They sit there, quiet. The only sound is the clock ticking in the background and it's a sick sort of irony that they're running out of time.
They plan to tell Bucky first.
They all walk up to the common room, and are surprised to find Steve, making food and singing quietly, more humming as he moves back and forth. He looks up and smiles at them, a genuine and excited smile.
"So am I good to go? Did the doc clear me?" Steve asks, cleaning his hands in the sink.
"Yeah, Steve." Bruce half whispers, "he cleared you."
"Good. And don't worry guys, I'll be fine. I'll be back before you even notice I'm gone."
Natasha's head whips towards Steve, "Wait, you know it's a solo mission?"
Bucky blanches at her words as Steve speaks.
"Yeah the doc told me so he could see how I felt about going alone."
"No." Bucky says sharply. "Absolutely not."
Steve turns to Bucky, hurt on his face. "Why?"
"You're not ready."
Steve pulls back, "the doctor came to speak to me, he cleared me. He says I'm ready. And I am. What else do you want?"
"I want Zemo's head on ice." Bucky says, his voice like flint.
Steve's face turns serious, stern. "Buck. He's a bad guy. I understand that. But he should be behind bars. Paying for his crimes, not killed."
It's just another one of those sickening moments where no one has anything to say.
Because there's not a single one of them who plans to leave Zemo alive.
And the worst part is that even if he did know that Zemo had left him to rot at the bottom of the ocean. Steve would still say the same thing.
"No." Bucky says, unrelenting. "He dies."
Deep concern etches itself across Steve's face. He looks at each of them, their rigid body language, their closed off faces. "No." Steve breathes out. "He doesn't. We capture him and he goes to prison."
Bucky's face turns red, his voice raising as he turns to face Steve head on. "No! You don't get to make this decision! You don't even remember! You don't know what he did to you!"
Natasha hears Steve's voice change. Something deep and unbridled in it. "I don't know because you won't tell me. You, my team, are keeping secrets from me. And I've stood by for weeks, letting you take your time. But now you want to keep me from doing my job—" he stops, his face shifting. "To me?" It hits him what Bucky had just said. "You want to kill him because of something he did to me?" His voice takes on the Captain's tone they know so well. "That's unacceptable. I'm fine. And I won't have you killing anyone on my behalf. Now. I'm going on this mission tomorrow whether you all want me to or not. Natasha, let me know when the briefing packet comes through."
He's gone, out the door, a furious and silent Bucky staring at his back.
"He's not going alone." Tony says, speaking quietly.
"Ross—" Bruce starts.
"I don't care what Ross says. He's not."
Bucky's voice is a whisper, but it's so sharp that they hear every word. "Zemo. Dies." His eyes flick up, staring them down and daring anyone of them to argue with him.
They don't.
—-
It's decided that when Steve leaves, that they will track his location and follow him at a distance.
"I'm not taking any chances for things to go wrong." Tony says, his eyes on the screen, "the shield and all his suits have new and indestructible trackers. Wherever he is, we will be."
Bucky stands next to him, hands pulled behind his back, and eyes laser focused on the screen.
"And if Ross finds out?" Bruce asks.
Natasha, who sits on the small couch, her widow bites twirling in her fingers, speaks but keeps her eyes on the far wall, "he won't find out. But as long as we don't interfere or hurt the mission, it shouldn't matter."
"What did Steve say when you handed him the briefing packet?"
"He just thanked me. All Captain America style."
"He's mad at us, which is weird because I've seen Cap mad at people and it usually ends in a fistfight. But the quiet disappointment… like he's our dad." Tony shudders. "I don't like it."
"How did we go from happy carefree Steve singing in the shower, to alienating him?" Natasha mutters.
"He doesn't like being kept out of the loop." Bucky says flatly. "He was always like this. He missed out on so much as a kid that he hated being left out or left behind. He knows what we're keeping from him is big and while he'll never force us… he's upset that we're not sharing."
"And why aren't we sharing?" They look up at Clint who walks into the lab with his bow at his side. "We need to figure something out because watching an angry Captain America on the obstacle course in the gym is terrifying. I know we don't want to do it. But he deserves the truth, right?" He points at Bucky. "You said so yourself that Steve would want to know. So, what are we waiting for?"
"Just what, all at once?" Tony says with an affronted face, "you think Mr. Sunshine's going to still be our little ray of patriotic joy when we show him dying of every freaking disease known to man? Or being beaten or almost drowned? Or HELL, Almost—" he stops, pinching the bridge of his nose.
Natasha's voice is quiet, "maybe we've been waiting because we don't want to go though it again."
Their lack of response is answer enough.
—-
They decide that when they've all returned from the mission, they'll sit Steve down and go through every memory.
"Do you think any of his happiness from these past few weeks will stay?" Bruce wonders, a bit of hopefulness in his voice.
"We can only hope." Natasha answers.
—
Steve wakes up early for his mission. Bucky hears him singing in the shower, and has to stop himself from barricading Steve's door.
Steve makes enough breakfast for everyone, and even though he was upset at them yesterday, he seems to be making extra effort to make amends. Being extra chipper and trying to make them laugh with outdated references that really only Bukcy understands, and he's having a hard time laughing.
Helicopter inbound. 5 minutes.
Steve smiles, "Gotta go." He stands up and takes the elevator down. They assume he's going to grab his gear.
The helicopter lands exactly at 8am. Ross steps out and crosses his arms, waiting. They stand behind the glass windows. He's watching them. They're watching him.
"When was the last time Ross came to transport one of us for a mission?" Clint asks, his eyes on Natasha.
"Never that I can remember." She states. "But he knows something's up. He didn't buy the Steve prank thing and we've all been acting like cats dropped in a bathtub so of course he's suspicious." Her nose wrinkles and her eyes narrow, pinning Ross in her gaze. "And there's no one more paranoid than government officials."
The door leading out to the helicopter pad opens and Steve steps out, walking with purpose towards the copter.
"Tony." "STARK." "Um, Tony?"
Are all chorused in unison as they're eyes follow Steve, in civilian clothes, no duffel bag or supplies, or his shield. He approaches the helipad.
"What?"
He's not in uniform.
"He's not wearing his uniform!" Bucky rasps, backing up from the window and spinning around, taking off towards the stairs.
"He's WHAT?" Tony shouts, standing up from his spot at the counter and practically plastering himself against the window to look. "SHIT." He shouts, racing after Barnes and booking it down the stairwell.
"What do we do?" Clint asks, his eyes watching Steve step into the helicopter and begin strapping himself in.
Natasha for a split second considers shattering the glass to at least try to get his attention or stop the helicopter or something. What can we do? Is the question in her mind. The blades fire up and they're off the ground. Natasha sees the door burst open, Bucky racing out and waving his arms like a mad man for the copter to stop.
But he's ignored.
The helicopter disappears into the distance and Natasha watches as Barnes hits his knees to the ground. Fists clenched in his hair and shoulders rigid.
A suit of armor goes flying past him, racing after the helicopter, and disappearing.
—-
7 hours later a voice crackles over the loudspeakers in the common room.
"Anyone there?"
Natasha grabs a pillow and throws it at a sleeping Clint, waking him. "We're here." She responds.
"Um.." Tony starts. "It's not good."
The air turns to ice. "What do you mean—"
"No!" He says quickly, his voice garbled by something. "No, Steve's fine, or I assume he is-was- I— I uh, lost track of them."
"What! How?"
"Ross wasn't kidding when he meant stealth. I was able to keep up through three plane changes, but I don't know if Ross felt paranoid or if it was already part of the plan, but one chopper landed and three jets took off. I'd been staying at a distance and didn't know I needed to be close to see which one he was getting into."
"What about thermal—" Bruce starts but Tony's sigh cuts him off.
"I tried that too, but there were no temperature variants that stood out in any of the three. Either they have the heat turned high to mask his elevated temperature. Or they have him wrapped in something cold to bring it down. The one I followed landed a few hours later and I watched it empty. No Steve."
—
Helicopter Inbound. 3 Minutes.
The message pops up and has the group running outside. They stare at the sky, willing the copter to appear. After a minute Bucky can hear the whump whump whump of the rotating blades. He steps forward. It's been less than a day since Steve left, but every second has been agony, wondering and waiting and helpless.
It appears and lands. Ross steps out first, eyeing them with a curious eyebrow.
"You're all here like mother hens picking up their chick from school." His voice is chiding, mocking. None of them take the bait.
Steve steps out, his first foot hitting the ground and wobbling. He catches himself on the side of the door and straightens. Their eyes follow the giant bruise, centered on the spot where his ear meets his jaw and radiating out across his face and neck. A deep gash, in the process of healing is present down his arm, and his clothes look like they've gotten wet and dried weird.
He walks towards them, his face passive.
"Steve?" Clint tries, stepping forward, "You okay?"
Steve's eyes are dull, "Yeah, this will be healed in a matter of hours."
Ross is back in the helicopter, motioning the pilot to take off.
"That's not what I meant." Clint corrects. "I mean are you okay?"
He gives them a weary smile, "yeah guys, I'm fine, I get injured on missions all the time. It's what I'm built for."
Natasha and Bucky share a look, confused. They've never heard him say that before.
They follow him, up the stairs and to his floor.
"Stop." He orders, turning to face them. A brief and weary half grin on his face. "Stop following me, guys, I promise, I'm fine. I don't need 5 mothers. I already have one—" His eyes turn blank, then he refocuses, his face clouding momentarily. "Had. I, uh— Just— I'm going to get cleaned up. Okay?" He shuts his door behind them and they are in the elevator before anyone speaks.
Natasha's thinking it, Bucky is rigid as a stone wall, but it's Bruce who whispers it.
"Did he…just forget that his mother is dead?"
—-
"Captain Rogers?"
"Yes, Friday?"
"Your presence is requested in the memory room. Will you be joining them?"
Steve sighs, his eyes on the painting he'd finished the night before he'd left for the mission. It was ready to be copied and hung.
"Yeah, tell them I'll be down in a minute."
—
Steve enters the room, his medical bed from when he woke up is absent but he notices that it's not the hard metal chairs like last time, it's soft cushioned chairs. These must have been dragged in from somewhere. It throws him off.
"Um, is this going to become a new hang out spot?" He chuckles. It's meant as a joke but it falls flat at their somber face. "Everything okay?"
"Not really, Steve." Natasha starts. She motions for him to take a seat and he does, watching them warily.
"What's going on? Are you finally going to tell me why you've been acting so strange lately?" His voice is full of concern.
Tony hands Steve one of the headsets. "Here, Cap. You're gunna need this."
"Thanks." He looks around and notices the package of water bottles and assortment of snacks in the corner.
Something about it makes him agitated and doesn't know why. He swallows thickly, eyeing the supplies and then back to them. "Um, guys? Why is there food and water here? Is there a shelter in place I don't know about?"
He watches as Bucky shifts his chair closer to his. Clint eyes the supplies and then looks back at Steve. "No, it's for the memory session. It's probably… it will go long."
Steve pulls back, "How can it go long? It's just the last mission I'm missing right?" He looks at each of them. "How long was the last mission?"
"No it's—it's not just the last mission, Steve— You… We told you a few days ago about the mission and how the injuries you received took a lot of your memories right?"
He looks at them, something confused behind his eyes.
"You do remember that, right?"
"Uh… When was this?"
"When we showed you the memories of Ross?"
"Oh. Oh yeah." They don't like that response and Steve knows it, so he tries to lighten the mood. "I think I might have been confused, I thought all the missing memories pertained to that mission. My bad."
Something worrying settles in each of their chests. They'd definitely shown him memories of Ross and other things that had nothing to do with the mission. He should know that.
"Steve, are you okay? Did your head get hit today?"
The soldier sighs, deflating. "Yeah…" he looks up guiltily, "I didn't want to tell you guys, I knew it would make you worry even more. Ross told me I got knocked unconscious for almost 15 minutes." He scrubs the back of his neck, "I'm okay now though."
"You're not okay if you're forgetting things." Bucky snaps.
"Well, that's what this machine is for right? You said I've lost a lot of memories, so… Now you can remind me." He smiles at them, the healing bruises shift with the raise of his cheek. "Let's get started."
Tony turns around to the machine, muttering to himself. "Oh, yeah, let's get started. Easy as that, no big deal, let's just turn our ray of sunshine back into a rain cl—"
"Stark." Bucky snaps.
He clamps his mouth shut. Eyes landing on a confused and concerned looking Steve, and an annoyed Bucky. "Riiight, super hearing. Forgot about that one." He flips the final switch, gearing it up. "So. Who's unlucky enough to start?" All their eyes flit to Bucky and he sighs.
"Guess that's my cue." He closes his eyes, and they begin.
—
They're only about an hour in. Bucky shows Steve every memory he can think of starting from when they met at as kids, except he's already shown Steve the good memories. So now it's just the bad. The illness, the sickness, the nights where he lays gasping for breath, wheezing, or violently ill in the bucket near his bed.
A voice speaks.
"Can we stop for a second—"
Bucky opens his eyes to see a paler Steve standing up. "Steve—"
"Just give me a minute. I'll be right back." He's out the door and gone before they can respond.
Bruce is frowning at the ground.
"Hey," Tony starts, "you know what I think would be fun tomorrow?" His voice is snide and sarcastic, "Bamboo under Steve's fingernails. Really fun stuff. Right up our alley with this whole load of shit we're doing now."
"It's not torture." Natasha snaps. "It's his life, you want him to just not know?"
"What's so wrong about that?" Tony shouts, hands waving, "We're not even 2% through and he's already—" His voice cuts off as Steve walks back in.
"Sorry," he says, ignoring their looks of concern, "I'm good. We can start up again."
Bucky almost doesn't. He almost agrees with Tony that why would they show him I all the horrible moments? Why not just let Steve be… free? Something he's never had the choice for. But there's gaps. The terror of Steve's brain filling in the missing stories with the manipulated memories is too much of a risk.
"Steve? You know… If you didn't want to know. If you're happy the way things are, we don't have to do this." Tony says, regardless of their previous decision. The group starts to protest but Steve cuts them off.
"No." He says, his voice low. "I don't want missing parts of my life. Whatever happened to me is part of who I am. I want to know."
Bucky closes his eyes again.
—-
They can't decide if it's a relief to show him the memory where he almost drowns but gets saved at the last minute. It's better than the alternative.
—
Bucky opens his eyes suddenly. They've been at it for hours and have just reached past where Steve is living in the orphanage and Bucky is suspicious. "Guys."
They all open look at him and he feels the wheels of his mind turning. "I think I should show him the next few alone."
They don't protest. They're gone within seconds.
—
He somehow makes it through. He shows Steve the alley and what happens and when hears Steve's heart rate and breathing change he feels like he might throw up.
"I'm sorry." He says repeatedly, "I'm so sorry."
He stops to look at Steve who has his head in his hands and is staring at the floor, eyes unfocused.
There's some part of him that's grateful that Steve has the real memory now. Not the horrifying manipulated one.
The show girls and the touchy moms and the disgusting soldiers are all shown at blazing fast speed. Bucky knows he needs to remember, but he doesn't have to dwell on it. After the last man tries to assault Steve in the tent. He feels more than sees Steve stand up. He glances up, eyes opening.
Steve's face is blank. "I gotta—" His eyes blink slowly. "Can we finish this tomorrow?"
"Yeah, Steve. Whatever you need."
He nods and begins to walk out. "Tell the others I'll see them tomorrow." It's a clear dismissal, but Bucky doesn't want it.
"No, Steve. You shouldn't be alone right now. It's a lot to take in, I know it is, but you need support. Let us be there for you—"
"I'm okay Buck. I just… need to process all of it."
"Let us help you." He pleads, "You always wished I would have trusted you after Azzano, and I didn't. And that was a mistake I made. Please, learn from my mistakes. Lean on us."
But Steve's already withdrawing. His face smoothing over with a calm demeanor that belies what his eyes show. "I'm really okay. Promise. I'll see you tomorrow."
Bucky stands, watching as his best friend curls in on himself. He knows why. What he's lived through is horrible, and Bucky hates that it's him showing it. He steps forward, hand reaching out for Steve's shoulder when Steve flinches back, causing Bucky to yank his arm back.
Steve tries to play it off, he laughs but it comes out flat and brittle. "I'll just— I'll see you tomorrow."
He's gone and Bucky is left feeling hollow.
—
When Bucky exits the elevator, four pairs of eyes train on him.
The unspoken question is answered by Bucky's glare in their direction and the fact that there's not Steve behind him.
—
The next morning dawns cold and rainy, which is fitting. Bucky walks out to see Bruce standing outside Steve's door, his hands fidgeting in front of him. Bucky doesn't mention that he had also been hoping to hear Steve singing in the shower. To no avail.
He ventures up to the common room where Clint and Natasha are, pretending they're not waiting for Steve to appear and start making breakfast for everyone like he has practically every day for the last couple weeks.
When he does finally appear, a face smooth as glass, he nods amicably and starts making breakfast. He cordially offers some to them and they accept, and that little tiny hope, the flickering flare of belief that maybe the last couple weeks of happiness would be enough to keep Steve happy, to keep him painting or joking or singing, dies with Steve's tight lipped expression.
—-