so he was nearly chest to chest with him. The man had a seething, barely concealed rage in his eyes. Steve had seen Tony angry before, but this was a whole new level of fury.

"I'm going to ask you something, and you better think long and hard about the answer, Rogers." Tony said between clenched teeth. "Did you know?"

It only took a few seconds for Steve to connect the dots. The question gave it all away. It explained exactly why Tony looked so murderous. Tony wasn't supposed to find out though. The secret had been burned away with the rest of Bucky's file. Tony had known for a month now that his parents had died at the hands of HYDRA, but Steve wondered how long he had known this new truth.

"Tony—"

"No." Tony snapped and shoved him back a step while continuing to approach himself. He pointed at him, "I didn't ask for an excuse or story. It's a yes or no question. Did you know?"

Steve sighed, "Yes."

Even though Tony already knew the answer to that question, the answer still looked like it caught him off guard. This hadn't been his intentions at all. Steve never wanted to hurt Tony. A part of him let the secret die out in an attempt to protect him. That was the justification he used to stave off guilt at least.

"You fucking hypocrite." Tony laughed, cold as ice. He shook his head, "You snap at Aj, shun her for a month, for keeping a secret from you. When you did—" he couldn't even finish his statement. Tony pressed his lips together into a tight line, his glare only deepening, then spoke, "How long have you known?"

Steve stepped forward, "You have to understand the situation, Tony. I—"

"Jesus Christ, this again!? Stop with the damn excuses and tell me how long you fucking knew!?" Tony snapped.

"Since DC. When we found a HYDRA scientist named Zola computerized in a military bunker. He said… He said a lot of things, showed the newspaper clipping of your parent's accident. I didn't connect the dots until Natasha got me Bucky's file. She had some KGB contacts—"

Tony's face broke in more pain, and his voice came out rough, "Did Natasha know too?"

"No." Steve said quickly, and it was the truth. "She didn't. Nat said I should be the first to go through the file, and after I did… I didn't let anyone look at it."

Tony closed his eyes and then set his hand over them in a pained fatigue. Steve tried to hold tight onto his justifications, but with every second that passed he felt the steady wall continue to crumble as guilt pounded on it.

"All this time…" Tony whispered to himself. He dropped his hand, opened his eyes, and the betrayal Steve saw reflecting back at him was gut-wrenching. It felt like the air had been sucked right out of his lungs. Tony shook his head, "I did the math. Aj found out and knew she had to tell me. 12 hours. That's how long she held onto that secret. The moment we touch downed she found me and told me, but… but you. 7 months. Wow."

Steve stepped forward again, but Tony immediately took a step back, "Tony, I'm… I'm sorry—"

"Would you have ever told me you knew?" Tony asked. A tense pause built around them before he continued, "If I hadn't outright asked you… you would've just kept it to yourself."

It wasn't a question, and Steve couldn't deny it.

"Like I said, Rogers." Tony spoke and this time the desolate, pain in his voice had been replaced by cold steel. "You should thank Aj for saving your miserable life. Because if I had found this out on my own—if I had found out you knew and never told me—" Tony shook his head and his next words were pushed out with determination, "I would've fucking killed you, Steve."

Steve felt heartbroken. His mind supplied the memory of the two of them standing off against one another with the cradle between them. Neither of them wanted to make that first move, but the look in Tony's eyes now? Steve knew the man wouldn't hesitate to fire. Tony wouldn't take a second to think it over, he'd fire the repulsor straight at him, and Steve couldn't convince himself that he didn't deserve it.

"Tony, my intentions were never to hurt you. I thought—I thought maybe not knowing the truth would be kinder to you." Steve tried to share his line of thought. He desperately tried to reconnect. Tony had to understand. It was Bucky. Bucky. Wouldn't Tony do the same for Rhodey? Steve shook his head, "I have no good excuse, I know that, but…but it was Bucky, Tony. I had to find him, I had to protect him, and I knew that if you knew…" if Tony knew then he'd hate his best friend, and Steve couldn't stand the thought of someone he cared so deeply for wanting to kill the man who was always there for him. Through thick and thin. "I had to protect Bucky. He's my best friend. More than that, Tony, he's my family."

"So was I." Tony replied quietly. The words drenched in pain. Steve didn't know a single statement could make him feel like he was brought to his knees, but God… He racked his brain for something to say. An apology didn't seem good enough. Tony nodded once, his voice calm and level, "Get out of my lab, Steve."

Tony turned back to what he was doing. He hesitated only for a moment before turning on his own heel to leave the lab. Steve had a mission to go on. It was only a training mission. A string of night ops to test Pietro and Wanda in the field without risk of danger, and he was already late. Steve couldn't stop going over that conversation in his head though. Maybe Tony was right. He had been angry at Aj for keeping a secret from him when he had done the same thing to Tony this entire time. It hadn't been his intention. Not at all. Steve wanted to protect Tony from unnecessary pain while protecting Bucky. It seemed like so innocent of a decision at the time, and then, like most things that got buried, the thought had been long forgotten.

Steve wasn't quite sure where to go from here.

[9:01 PM]

In New York, in order to get into the ring, if you weren't a regular, you had to go into this sketchy ass 24/7 laundromat that sat on top of the basement the ring sat in. There were various locations across the city, but the one I reigned in was the one directly under the laundromat that sprawled out via tunnels to various other basements. Essentially, it was shit. I was always aware of that, but standing in front of this high-end club to get into the DC ring just reminded me of that fact.

Loud music blasted out of the building as a line of people went around the building, waiting for the large bouncers to let them in. The crowd was dressed in mini dresses, suits, and various other degrees of dressed up and nice. It was a far cry from my sweatpants covering my spandex shorts and hoodie covering my sports bra.

With a shaky breath, I stalked up to the larger of the two bouncers who sneered at the sight of me. Unintimidated, I shot him a glare of my own, "Purple, cheetah print, dickhead." Then I shot him a smirk and motioned toward him, "The dumbass password was purple, cheetah print. The dickhead was just for you."

The man grunted once and then nodded me into the club. I rolled my shoulders and pressed past him into the loud building. My hands, shoved into my hoodie pocket, were shaking. I couldn't tell if it came from worry, fear, or, God forbid, excitement. Regardless of what it was, I needed to get back into this mindset. It's been a long time since I've walked through a ring and if I didn't figure out my shit before I got there… they were gonna eat me alive.

I pushed past a group of club goers and tried not to let the loud, obnoxious music get to me. According to my intel, the stairs leading down to the ring were somewhere by the VIP section. Which meant I got a chance to be stared at and judged before I got where I was going. That was always nice.

"Well, well, well, look what the cat dragged in." Resisting the urge to physically throw up in my mouth, I turned around to face Kyle Fucking Osbourne. He smirked at me, "Or should I say rat, you snitch."

I blinked in annoyance then lifted my hand up to my ear, "What? Sorry, I can't hear you over the noise!"

"I said—"

"What?"

Kyle's nose flared with irritation, and I took pleasure in that fact that though his broken nose had healed it was still crooked as shit. He crossed his arms over his chest where he was wearing a t-shirt way too tight for him. The only man alive that could pull off that look was Steve Rogers.

"You look nervous." Kyle chuckled and I realized the thought of Steve must have softened my features. I pressed my lips together and tried to shove every thought or feeling for any Avenger right out of my skull. "What the hell are you doing here? Looking to snitch on another ring?"

I lifted my chin in determination, "I'm here to compete."

"You're gonna compete in the fire sale?" Kyle laughed loudly and the sound was worse than nails on a chalkboard to me. "I thought that you thought they were 'sexist' and 'evil' and 'a stain on humanity that only the worst of scum would participate in'."

I nodded, "Yes, I did say all those things and you being here proves that I was on the money about it." Steeling myself again, I spoke, "Plus, I can't let any of you shitheads get your meaty claws on Angela." Kyle narrowed his eyes in confusion, and I bit back a groan, "Hammerhead, you ass."

"Oh!" Kyle grinned. "Yeah, I'm real excited about that. I've been trying to get my hands on that hot ass since—"

My hand snapped out and caught him in the throat. Kyle doubled over coughing and trying to suck in air. I leaned forward a little and spoke loudly, "Hey! What was that? I still can't hear you!"

"Small Fry. Still as violent as ever, and that temper."

God, I've been here less than ten minutes and I was already regretting everything. I slowly turned around to see another old face but in a very different way. The last time I saw this woman she was dressed like me, covered in bruises, and staring up at me from the floor in disdain. The only name I had for her was Glitter. Which was worse than even Small Fry or Hammerhead.

She had on a fancy suit without a shirt under it to show off her cleavage. Her dark hair was slicked back, big brown eyes accented with a thick, cat-eye purple eyeliner, and her lips were a dark, blood red.

"Glitter, hi. Long time, no see." I grinned.

"The name is Cherry." She glared at me with a cutting gaze.

I pressed my lips and nodded once, "That somehow sounds even more like a stripper name, but okay…"

"You have a lot of nerve coming to my ring." Glitter turned Cherry said smugly. It took a few moments for it to click in my head. Her ring? She stepped toward me, her heels making her tower over me, "I took over for George."

"Congratulations…" I mumbled to myself while simultaneously saying every curse word I knew in my head. This was a worst case scenario that I didn't even know could happen. Rarely did us little fighters make a name for ourselves. For her to jump from mediocre skilled fighter to the boss of a giant ring like DC was unheard of. The fact that this particular fighter personally hated me on an almost obsession like level was…well… Jesus, I knew tonight would be bad, but I didn't think it'd get so bad so fast.

"You've made quite the name for yourself, so I hear." Cherry chuckled. "Adopted by the Avengers. Do they know you're here tonight? Are they waiting outside? Ready to jump in when you send the signal?"

I crossed my arms, "No, they don't. The Avengers don't exactly… approve of my hobbies."

"Oh, I figured." Cherry pulled out her phone and I watched as she pulled something up. She flipped it around to show me with a smug smile, "According to Instagram, you're at family dinner right now."

The picture was taken from the Compound's dining room table. In it were two faces I didn't recognize, Sam, Steve, Clint, and Natasha. The caption was something cheesy about enjoying dinner, but it had to be a lie. Clint and Natasha were on mission which meant this had to be an old picture that Beth was probably posting. This could work for me though.

"Yeah, my general awfulness apparently doesn't fit in with the Avengers image." I shrugged. "They replaced me." The words felt bitter on my tongue, but I tried not to let that show. Saying my worst fear aloud made my heart ache. "So, I came to do what I do best. Bury my sorrows in blood."

Cherry's lips curled up in an amused smile, "You wanna fight in the fire sale? The one where I'm giving away your ring buddy as a prize?"

"Two birds, one stone." I replied and stepped forward, not bowing under her gaze, "I get catharsis and Hammerhead."

"If you win."

This time it was my turn to smirk, "Oh, I'll win. I think you know that though, Cherry. With all the times I kicked your ass, it surely made some sort of memory."

"Come with me." Cherry said with a smile, but I could see the anger in her eyes.

Kyle guffawed from behind her, "You're gonna let her join!?"

"Shut the fuck up, Osbourne." Cherry sneered.

As we walked past him, I winked at him, "See you in the ring."

Cherry led me past the VIP tables toward a red door that another man was guarding. The stairs led us down to a dimly lit hallway and it was a weird mix of club music and the faint sounds of a crowd cheering. As we entered the main room, my eyes went wide. This was not the shitty ass ring in New York. The room was huge and there were multiple rings surrounded by people. The rings here though looked like actual MMA boxing rings with flood lights all over. There was even a nice styled bar in the corner crowded with people. Even the people were different here. All of them dressed to the nines. They fit in though. Unlike the New York ring, there was no puddles of unknown liquids in corners, there was no smell of mold and piss, and there wasn't splattered blood in any spots I could see.

"You're far, far away from Jersey." Cherry whispered to me and motioned for me to keep following her. I stalked after her with my eyes still taking in the entire room. Cherry pulled open a door and motioned for me to step through. It opened up into a long hallway with various other doors. Cherry nonchalantly walked to the second and stepped through.

I followed her into a lavishly decorated office and let out a low whistle, "Fancy."

"I know." Cherry dropped into the chair behind the desk leaving me to stand in front of it. She opened a drawer and pulled out a set of familiar tools. Needle, syringe, tourniquet. Cherry was one of the many fighters who spent their free time shooting anything they could grab into their veins. Her eyes darted to mine while she worked, "It's the good stuff."

"Yum." I replied in a bored tone. I glanced around one more time then looked back to her, "You know, props to getting to where you are, but it's a real dick move. You hosting a fire sale."

Cherry shrugged, "People like to watch them."

"People are assholes." I mumbled.

"You know you're so pretentious, Small Fry." Cherry chuckled. "I don't understand why Boss was so obsessed with someone like you."

I scoffed, "Join the club."

"He gives you everything on a platter and you turn him down. Spit in his face. Honestly, it's disrespectful."

"He didn't offer me shit." I snapped. "He wanted a passive bitch to kiss his feet."

Cherry rolled her eyes, "And yes, of course, you're such a strong, independent young woman. Is that why you went cowering to the Avengers? Shame they saw how pathetic you are."

My jaw clenched and I didn't reply. Cherry continued on preparing a syringe filled with cocaine. Drugs were everywhere you looked in the ring, but I never let it get on my radar. That's not what I needed from the ring.

"I want in on the fire sale, Cherry. I wanna fight."

"Oh, I know." Cherry sung in amusement. "And I will let you. I think it'll be fun to watch as all those men kick you around the ring. The deal is though… if you lose, you become a prize same as Hammerhead."

"Sounds fair." I replied with a shrug. I didn't plan on losing. I had been good before, but after four months of training with the Black Widow, Hawkeye, The Falcon, and Captain America my skills had only increased. My concerns for losing tonight were very, very low. My only worry was that I was going to be like a shark tonight. Once blood hit the water, I'd go into a frenzy and lose sense of who I wanted to be.

Cherry held up the syringe with a smile, "And this is for you."

"You know I don't do that shit." I shook my head.

"Oh, tonight you are." Cherry's smile curled up in an evil, smug grin. "You're a good fighter, Small Fry. I've seen you and I know the talent I have here. You'd wipe the floor with them." Cherry stood up, picking up the tourniquet as well, then walked over to me. "I feel like this will even the odds."

I raised a skeptical eyebrow at her, "Yeah, when that stops my heart, it'll really level the playing field."

"These are the rules. Take it or leave it." Cherry said.

Well, in case tonight wasn't dangerous enough I guess I was adding cocaine to the mix. Quickly, to not lose my nerve, I stripped out of my hoodie and tossed it aside. Cherry smirked when I held my left arm out to her. She stepped closer and tied the tourniquet around my bicep.

"With this amount, I'd expect the high to last fifteen minutes or so." Cherry slapped the crook of my elbow a few times. "But don't worry, you'll get more between fights."

Cherry stuck the needle into my arm, but I refused to flinch at the pinch. Seconds after the plunger was pushed all the way down— I felt it. It was like there was fire in my veins, but the spot around where she stabbed me with the needle was numb. I blinked a few times as a shaky feeling began to bubble up into my gut.

"Let's get you to your first fight, Small Fry."

Cherry was laughing as she dragged me out of her office and back to where the main rings were. The loud cheering was deafening, and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. My hands trembled and Cherry shoved me toward one of the rings. Hands were touching me, but I didn't know whose. The world around me blurred for a moment before suddenly becoming crystal clear. With a racing heart, I stepped out of my sweatpants and entered the ring.

Across the ring from me was a large, bulky man. He was talking to me, laughing, but I just raised my hands and smirked. I felt good. I felt really good.

"And…FIGHT!"

[10:27 PM]

The Compound was empty, and Tony took joy in that. He wanted the solitude, craved it. As much as he loved Pepper and Rhodey, he couldn't take another worried speech from them. It was the whole reason why he decided to come out to the Compound for a few days instead of staying in his Malibu home. Then once the team left for their mission he got exactly what he wanted.

'Most of your family chose to leave you.'

His hand slipped and the screwdriver he was using jammed into the side of his hand bringing forth blood. Tony cursed and threw the tool aside to hold pressure over the gash wound. The shock of learning the truth of his parents wore off in the first 24 hours. Then, despite Pepper's arguments otherwise, he spent the next 48 hours searching for any shred of evidence he could find. It took a lot of work, most more illegal than legal, and he had to reach out to skeevy people he had left in his weapon developing past, but Tony got his hands on a security video.

Tony watched that video on repeat for hours. He kept watching even when Pepper tried to pull him away from it. He kept watching even after the whiskey blurred his vision. In fact, the only reason why he probably wasn't still sitting on his lab floor watching that video for the rest of this eternity was because Rhodey had stormed in and taken a crowbar to the house's power source leaving him in the dark.

It wasn't like it mattered. Tony could play that video in his head with vivid detail. So, in total, he spent about 120 hours mourning his parent's deaths.

His anger towards Barnes had burned a lot longer than that. It wasn't until around two weeks after learning what he did that Pepper finally got him to not fly into a rage anytime he heard that damn name. Pepper had said it had been HYDRA. Pepper said Barnes was a victim. Pepper said Barnes was a tortured prisoner of war. It ate him alive that the woman he loved would ever not side with him, but, like always, he realized Pepper was right. If you did the math accurately, that put his burning rage towards Barnes, specifically, at around 336 hours.

Three weeks out from learning the truth, in the middle of a conversation with Nick Fury of all people, he found a paper trail that led to Steve. Nick hadn't known everything. All he had known was that Steve had asked him for the file, but Nick didn't have it. One clue led to the next and Tony had come to the conclusion that Steve had known. Steve had known before him. It had only been confirmed hours earlier, and Tony still felt the ache of that betrayal. The burning rage at the audacity Captain America thought he had. The math was yet to arrive on how long he'd feel this way toward his old friend.

The easiest math to do was also the biggest number. How long had he hated himself for saying what he had to Aj? How long had he loathed every cell in his body for being the cause of her pain? How long had he regretted throwing her worst insecurity in her face knowing the damage it could do?

Every moment since he walked away from her. That was 3,024,000 seconds and counting. Pepper said she'd forgive him. Natasha had come back from brunch at one point and told him that she had defended him. That didn't change a damn thing. Aj spent most of her life being kicked around and spat on. Most of the people around her filled her head with venomous lies, and Tony had done the same.

Tony was no better than any of them.

'Most of your family chose to leave you.'

He grabbed everything he had been working on, everything sitting on the table in front of him, and threw it all to the ground with one swipe of his arms. Tony folded his hands over the back of his head and closed his eyes. He took calming breaths and tried to resist the powerful urge to pour himself a drink. He made Pepper a promise. He wouldn't drink at the Compound alone. There was an easy loophole to that though. If he flew back to Malibu right now he could drink in that lab since technically he wouldn't be alone with her upstairs.

Tony stepped over his mess and was only a step away from the lab doors when FRIDAY spoke up, "Boss, there's a security breech in the lobby."

"Then send security to deal with it." He spat out.

"I notified them, but I think you want to see this."

Tony stepped back and swiped in the air for a holographic screen to materialize in the air in front of him. The security feed was pulled up, and Tony stiffened at the sight. There was a man standing in his lobby, looking around, and he recognized the Winter Soldier with ease.

"Direct all security away from the lobby." Tony barked out and held his hand out for a gauntlet to shoot out and wrap around his lower arm. The rest of his suit was in the middle of an upgrade, but Tony didn't need more than this. He was sprinting out of the lab and toward the stairs. With every step, he felt his anger reaching a higher and higher temperature. Tony could picture himself blasting a hole in the middle of Barnes' chest and the satisfaction he got from it was probably troubling.

Tony hit the lobby, letting the door fly out and slam into the wall with a loud bang, and stormed forward. There was no point in hiding. He wanted Barnes to know that he was coming for him. For him to feel the rising terror build in his chest just like it had in his parents' when they came to the realization that the bad car crash they had experienced was more than just an accident.

When he spotted Barnes, he lifted his hand and immediately fired. The man let out a grunt and dove out of the way. Tony didn't relent. He pressed forward firing twice more and cursing when Barnes dodged both times, ducking behind lobby furniture.

"Stop! You have to stop!" Barnes yelled out from behind a lobby chair.

"Yeah, I'm sure my dad said the same thing." Tony snarled and fired at the chair. It blew a hole in the back, the rest of the material catching fire, and while Barnes rolled for more cover, Tony bent over to reach under the coffee table where he knew Natasha had hidden a gun inside a panel of it.

"Please, listen to me!"

Tony gripped the glock in his left hand. He fired the repulsor at Barnes' new hiding place, and when the man went to duck to his next Tony fired the handgun three times. He heard a grunt of pain and Tony pressed forward again. He was caught off guard when Barnes turned to face him. Tony braced for an attack, expecting a blow, but Barnes just stayed on his knees and held his hands up in surrender.

The man was a mess. Dark, greasy hair. Bags under his eyes with pale skin. Clothes that had seen better days. Tony held up both his weapons and every neuron in his brain screamed to shoot. His eyes darted to Barnes' right side where a bullet had skimmed him and blood was staining his shirt.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you right now." Tony growled. He was looking for a reason. Something to push him to the edge so he could pull the trigger because he came to the sudden realization that he couldn't do it on his own. The hands that were held up in surrender were the same ones that choked the life out of his mother. They were the same hands that beat his father to death. Tony was angry. God, he was furious. He was hurt. HYDRA took his family from him before he could tell them that he did love them. Tony had fought with his dad before he left. It was nothing new, and his dad was a fucking ass at the best of times, but Tony wanted to tell him that he loved him. Most days Howard Stark probably didn't deserve it, but Tony wanted to say it all the same. His mom had been disappointed at the fight, and when she came to hug him good-bye he had stepped back from her because he was still in a mood. Tony wanted to pull her into a hug and never let go. He wanted to tell her that he straightened out his life, found a purpose, found people he loved, found a woman he wanted to marry.

But he couldn't do that.

That had been taken away from him, ripped from his hands, and the tool HYDRA used to do it was kneeling in front of him broken and pathetic. By God, he wanted to fire his weapon. He wanted to shoot Barnes' dead in hopes that maybe it would bring him some sliver of relief. Some tiny, minute moment of peace. Maybe even hurt Steve in the process.

"Tell me why I shouldn't kill you!" Tony roared again. His hands were shaking now, and he hated it. He hated it. He hated it.

Barnes didn't break his gaze. The broken man just shook his head, "You should. You should kill me. I deserve it. I'm sorry." Tony physically felt his chest cave in as his heart ached. Barnes shook his head, "But, you gotta listen to me first. Please. Just give me a second to talk and I'll let you do it. I won't fight."

Tony's tired arms dropped, and he hung his head trying to suck in a shaky, gasping breath of air. He clenched his jaw and tried to ground himself. Pepper's voice came back to him. Comforted him. This wasn't a moment of weakness. Letting go of the rage in his chest. This was a moment of strength.

He lifted his head to make eye contact with Barnes who still looked desperate. He spat the breathless question out, "What?"

Then Bucky Barnes said the only words that could freeze the remainder of his anger and hatred. The only words that could flush those emotions out of his body and replace it with immediate fear and worry.

"It's Aj."

[10:39 PM]

I stumbled away from the ring and threw up by the stairs. My entire body was shaking violently, and it felt like my heart was trying to claw its way up my throat as well. Eight fights had come and gone, but I was still standing. Kind of. Weakly, I fell to the ground and leaned against the side of the stairs. Assess. Assess. Okay, my head hurt. My nose had been broken somewhere between fight four and five, but I had snapped it back in place shortly after. It still hurt like a bitch though. The rest of my body was an ache. An ache I was familiar with.

Right now, I was more worried about drugs in my system.

After every fight, Cherry was back with more. It was a vicious cycle. For about five minutes I would feel really, really good. Strong and confident. Then after those five minutes I'd crash hard. Shaking, nausea, and my body felt like it was on fire. 15 minutes of high, my ass.

Feet stepped into my view and I lifted my gaze to see Cherry smirking down at me. She knelt down, another syringe in her hands, "How's it going, Small Fry? You're almost at the end you know. Semi-finals."

"Fuck off." I said between clattering teeth.

Cherry laughed and pulled a hand sized mirror out of her pocket. She opened it and flipped it around for me to look into. My nose was red, I had dark bags under my eyes that blended into a variety of bruises, and my lower face was coated in dry blood from where my nose had been crushed. My pale skin made the blood look so much brighter.

"You look like shit."

"At least—At least I don't…don't look like you." I struggled to say. Cherry just grabbed my arm and I looked down sadly at the bruised skin at the crook of my elbow. She stabbed me again and I held back a gasp. When she was done, I shoved her aside and stood back up. I was almost done. I was almost done. Just two more fights. As I stumbled into the ring, I chuckled at the situation. At least I didn't have to worry about my addiction coming to light. With the drugs in me, and me feeling so sick and awful, I had zero craving to be here. It was like psychological association. Nothing like cocaine to kick a bad habit.

Kyle stepped into the ring from the other side. He looked rough, but he still had a smug smile. He winked at me and my racing heart ached. I wanted to go home. I wanted to be on the couch, wrapped up in my blanket, curled into Steve's side.

"Aw, tired? The tears are pathetic as hell." Kyle spat at me. Was I crying? My shaking hands swiped at my face and as the high began to hit me I felt more clear. Someone yelled for us to start and Kyle pulled something out of his basketball shorts' pockets. Brass knuckles. They were brass knuckles. He slid them onto his fingers, "You ready, babe?"

I reached over to my watch and activated my gloves. As the red and gold metal crawled over my skin, I watched Kyle's eyes widen comically and the crowd watching us go wild. When they were formed, I motioned toward him with my hands, "Yeah, I am. Come on."

Kyle lunged forward, and I ducked under his swing to slam my fist right into his kidney. He stumbled forward with a cry of pain and whipped around to try and grab me. I blocked his blows, taking a step back with each movement, until I was at the fence. It was a bad position to be in. He began to swing, and I had to choose what to block. I threw my hands up to shield my face and he punched me in the gut twice. He tried to throw a third, but I grabbed him around the neck, lacing my fingers together, kicked off the fence and then dropped my weight. It caught him off guard and as we hit the ground, I dug my knee into his chest to flip him over.

Kyle grunted and I rolled back up to my feet. We circled each other for a minute. He was looking for an in and I was waiting for him to move. Kyle wasn't a patient man. It was his downfall. With a cry, he lunged forward again to attack. As soon as he got close enough, I spun to the side and slammed my elbow right into the center of his face. He howled in pain and I felt his nose shatter.

He backpedaled and held his face in pain. Before I could leap at him to take advantage of the moment an alarm began to go off. I glanced around confused as the crowds that had been egging us on began to scream and scatter. Suddenly, gunfire filled the air and flashes of Romania hit me. I froze for a second, my shoulder suddenly aching in remembrance, and it was only bullets sparking off the fence around us that grounded me.

"Get down!" I barked and tackled Kyle to the ground. He grunted as more bullets rattled the fence around us. Panicked, I tried to keep myself here and not get lost in a memory.

Kyle shoved me off him with a curse and then began to military crawl across the ring to get to cover. As I laid on the mat, I began to crash. Nausea hit me and I rolled over to throw up again. I had to move. I had to move. I shakily pushed myself up and ran off the mat. People shoved around me in a blur of color and noise.

Why was I here again? What was I doing? My buzzing brain was scattered in a million places. Someone shoved into me, making me stumble forward, but it was enough to jar me back into reality. Hammerhead. Angela.

I sprinted through the crowd trying not to let the sound of gunfire make me shake even worse. Cherry sprinted out of the door I was trying to make my way to and she didn't even give me a parting glance as she hurried to get out of here. I stumbled through that same door into the hallway that only led to more. Now, all I had to do was check every single room before I passed the hell out.

[11:34 PM]

Weirdly, Bucky could remember the last time he had seriously prayed. It was one of those memories he wished he didn't have, but it was there nonetheless. He had been lying in the snow staring up at a bleak sky. Staring at the gray clouds was so much better than staring at the bright red blood gushing out where his arm used to be. Bucky remembered praying to die. He didn't understand why he survived such a fall. What was the point? He prayed and he prayed and he prayed, but the relief of death never came to him.

Maybe it was best if Bucky didn't pray for Aj to be safe.

God didn't seem to like him very much.

"—she's one of ours. Aj Bradshaw, I sent you her picture, she is your mission. Her safety is the top priority!" Stark barked into a phone. They had boarded one of the Avenger's smaller jets and took off to where he had traced Aj to be.

Bucky knew that Stark had a tracker in her bracelets, it's how that Daisy girl found them, and it had been the only piece of a plan he had when he hitched a ride away from Romania. For some reason, she was in Washington DC in a club. Based off what Bucky had heard and what Stark had looked into, the club was the front for a fighting ring.

He shifted in his seat and flinched when the wound at his side burned. All things considering, this was the best case scenario. Bucky thought for sure that Tony Stark was going to shoot him dead in that lobby. He didn't blame the man. Bucky could see the pain in his dark brown eyes.

"We're landing in ten minutes." Stark said and walked over to sit in the seat across from him. "Right outside the club. Pulled some strings and DC police are already in the ring. A firefight broke out—" Bucky's head snapped up in panic. "—I reiterated the real mission, but…we need to get there quick." He didn't bother replying and laced his fingers together as his elbows leaned on his knees. Bucky was trying to make himself look as small as possible. "Medics are on their way too. I don't know what state she'll be in after fighting. If it's anything like Russia…"

Again, Bucky didn't reply. What was there to say? He closed his eyes tightly. If anything had happened to her… That would be on him. He shouldn't have left her in the airport. If he had just gone to New York with her then Steve wouldn't have been upset and she wouldn't be on the outs with the Avengers. At the very least he would've been there for her.

"Hey." Stark snapped. Bucky glanced up and withered under the man's glare. Stark clenched his jaw and for a moment they just stared at one another. Tension hanging in the air. He finally shook his head, "I have a question, and you better pray I like your answer."

"What?" Bucky replied, his voice hoarse and quiet.

Stark leaned forward, "Why?"

Bucky wilted. He glanced down at his hands and tried to keep his voice steady, "They were a mission. A threat to HYDRA. I'm sorry. Howard was my… my friend and I—I'm sorry—"

"No." Stark snapped with a growl. "I'm not talking to you about that right now." Bucky glanced up in confusion to meet the fire in Stark's eyes. It had to be something he got from his mother because he never saw Howard with that kind of emotion or determination in him. Stark shook his head, "Why her? Why Aj?"

"W—What do you mean?" Bucky sat up.

"What is it about Aj that makes you finally pop out of hiding and come crawling to my fucking front door? Why the hell are you risking everything for her?"

Bucky's throat felt dry, "She's…special."

"Not good enough. Try again."

"I…I'm so fucked up." Bucky admitted softly and he heard Stark scoff in agreement. He closed his eyes, "Even right now…I feel—feel clear headed enough to be here… my worry about her is stronger than the evil thing that lives in my head, but…but it's never gone. It's like static—white noise. It feels like if I don't hold on tightly enough, if I lose focus for even a second, it's going to all slip away and I'll lose the sanity I have left." Bucky opened his eyes to see Stark staring at him in quiet thought. Bucky shook his head, "When I met Aj, she didn't look at me like I was the Winter Soldier. She didn't even look at me like I was Bucky Barnes…" He chuckled. "She just saw someone, like her, who was searching for solid ground to stand on." Bucky met Stark's eyes with his own. "Aj makes me feel…normal. Normal enough at least. She makes me feel like I might have a future after all. As if all this bullshit I'm putting up with in my broken head might… might be worth it down the line."

Stark nodded once, a look of mild surprise on his face, "You care about her."

"I do." Bucky admitted. "She's…She is important to me. Aj's my anchor."

There was another quiet moment between them. Bucky didn't know if he had given Stark the right answer, but the air didn't feel quite as tense anymore. He lowered his head back down to stare at the floor. Aj was his anchor for the storm in his mind, and if anything happened to her tonight…it'd be a sin worse than any others.

[11:38 PM]

My cocaine riddled brain was not doing so hot right now. There was still gunfire in the distance, and I was pushing open every door I could find in the maze of hallways back here. Why the fuck did Cherry have so many rooms?

I fell forward and my gloves took the brunt of the impact. Don't pass out. Don't pass out. Don't pass out. I pushed myself up and moved to the next door. It took a second to get my violently shaking hands to grip the doorknob. Thankfully, when I pushed the door open I was finally greeted by the sight of Angela sitting on a ratty couch with her hands tied behind her back and a gag in her mouth.

"Oh, thank God." I mumbled and hurried forward. Angela was trying to talk through the gag, but it was just muffled sounds. It's not like my brain was going to interpret anything correctly right now anyways. "I'm here to save you, but FYI I'm 10 seconds from passing out so you're gonna have to carry me out of here, Angela."

I yanked the gag out of her mouth, and the woman shook her head, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, I had to. I had to, Small Fry."

My eyes narrowed in confusion and the slamming of a door made me jump. I whipped around, off balance but ready to fight, only to hear a gun fire. I sharp gasp left my lips and I glanced down to see a hole in the left side of my abdomen. Bright blood gurgled out of it like a low pressure fountain and I fell to my knees as the pain finally slammed into me.

"I told you so, pet." With a gasp, I looked up to see Boss strolling toward me with a pistol in his gloved hands. His suit looked immaculate and his blond hair was slicked back. Sharp fear cut through me and the terror was nearly as painful as the bullet wound I was desperately holding pressure to. He walked over and knelt down in front of me with a sickening smile on his face, "What was it you said to me about leaving me on the fucking floor to bleed to death?"