a/n: So, this chapter kind of got away from me. Bucky has a mind of his own & I ended up needing to include some explainers to go with the events of the last chapter. Then it was just getting too long to continue, so I decided to make this a chapter of its own and whatever is coming next will be in chapter 9. But hey, look at it this way: y'all get two updates from me close together, so, you're welcome. ;)

Chapter 8: Sometimes, Not Knowing is Worse

Valkyrie and Barnes had made their way to one of the smaller gyms in the Compound. Barnes wanted to change out of his casual Midgardian clothing, into something that was more befitting of a workout. Valkyrie had never really understood that, since most Asgardian dress is typically battle-appropriate. As usual, the man had only laughed at that before disappearing into the changing room, promising to be back in a few minutes.

Val sighed and started loading weights onto one of the lifting machines while she waited for her companion to return. She and Barnes had run into each other at random in the gym three years earlier, at the first of the annual gatherings. They'd mostly kept to themselves that first day, but when it kept happening every day that week, they started opening up bit by bit. Finally, the last couple days, they were working out side-by-side, chatting about a little bit of everything—mostly, they learned to bond over the oddities of modern Midgardian culture.

The next year, they fell into their workout routine immediately by meeting in the gym the first morning. They worked on the same equipment, either next to each other and usually finding some stupid way to compete, or by one spotting for the other on a single machine. Now and then, they would work the punching-bag – one holding it for the other, or on rare occasions they might put on protective gear to practice hits. Val desperately wanted to challenge the man to a genuine sparring session, but the room full of equipment was not particularly conducive to fighting. So instead they just worked out, competing and teasing and chatting. It was a unique and unexpected camaraderie that Val actually found herself look forward to.

Once the weights were on the pressing machines, Valkyrie sat down on the bench, straddling it, to wait for her friend. A moment later, the door opened and Barnes walked back in. Val narrowed her eyes suspiciously. "I swear, you just take your sweet time and wait until I get done with all the heavy lifting before you come out here."

"Yup, you caught me," he replied with a coy grin.

"Knew it. You li'l shite." But Val chuckled and just shook her head affectionately. She glanced over to where Barnes was sitting at the bench-press. He didn't hesitate to lean back and start working the machine. Rather than starting in on her own workout, she swung her legs around so she was sitting on the bench facing Barnes completely, remaining alert like a good spotter just in case her assistance was needed.

Val watched as he lifted an impressive amount of weights – far more than any ordinary man could lift and, in many cases, even more than some of Asgards better warriors could manage. The Winter Soldier had changed into loose sweatpants with a muscle shirt. His long hair was dampening with sweat, sticking to his forehead. After about 15 minutes, Barnes returned the barbell to its resting position and laid back, taking slow, deep breaths.

Val stood up and stepped over to him, stretching out her hand. Barnes gave her a lopsided grin as he grabbed her wrist. "Up you go," she announced as she pulled the man into a seated position. He took a few more heavy breaths before leaning down to grab a towel and wipe his face. When he moved the towel around to the nape of his neck, dabbing at where sweat had collected under his hair, Valkyrie suddenly felt her face flush.

The Asgardian let out a soft hiss, chastising herself, and turned away quickly. She stalked across the room, shaking out her hands (which had apparently become clenched into fists – when did she do that?) and trying to calm the jittery feeling in her stomach.

Okay, so maybe it was. . . a tad lower than her stomach. More like what Chaucer would surely consider to be the nether-regions. And it probably had less to do with nerves and more to do with the fact that it had been way too long since Val had seen a truly fit man who looked like he could handle her. Then, that thought got her wondering just how well he'd be able to handle her. . .

"Hey," Barnes's voice pulled the Valkyrie from her lewd thoughts. She glanced up and saw him standing by the bench-press with a devilish smirk on his face. "You good?"

He smiled at her and she quickly scanned up and down his form. When they locked eyes again, Barnes raised a questioning eyebrow. Val shrugged. "Just admiring the merchandise," she told him without hesitation, casually walking back over by him.

Barnes laughed. "Thank you?" He reached up and pulled his hair back, tying it loosely behind his head. Val's eyes tracked the movement of the metal arm, which had always been a source of fascination for her. Quietly, Barnes asked, "Do you want to touch it?"

"'It?'" Val asked, gaping at him.

The man held his arm straight out in front of him in answer. Then, he cocked his head to the side. "Did you think I meant something else?" he asked suggestively.

Valkyrie ignored the comment, reaching out to place a hand in the bicep area of the vibranium arm. Moving against the smooth metal, Valkyrie traced her fingertips along the seam where metal met skin. There was no edging – it was completely perfect. As if he'd been born with the metal arm, like it truly was just a part of him. And he had learned to use it as such. It was commendable how the man took something that was forced upon him, intended to be a weapon and source of damage, and learned to control it, to make it work for him rather than the other way 'round. "You can't even tell," Val mumbled out loud, mostly to herself, letting her fingers dance over the nearly non-existent seam.

"Not anymore," Barnes told her, a somber tone to his voice. The Valkyrie looked up at him and nodded in understanding. Even though they had developed a companionable rapport over the last couple years, they'd always had a sort of unspoken agreement not to talk about anything too serious or painful. That definitely meant that dredging up the past was mutually off-limits.

For another moment, Val allowed her fingers to traverse the prosthetic arm, marveling at the cold of the metal in contrast to the heat of Barnes's body, as he was lightly flushed from the bit of exertion. "Wakanda fixed this up?" Valkyrie asked, tapping the man's silver shoulder before dropping her hand back to her side.

"Yeah. Well, them, and Stark and Bruce."

A minute or so ticked by in silence. Valkyrie glanced around the gym, frowning at the equipment surrounding her. She noticed Barnes watching her – silent, but ever watchful and all too aware of everything around him. Finally, he gave her a soft smirk. "Nothing striking your fancy, Brunnhilde?"

She glared at him and the use of her given name. Then, she sauntered forward a few steps, closing some of the distance between them. "Oh, I wouldn't say that." She raised her hand again, this time stair-stepping her fingers across Barnes's sculpted chest (no, really – literally made of marble).

The man inhaled softly, calmly, through his nose. It made that remarkable chest rise and fall quite deliciously. Valkyrie glanced up at the Soldier's face and saw that he was staring down at her with that intense, soulful gaze of his. There was an almost-smile playing across his mouth. Honestly, she would have thought he was unaffected by her sudden closeness and her rather promiscuous fashion of behavior. But then Valkyrie noticed how stiffly Barnes was standing, frozen with his hands firmly and safely held at his sides. She grinned deviously.

"You know," Val began, taking a step as she started walking a circle around the veteran. "I've got some contraband substances in my room. Care to join me in partaking of them?"

Barnes hesitated only a moment before licking his lips and asking, "Contraband as in what, exactly?"

"Little of this," Val said with a shrug. "Little of that," she added, finishing her circle and stopping in front of Barnes again. "Most prominently, though? I've got Asgardian mead." She beamed at him.

Barnes snorted. "Alcohol has no effect on me."

"This isn't just alcohol, Sergeant," Valkyrie told him derisively. She held her hands up, palms open and pointing skyward, as she proclaimed, "This is Asgardian mead. The literal nectar of the gods."

With that, Barnes looked at her with playful accusation. "Are you trying to get me drunk so you can take advantage of me?"

The question threw Valkyrie for an instant. And she felt that tingling in her lower region. Sounding as collected as she could, she quipped, "Is that what you'd like me to do?"

Barnes looked at her seriously for another moment, before cracking a grin. "Well, it'd be a start. But I bet we could find some other things to do, too." He finished with a wink.

"Wait," Val said with a chuckle. "Are you trying to flirt with me?"

The man threw his flesh hand over his heart, feigning injury. "Wow. You have to ask?" Barnes groaned. "Shit. Am I that rusty?"

"So you are flirting, with me?" Valkyrie asked, admittedly surprised on both counts.

Barnes scratched his temple. "Um, a little bit?" With a self-deprecating laugh, he added, "Only took you three years to finally notice."

The Valkyrie was genuinely taken aback. "Sorry?" she told him guiltily.

Barnes shrugged. "Nah, 's fine. Just, like, a minor hit to my already fragile ego. No big deal." He smiled at her.

She found herself inspecting the man again. He wasn't the type she was usually interested in – mostly, because he was a he. Of course, she'd been with men; they just weren't her preference. But when she was with a man, it was never one like Barnes. She tended to go more for big, blond, and dumb. Plus, the Valkyrie liked being in control and the soldier didn't really strike her as a submissive kind of man. After what was probably a minute too long, Valkyrie returned the smile, if looking a bit more pitying. "You're not really my, erm, well, type, ya know?"

Barnes blinked, but quickly recovered. "Okay," he said. Then, he added, "You're not really mine either."

"Hey!" Val said, shoving his fleshy shoulder. "The Hel does that mean?"

"Oh, I see," Barnes drawled. He crossed his arms over his chest, making his muscles more prominent – almost enough to make an onlooker, like Val, salivate. "So, you can say that I'm not your type and that's fine. But I say you're not mine and all hell breaks loose?"

Valkyrie sputtered a bit. "It's just that, well, I'd've thought I'm exactly your 'type,' Sergeant." When Barnes looked at her questioningly, she elaborated: "Mouthy, deadly, curves for days?"

"Point taken," he told her. "As great as those qualities are, they're still not my type."

"Just what is your type then?" Val smirked.

It almost looked as though Barnes wasn't going to answer. Then his eyes dropped to the floor and he sucked in a sharp breath. In a quiet voice, he told her, "Blond, blue-eyed guys from Brooklyn."

Valkyrie let the words sink in, processing what had just been said. Her eyes widened and she couldn't hold back a small gasp. Upon seeing the look on Barnes's face—one she didn't know he was even capable of expressing, of total vulnerability and openness—she hurriedly composed herself and smiled at him. "You never cease to amaze me," Val told her friend. He offered a half-smile at that. Then, Val sighed. "A'right. Full disclosure? I'm not looking for some romance. It's been. . ." she paused, trying to decide how much to divulge. Finally, she settled for, "Let's just say, it's been a while since I've had a good lay. And I'm in desperate need." She raised her eyebrows, leaving nothing to the imagination.

"That's. . . direct." Barnes widened his eyes, then let out a breathy chuckle.

"So, that alcohol, yeah?" Valkyrie suggested. "It's in my bedroom. What do you say we go back there and. . . don't drink it?"

Barnes looked at her carefully, his eyes intense again and brows furrowed in thought. Finally, he relaxed his face and an impish grin appeared on his handsome features. "My place is closer."

Some time later—nobody bothered to keep track of how much, exactly—the pair were in Barnes's room. Clothes were strewn around the bed. Valkyrie rolled over, collapsing on the mattress. Panting, she said, "I like this new workout regimen."

Next to her, Barnes laughed. He turned on his side and propped himself up on his elbow, resting his head on the palm of his hand. "Definitely an enjoyable way to exercise."

"I'll say," Valkyrie agreed with a sigh. She closed her eyes and relaxed her head back on Barnes's pillow. Her eyes opened again at the feeling of Barnes tracing his metal fingers up her arm. The warrior had to suppress a shudder as the Soldier moved the cold digits over her collarbone. It was a nice feeling, but a bit too intimate and tender for the Valkyrie. She sat up, pulling the sheet up around her shoulders as she did.

Barnes dropped his arm to the bed, still propped up on his side, and he regarded the Asgardian carefully. She cleared her throat, uncomfortable at the way he was reading her. "So," Val started. Letting curiosity get the better of her, she asked, "Did you ever tell 'im?"

"Huh?" Barnes asked, furrowing his brow.

"Don't be obtuse, Sergeant." Val rolled her eyes. "I mean Rogers. He's the one you described when you talked about your 'type,' right? Now, I'm no genius, but it doesn't take that many braincells to see that you were in love with him." She leaned back, resting against the headboard. "Did you ever let him know?"

Barnes blinked once. Twice. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, closing his jaw again. The silence quickly became awkward and Valkyrie put her hand over her face. "Wow," she mumbled. After moving her hand, she looked up at the ceiling with a nervous chuckle. "Guess I'm the obtuse one." Looking back down to meet Barnes's eyes, Valkyrie tried to smile in an apologetic but non-pitying way. "I know I'm a real git for asking this, but still. . ." she waited, giving the man a chance to tell her to shut up. He gave her a terse nod, permitting her to continue. Valkyrie shook her head softly as she asked, "Why?"

Surprisingly, Barnes let out a harsh laugh. "Seriously?" He gaped at his bed-mate. "You're asking me why I never told Steve that I'm in love with him?" Barnes groaned and rolled over to lay on his back rubbing his face before folding his hands together and putting them behind his head. "It was the 40s – things were very different back then."

"People don't change, Barnes," Val stated. "Times do, but people don't. You still could have said something, at least to him."

With another skeptical laugh, Barnes sat up. "Not really, no." He swung his legs over the edge of the bed and leaned down to pick up his boxers. Val blatantly ogled him, enjoying the view as the man stood and pulled his shorts on. Then he turned back around, facing her and running a hand through his hair. "Steve and I had been best friends forever. We could rely on each other, and only each other. Before he got the serum and after – he was all I had, you get that?"

There was a serious look in Barnes's eyes and a slight accent slipped into some of his words – one that Val hadn't really heard from him before but it sounded right, somehow, anyway; perhaps something from his life before becoming the Winter Soldier, before HYDRA, before the war, even. Probably something related to Brooklyn, where he and Rogers had grown up.

Barnes was at his dresser, digging through the drawers. "After I—well, after everything that happened to me, when I found Steve again, I wasn't in the right state of mind. It took a long time before my memories came back and I started to feel like myself again. And there just wasn't time for much of anything before the world went to shit." He huffed before he finally found a clean pair of jeans, quickly pulling them on.

Valkyrie took his cue and stood up, modesty be damned. She pulled on her leggings and then slipped her tunic over her head. When she turned back around, reaching up to fix her braided ponytail, Barnes was still shirtless and sitting on the edge of his bed with his head in his hands. Val frowned. Silently, she moved around the bed, sitting down next to him. She sat up straight and looked at the wall in front of her, letting out a heavy sigh.

"The Valkyrie were one of the most formidable forces in the Nine," she began slowly. "They were noble, praised and highly regarded. All looked upon them with reverence, knowing that the warriors would protect them against any foe." Somehow, talking about her sisters in a distant, third-person kind of way made it easier. Val sighed. "Once they were gone, there was no place for me. And even if Odin had wanted to rebuild the sisterhood, it would have been too painful, to see them replaced. So, I am the last of my kind. And I'm not the best representative."

Barnes had lifted his head and was looking at Val. He opened his mouth to say something, but she placed her hand on his knee to stop him. "They weren't just my people and we weren't just an army," she told him. She turned, meeting his eyes. "The Valkyrie were my whole world, my whole reason. For everything. Yeah, we were protecting Asgard and the other Realms, and we served Odin. But I didn't do it for that, not really."

"They were your family," Barnes supplied.

Val nodded. "Save for one," she said. "One was. . . more." She smiled longingly and let out a shaky breath. "She was my Steve – best friend, sister, comrade, partner." She paused, making sure Barnes was looking at her as she added, "Lover."

The information didn't seem to surprise Barnes. He just nodded and gave a sad half-smile. Valkyrie gulped. "She died with all the rest of them. Saving me, in fact." Val laughed bitterly. "I wish it had been the other way 'round. It should have been me died and her lived. She would've made better use of her life." The Asgardian shook her head, shaking the thought away, too. "Eventually, thanks to Thor and Loki and Big Green—" she smiled fondly, "I found my way home again. And it's never really been the same. There's still lots missing. Including Asgard itself. But that's beside the point. The point, Barnes, is that I realize now that I have lots of good things to look back on, too."

Barnes lifted his arms from his knees and straightened up. He glanced over to Valkyrie. Trying to change the subject, "So, are you telling me that you're gonna quit drinking?"

Val laughed. "Not a chance! I might not be quite the emotional mess I used to be but if I quit drinking, I'd lose the best excuse I've ever had." Upon seeing the quizzical look on her friend's face, Val elaborated, "Drinking is what I believe you Midgardians would call a get-out-of-jail-free card. Whenever I fuck up, I can just say, 'I'm really sorry about last night, but I was really drunk.' Then I get a little slap on the wrist and we all pretend it was a one-time thing. If I stopped drinking, what would I say?" In an exaggerated manner, she tried, "'I'm really sorry about last night. It's just that I'm mean, and loud, and bitchy. It will probably happen many more times.'"

Barnes burst out laughing. Valkyrie grinned, proud at having raised his spirits a bit. The man put an arm around Val and pulled her against his side, planting a rough, playful kiss on her cheek. "Thanks," he said, his lips still close to her skin. "I needed that."

In the next instant, Barnes was up and opening another dresser drawer, this time searching for a pair of socks. He brought them and a pair of boots back to the bed. "I'm sorry," he said, "for what happened to your girlfriend and the others. And to you." He sighed and started putting his socks on.

Val shrugged, leaning back on her elbows. "It is what it is." She poked Barnes in the thigh, making him glance at her as he was lacing up his boots. "I don't regret it, though. And I can't help noticing," she hesitated, biting her lip. "You said earlier that you couldn't tell Rogers that you're in love with him – not that you were, but that you are."

Barnes froze. He recovered quickly, though, letting his Winter Soldier training take over and hide his emotions. Valkyrie, always having trouble with limits, plowed on through, anyway. "You could still tell him, ya know?"

That cracked the veneer. "Why?" Barnes snapped. He stood and wheeled around to face the female. "What the hell good would it do? Okay, you had a great relationship and you have happy times to look back on – good for you. But she's still dead, isn't she? I never told Steve, that's the choice I made. And now," he scoffed, "now he might as well be dead because he's not fucking here." Barnes's chest heaved as he took several deep breaths after his rant. He closed his eyes and forced himself to breathe slower, trying to calm down.

Finally, in a cool and even voice, he said, "I didn't mean that, about your girlfriend. I shouldn't have thrown that in your face." He opened his eyes. His tone was softer but his eyes still had a hardness to them, warning the Valkyrie not to push him because he was still teetering on the edge.

Val stood up and reached out, placing her hands on the man's shoulders in a supportive manner. "I'm kind of an idiot who doesn't know when to shut up," she admitted.

Barnes looked up with a sigh before dropping his eyes down to the warrior. "I'm not used to people calling my bullshit." He gave her a lazy smile. "There were plenty of times I could've told Steve how I felt, and it's not that I didn't think about it. But I knew my friend, which means I knew that he didn't, that he couldn't feel the same way about me."

"You were afraid of losing him and figured it was better to have him as a friend than not at all," Val assessed. When Barnes nodded, Valkyrie pushed up to make up for the height difference and pressed a chaste kiss to the man's lips. "You're not bad, Barnes."

He smiled at her as she settled back down onto her feet. "You know," he said, letting his carefully constructed mask of control slip back into place. "My friends call me Bucky."

Val beamed at him. "And what about friends you fuck?"

"And people used to accuse me of being vulgar," he mused. Then, he said, "But to answer your question? Still Bucky." He leaned forward to whisper in Val's ear, "They just tend to say it multiple times. Sometimes, they scream it."

Valkyrie threw her head back and cackled. "Oh, we'll see about that, Bucky."

Before either of them could say anything else, a chime rang out from the ceiling. "Forgive the intrusion, Bucky," FRIDAY announced. "Director Fury and the others request your presence in the lobby immediately."

Barnes—Bucky, rolled his eyes. "Okay, FRI, thanks. I'll be right there." He looked to Valkyrie and shrugged. "Duty calls." He slid open his closet, grabbed a t-shirt, and pulled it on. "Shall we?"

Val snorted and placed her hands on her hips. "Oh, I'm coming with you, am I?"

"Yup," Bucky decided. He marched forward and looped his arm around Val's, spinning her around and leading her out of the apartment.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

The landing gear of the Quinjet came down with several whirrs and clicks of machinery. It touched down and bumped along the pavement unevenly before finally smoothly settling onto the ground and taxiing to the hangar. Nebula hoisted the blacked out Nathaniel over her shoulder and exited the jet without a word, with Scott hurrying behind her.

Wanda grabbed Carol's wrist and stopped before she descended the ramp. "I'm confused," the Sokovian stated.

Carol sighed and sat down on the bench. She patted the spot next to her for Wanda to sit. Once both were seated, Carol leaned her head back against the cool metal of the body of the jet.

"When Fury radioed, he was. . . well, not happy." She sighed again, dropping her elbows down on her knees and hanging her head. "Fury and the others don't know what the kid told us on the roof. But apparently, Strange looked into the future and basically saw the shit hitting the fan in a major way."

Wanda frowned and scrunched her face in confusion. "But, isn't that what Nathaniel told us? I don't get how that makes him the enemy?"

Carol glanced toward the door of the jet before looking back to Wanda. "Look, Fury is paranoid enough to begin with, and now he's probably wanting to play it extra safe." The blonde stood up and rubbed her palms on her cargo pants. "The world already ended once. It happened because we weren't ready. And because we underestimated our opponent." She looked at Wanda pointedly, driving home the moral of the story for why everyone might be a bit more on edge than they would have in the past.

Wanda nodded in agreement before frowning again. "But doesn't that make Nathaniel a good guy? Or at least on our side? I mean, if he came here to warn us—"

"Yeah, if he came to warn us," Carol interrupted.

Wanda stood up and straightened out her jacket, chewing the inside of her cheek as she thought. It seemed that the others, or at least Fury, didn't trust Nathaniel – which, okay, maybe they should proceed with caution and not instantly trust him. But there was still the fact that he came to them with this information. He had, as they had thought, purposely caught their attention and let them find him, so that he could give them this warning. Wasn't that worth something?

Wanda suddenly realized that Carol was moving toward the exit, apparently thinking their talk was done. The Sokovian stepped up beside her to go down the ramp, but continued their conversation as they stepped off of the jet together. "To hear what Nathaniel told us on the roof, will that make the others feel better?"

A gust of wind picked up, blowing Carol's hair over her face. She brushed it back, spluttering to get strands out of her mouth. Finally, she groaned and jerked her head, indicating for them to walk with the wind at their backs. Scott and Nebula were nowhere to be seen, apparently having gone inside already.

"The kid appears helpful and with good intentions. But," her eyes flicked over to her companion as she frowned. "You gotta admit that showing up out of nowhere, claiming to be from another reality, as a harbinger of doom and destruction isn't exactly the most comforting thing."

They reached the front doors of the Compound and Carol paused with her hand on the door handle. "Listen," she said, looking at Wanda intensely. "Loki just showed up back from the dead. And yeah, people are vouching for him and so far, he seems to be on the up-and-up. But we still need to be careful, right?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Well, Nathaniel doesn't have anyone to vouch for him. And we don't know his history – which, in some ways, is more dangerous. I mean, at least people know what Loki is capable of, and why he did the things he did. With this kid, though? We're going in blind. And the fact that right after we find him, the Sorcerer Supreme has a vision of the exact thing this kid just told us he's trying to prevent? The timing is a little suspect."

Carol looked in the glass door, nodding to the group that was waiting for them. She released the door handle to hold up a finger towards them, signaling that they'd be just another minute. Quietly, she told Wanda, "I don't want the kid to be right, but if he is then I don't want him to be a bad guy, either. Just because I want it doesn't make it true, though."

Nodding thoughtfully, Wanda said, "Sometimes, wanting to trust someone is what's the most dangerous."

"Right," Carol agreed. "So, we're all playing it safe, until we know for sure that what Nathaniel told us – and all that he has yet to tell us – is legit. And that he has nothing to do with it."

Wanda exhaled tiredly before shrugging and pulling the door open herself, waving Carol in ahead of her. The blonde smiled and walked in, heading straight for the group, which included Pepper, Rhodes, Bruce, Sam, Dr. Strange, Fury, and Hill. Wanda approached with Carol, noticing that even though Scott and Nebula were also there, Nathaniel was gone.

"Where's Nathaniel?" she asked Scott when she stopped next to him.

"Basement," Fury answered from a few feet away.

Wanda snapped her head in his direction. "I didn't know we had a basement. What's down there?" she cocked her head to the side, curiously but with a gnawing suspicion that she might not like the answer.

"It's the dungeon," Valkyrie's voice called. Wanda spun around to see the Asgardian coming toward her across the lobby, with Bucky right behind her.

"We do not have a dungeon," Pepper said, in her most chastising mom-voice.

The Valkyrie shrugged and waved her hand dismissively. "Fine, fine. For the sake of modernity: It's a prison."

Sam groaned. "There's no dungeon and there's no prison! We just have a few holding cells downstairs – they were put in ages ago, as part of a contingency plan."

"I didn't know they were there, either," Scott said, leaning closer to Wanda.

"Because we've never needed them," Pepper explained.

Turning her attention to Dr. Strange, Wanda tucked her hands into the pockets of her long burgundy coat. "What makes you think we need the cells now?" she asked the surgeon.

Strange had a carefully placed neutral expression. "I can't divulge much," he stated, as a disclaimer.

Carol rolled her eyes dismissively. "Yeah, yeah. You can't reveal too much about the future, under penalty of pain, death, plagues and the unraveling of space-time, yadda yadda. We know." She looked at the man seriously now. "So, what can you tell us?"

Strange ran a hand over his face and back through his hair, looking exhausted and somewhat distraught. "There's a threat coming, and it's massive." He paused, taking in a sharp breath before saying, "If the being responsible succeeds, there will be nothing left."

Silence settled over the group. Wanda broke it, "And what does the boy have to do with that?"

"Because," Strange began, "he was there."

"Well, if he's here to warn us and fight with us then that's not so weird, is it?" Carol reasoned.

Pepper nodded along, saying, "That's what I said!"

Strange ruffled his hair. "But the—it's just—" he groaned in frustration. "It's not that simple. I wish it would be, but it's not. And even I don't completely understand it and I can't totally explain it. I don't fully know how I know, but I—ugh, just trust me when I say that if that kid is here, it does not bode well for us." When he finally ran out of steam, Strange closed his eyes and let out a long exhale.

Bruce raised a tentative hand. "So, if I'm understanding this right – the future with the monster that's gonna try to kill us will happen because the kid's here?"

"That," Strange began tightly, "is the impression that I get, yes."

"Well. That blows." Scott scuffed his foot on the floor.

"Yes, it most definitely does 'blow,'" Fury repeated with a stern look.

Wanda opened her mouth to speak, but stopped herself. She noticed Strange watching her and he cocked his eyebrow but she just looked away, shrinking back and making herself small so no one else would pay attention to her.

Rhodey stepped forward and clapped his hands, rubbing them together in front of him. "So, here's the plan: We keep the kid in the cell downstairs until we know more. We'll take turns on sentry-duty, and we'll see about getting him to talk."

"Sentries, really?" Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow.

"If he's not actually alone, somebody might break him out," Sam suggested.

"Plus," Rhodey added, "we don't actually know what this guy is capable of. I mean, he says he uses Tony's tech, but we can't be positive that's the only thing he uses."

Those words prompted Nebula, who clicked her tongue and reached in her pocket. She stepped over to Bruce, holding out her hand. "Here," she ordered. The physicist held his hand out, palm up, and Nebula dropped the items from her hand into his.

"What's all this?" Bruce asked, picking up the ear-piece that Nebula had confiscated from Nathaniel. He held the smaller gadget in one hand, pulling his palm up to his face to inspect the wrist-bands that served as Nathaniel's gauntlets.

"They're from the kid. Find out everything you can about them," Nebula told him.

Bruce nodded, then looked up to make eye contact. "Do you wanna help me?" he asked quietly. Nebula appeared to consider it, and him, for a moment before giving a curt nod. As Bruce turned to Sam, he was already being waved away.

"Go, go, go," Sam said, dismissing him and Nebula. They both left, heading for Bruce's lab. Sam turned back to the group, rubbing his hand over his face. A tic that was sweeping through the whole group, it would seem. "Okay, Clint is keeping an eye on the kid right now – he should be fine on his own since the guy's unconscious. But after that, we should probably try to have teams of two down there, yeah?"

Everyone nodded and mumbled some form of agreement. Sam had become something of a worry-wart, insisting everything be done on the buddy system. It actually ended up proving valuable most of the time, though, so nobody really minded.

Fury sighed. "Take four hour shifts watching. Find volunteers and figure out your own rotation," he ordered. "I gotta go make some calls – see what more we can figure out."

Hill chimed in with her agreement, "We need all the help we can get."

"Got that right," Fury grumbled. He started to walk away, pulling his phone out. Then he turned back to the group. "We're out of our depth with all this multiverse shit. Last time someone claimed to be from a different Earth, he turned out to be a murdering psychopath. So, just keep that in mind."

The tone of the group sobered as they watched Fury walk away with Hill in tow, both of them already putting their phones to their ears. Wanda frowned, filled with a sense of regret. Of course, Fury was referring to Quentin Beck, aka Mysterio, and the trouble he caused in Europe. Trouble that Peter Parker was left to handle by himself, because the other Avengers were too busy or too caught up in their own shit to remember they had a responsibility to uphold.

Peter managed to subdue Beck on his own, only to have the mad-man leave behind incriminating 'evidence' painting Peter as the bad guy while also revealing his identity to the world. As soon as that happened, the Avengers burst into action – realizing their mistake in staying silent too long. It took a lot of doing, but they managed to retract Beck's lies, proving him to be the criminal mastermind he was and showing how it was only because of Peter Parker that he'd been stopped.

Walking back the identity reveal was a harder task – but they used fact that Mysterio had been a farce, his "monsters" nothing more than illusions, to their advantage. Ultimately, the world was convinced that it was a combination of Spider-Man and Peter Parker who saved the day and stopped Beck, but that the two were still totally separate entities and Beck only thought they were the same. It took some finagling, but it worked. Peter had, understandably, remained anxious about it.

Wanda still felt guilty about the whole thing. That had been right after the Battle for Earth, when she was grief-stricken and numb. She had left, needing to be on her own for a while. It was during that time that Wanda sought out all kinds of ways to bring Vision back, even exploring options to undo what Tony and the others had done, to try and go back to when the whole thing started and prevent it right then. But it was to no avail and Wanda had returned—still heartbroken and with her tail between her legs—to the Avengers.

Although they understood and made a place for her, she still struggled. Finding out about what had happened to Peter while she was away, how even the others had jumped back into the fray to help him when he needed it but that she wasn't even able to be located? That made it all sting a bit more. Wanda knew that nobody blamed her, least of all Peter. But she put enough blame on herself for all of them and was still trying to find a way to make it up to him. To all of them.

"Hey, guys?" Rhodey piped up. "Should we keep this to ourselves, for now?"

Pepper pursed her lips but nodded. "We'll come up with an announcement at the meal this evening, to keep everybody abreast of the basics. But don't say anything until we have an official statement," she said, falling into her CEO persona.

With that, Sam waved his hand in the air, dismissing the group. "All right. Pep and I will come up with a schedule for guard-duty. If you guys want a specific buddy, let us know, I guess?" Everyone nodded and started to disperse. "Oh, and Carol? Can you maybe debrief us on what you learned from the kid?" Sam asked. Carol inclined her head and followed after Sam and Pepper.

With the meeting adjourned, Wanda stepped forward. Instantly, she bumped into the solid body of Dr. Strange, who had moved directly in front of her. He grabbed her by shoulders to steady her. "You okay?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm good," she assured the doctor, smiling at him. She moved to go around him, but he held her by the shoulders, keeping her from leaving. "Did you. . . need something, Doctor?" Wanda asked uncertainly.

Strange gave her a knowing look. "Something struck a cord with you. What do you know?"

Wanda hesitated, biting her lip. Then, she sighed. "I might have remembered something that was said, but I'm not certain it means anything." She looked up into the Sorcerer's gray eyes with purpose. "If I tell you, will you give me a chance to test my theory before mentioning it to anyone else?"

Strange twisted his mouth in thought before bowing his head once. "As long as keeping quiet won't put anyone in immediate danger, you can test your theory. And if I can help you prove it, I will."

Wanda smiled at him, then jerked her head to the side. They moved away from the center of the lobby, sitting down in a couple of the armchairs. Once Wanda looked back to make sure everyone had gone or was out of ear-shot, she leaned forward. "Nathaniel talked about the Multiverse and told us about the different versions of Earth he's encountered."

Strange was bobbing his head as she spoke, acknowledging that he understood. So Wanda continued, "He was surprised by many of the events and facts here, in this Earth. Apparently, he has access to an AI that he said Tony made for him – he calls it JOCASTA."

"The ear-piece that Nebula gave to Dr. Banner?" Strange assumed.

"Yes," Wanda confirmed. "Well, he was wondering why none of us know him yet, when he claims to know all of us in these different realities."

"Did he have a reason?"

"JOCASTA did, it seems," Wanda explained. "Nathaniel said that the AI told him it's because he doesn't exist in this Earth." She inhaled sharply before pointing out the information that had struck her as potentially damning: "The future you saw, with this threat coming. You think we're in it, and you said you think it's because Nathaniel is here. . ."

Strange gazed at the woman for a moment, a pensive look on his face. Suddenly, his eyes widened as he understood what Wanda was saying. He leaned forward so they were even closer and spoke in a harsh whisper. "If him coming here put us on the trajectory toward that future, but he doesn't exist here, that means—"

"It might mean," Wanda corrected.

Strange inclined his head in acquiescence. "Then it might mean that he's more closely connected to this monster than he let on."

Wanda leaned back in the chair. She frowned, picking at her fingernails nervously. "See why I want to find a way to prove that before I tell the others?"

The doctor sighed heavily, with a sympathetic look that showed he understood. "There's definitely something there, but you're right: it's a thread that shouldn't be tugged too hastily, for fear of unraveling the whole sweater."

Wanda couldn't help but feel like the metaphor was accurate. She stood up, tugging her jacket tighter around her out of nerves. "So, what do we do?"

Strange stood as well, his Cloak whipping animatedly behind him. "If you're really onto something, it means that whatever he came to warn us about is going to happen as a result of him coming to warn us – and we need to know why. I think we should try to get it straight from the horse's mouth."

Wanda started to smile but then stopped. "That. . . could be a problem."

"Why? You don't think he'll talk?"

"He might talk," Wanda conceded. "Just, not to me."

Strange tilted his head to the side, expectantly. Wanda sighed. "Where he's from, I am not exactly myself." When Strange still looked confused, Wanda let out a groan. "He might hate me." She pinched her fingers together in front of her for emphasis as she said, "Just a little."

"That's problematic," Dr. Strange stated with consternation.

"But maybe he'll talk to you!" Wanda suggested. "Or someone else that we can trust? Or maybe you can use magic, to find out more information?"

Strange wrinkled his nose. "I'll see what I can come up with," he finally told her.

"Should I ask Sam if you and I can be on guard-duty together?" Wanda asked. She couldn't help feeling relieved when Strange agreed. "I'll have FRIDAY give him the message. And I'll brainstorm."

"Fine," Strange said with a nod.

"Thank you, Dr. Strange." Wanda grasped the man's hand and squeezed, looking up at him with sincerity.

Strange smiled tightly, but genuinely. "Let's just see if we can stop another apocalyptic disaster from happening. Thank me afterward."

Wanda chuckled, but knew all too well the truth of his words. "I'll see you at supper," she told him as she turned and walked away, heading for her apartment.

When she got there, she immediately went to the dresser in her room and pulled open the top drawer. The drawer was quite sparse, with only a few knick-knacks. She pulled out a small wooden box. It was hand-crafted, and had been a gift to her – a welcoming present for her room in Stark Tower, back when she'd first joined the Avengers right after Ultron. Wanda smiled at the memory, thinking of how absolutely nervous Vision had been when he'd given her the box, and the charm necklace inside.

'Maybe having something that's yours will help to make you feel more at home,' Vision had told her at the time.

Wanda clutched the box to her chest and retreated from the dresser, falling backward onto her bed. She closed her eyes, running her fingers along the intricate designs carved into the wooden box.

"Nothing feels like home without you, Viz," she whispered. She set the box on the mattress beside her and curled up into a tight ball. "So now what do I do?"

In response, there was only silence.

*!MCU!*!MCU!*!MCU!*

a/n 2: Sooooooooooo Idk how the rest of you feel about the whole Bucky/Val dynamic but it was something that wouldn't quit scratching at my skull & I just had to go with it – I actually kinda like it. Not sure if it will 'reoccur' or how often, but it's there, so take it with a grain of salt :)

Chapter 9 will, hopefully, be up – well, I'm not gonna say soon, but in not too long, mmkay? As always, leave me love – it makes me smile.
xoxo, Doc