The stitches went smoothly. Being unconscious, Bucky made the procedure as easy as it could've been. His breathing was laboured but stable, some colour had at least returned to his face.

Having finished up patching the wound with a clean dressing, Sam sat back against the foot of the couch, pulling his gloves off in the process he turned them inside out, tossing them on the side table with the rest of the either used, or remaining supplies.

Having removed his damaged hardware from his back, the retracted falcon wings rested on the kitchen counter. The lights had been switched on, sun having only recently set. The red of his suit standing out in the darker environment.

"I haven't had to do that in a while." Sam took the last swig of the scotch Zemo had given him.

"Let's hope, you don't have to do it again anytime soon." Zemo sauntered over to the couch, sitting down fresh beverage in his hand, Sam on the floor by his feet.

"You said before that super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist." Sam rested his arm on his knee, hand around the top of the empty glass. "You never answered my question. If that's how you feel, what about Bucky?"

The question hung in the air.

"James is a conundrum, that I haven't yet been able to come to a conclusion on." Zemo eventually responded.

"What do you mean?" Sam looked over his shoulder at Zemo, who was swirling the scotch around in his glass. He took a sip before replying.

"He was never given the choice."

Sam wasn't sure what he expected Zemo to say, but it wasn't that.

"You killed the rest of the super soldiers from the Winter Soldier program. You killed Nagel for just recreating the serum, you straight up shot the man." Sam stated.

"All men and woman who made a choice, who sought power over others." Zemo continued to at least display a calm demeanour. "James was crafted as a weapon for HYDRA. A puppet on strings."

"You had no issue pulling on them strings back in Berlin." Sam hadn't forgotten their past. Everything that had happened all of them years ago, feeling like a lifetime.

"A means to an end." Zemo leant forward putting his glass down on the coffee table.

"But even after Siberia, it wasn't the end, was it? Bucky was still alive." Sam contradicted.
"Touché." He adjusted the cuffs of his jumper, making them rest on his wrists just right.

"So, he's an exception to your mission?" Sam was curious. Zemo was smart, everything he did was calculated and final, for him to question his own mission was a first. A first for Sam to see at least.

"As I said. James is a dilemma I have yet to solve."

"I think your moral compass is a bit screwed because you can see that deep down, he's a good man."

"But was the Winter Soldier a good man?" Zemo offered back, turning the table on Sam.

Sam put his empty glass next to Zemo's.

"Your wrong about Karli. There has to be a peaceful way to stop her."

"Eventually you will have to make the choice. You or her."

Sam got up, standing over Bucky, back to Zemo.

"It won't come to that."

"Things are escalating out of your control. How long do you expect to be able to hold onto the reins?"

"For as long as it takes." Sam confidently replied. No second thought in his answer.

He took up a small pillow, positioning it beneath Bucky's head against the backrest of the couch. The man was still slouched on his side to avoid his exit wound. Arms out in front of himself, lazily crossed.

"I respect your conviction." Zemo gently bobbed his head. "But the choice will come." He told him, resting his elbow on the couch armrest.

"How long do you think it will take for the Wakandans to find you." Sam faced Zemo. He had crossed one leg over the other, making himself quite at home.

"I have no doubt they are already on their way." Zemo shrugged casually, not appearing overly concerned. "I knew it wouldn't have taken them long to discover my ruse."

"So why are you still here?"

"Because I have faith." Zemo cryptically replied.

"I don't know how much you saw earlier before you dipped. But we got our ass handed to us." Sam gestured between himself and Bucky.

"I saw enough." Zemo tilted his head briefly, recalling the memory.

"If you haven't noticed already. Bucky isn't really in a talkative mood right now." Sam again motioned to the unconscious man. "What do you think I can say, or do, to stop them dragging you out of here?"

"Contradictory to your belief. I cannot see the future."

Sam sat back down, a sense of defeat in the way he threw himself onto the couch cushion.

"They wouldn't even listen to him." Sam sighed. "They disarmed him. Literally." Sam rubbed his chin, hand slapping down into his lap. "Did you see that?" He asked sarcastically.

"No." Zemo leant forward again, taking his drink back in hand.

"Didn't think so."

Bucky felt stiff all over, as if a force were pushing down on him, gravity even pulling more than usual.

Part of him didn't want to wake up. The closer he got to consciousness the more unappealing it became.

Though he had resentment for his growing awareness, there was little choice in the matter. Flickering his eyes open he began to take in his surroundings, human curiosity wanting to deduce the current state of affairs.

"Rise and shine sleeping beauty." Sam jeered somewhere nearby.

Sam had heard the shifting movements of Bucky, the adjustment of his breathing as he was coming round more recognisable due to the laboured inhales.

Bucky's memory was patchy, taking him time to establish how he had got to where he was.

Finding placement for his hands on the couch cushion he pushed himself up, the pillow behind his head tumbled from its placement. Groaning with a clenched jaw Bucky got himself sitting upright, his hand found his side instinctively, the area irradiating pain.

His fingers brushed over the dry blood on his t-shirt. Looking down he could see something white through the tears in the black fabric.

"Welcome back." Bucky looked up to find Zemo raising a glass to him on the other side of the couch.

"Here." Sam came into view, offering Bucky a cup of water.

"Thanks." He croaked, not expecting his voice to be so rough. He took the much-needed gulp of water. "What did I miss?" Bucky then asked, wanting to fill in his missing time.

"Other than dragging you back here and patching you up. Not much." Bucky pressed his lips together giving a very slight nod of acknowledgement. "You're welcome by the way." Sam sat down next to Bucky, jogging the man, making him find a more comfortable position.

"Now we are all present, a plan of action would be our best delegation." Zemo proposed.

"What were you thinking?" Sam asked, wanting the man's input for once.

"Karli will retreat, go into hiding while she licks her wounds. Much like we have." Zemo coincidentally looked at Bucky.

"After what Walker did, that display out there…" Bucky paused, taking a moment to look down at his lap, glass in hand, remembering all to vividly the bloody scene. "She won't back down now."

Sam knew what Bucky was getting at, where the conversation was heading.

"She's just a kid." Sam couldn't fathom, how his two companions kept glossing over that fact.

"Who's killed her fair share." Zemo pointed out.

"Don't make me list off your wrong doings Zemo."

"More people are gonna die Sam." Bucky wasn't backing Zemo, just addressing a point that needed to be covered.

"The end doesn't justify the means." Sam stood, not able to sit any longer. He paced slightly before turning to Bucky. "Steve never gave up on you." He suddenly interjected.

"That's got nothing to do with this." Bucky leant forward. He held his side, putting the glass down, trying to conceal his failed attempt to stand.

"I once told Steve that you were no longer a guy that you save. That you were the kind you stop."

Bucky didn't say anything, he wasn't sure if he even knew what to say. "Do you know what he said?" Sam asked, already knowing the answer.

"No." Bucky replied expectedly, stare like stone.

"I don't know if I can do that." Sam quoted. "That's what he said to me."

Zemo sat quietly, observing.

"If he got through to you, why can't we get through to Karli?"

"Karli isn't brainwashed." Zemo pointed out the obvious variable.

"Zip it." Sam pointed at the man, making him raise his hands sarcastically in surrender.

Bucky finally got himself up, having to use the arm of the couch in the process.

"You stuck your neck out for me, back then and even now." Bucky let his hand fall from his wounds. "Whatever you feel needs to be done. I've got your back." Bucky put a hand on Sam's shoulder. "I trust you."

Sam took a deep breath, looking around the room before making eye contact.

"I was wrong about you. What if I'm wrong about Karli." Sam confided, having been troubled for a while by his insecurities.

"Then we'll deal with it together." Bucky took his hand back with the hint of a smile.

"First. You will have to deal with me." The strong accent of a warrior stood out in the space.

Sam and Bucky's eyes snapped over to the door.

Ayo stood in the grand doorway, silver spear in hand.

"Please. Can we just talk." Bucky was the first to speak, the Wakandan dialect slipping of his tongue with ease even through his stuttered wheezing.

"The time for talking is over White Wolf." Ayo continued to speak in Wakandan. Eyes like knifes. "I gave you eight hours. But still, you protect him."

Sam looked to Bucky for some sign, an indication of the state of the situation. No one moved, no steps taken anywhere.

"We need his help." Bucky gave the same answer as from their first encounter in Riga. His reasoning having not changed.

"Don't stand in my way again." Ayo warned, a threat of action. Her native language making her words stand strong.

"I take it, this isn't going well." Sam gathered, the tense atmosphere only getting worse.

Authors Notes

just wanted to thank everyone for the support on this story! Lots of talking in this chapter, that's why this chapter took a bit longer than the rest to be uploaded, hope that's ok :P