Bruce feels a rush of air as the doors to the auditorium open and James Barnes goes rushing past. He's about to ask what's going on when the rest of the group exit as well. No… Not the rest of the group… He calls out, "hey! Where are you guys going?"

The red head, Natasha, looks at him and there's panic in her eyes, "Steve's missing."

He feels his heart leap, "What do you mean missing? He just told me yesterday he was—-" he wants to say safe, but Tony Stark jumps in. "We think this has to do with Rumlow. We have to go." They bound down the hallway and are out the front doors before he can stop them.

He slips into the auditorium and finds Erskine. He pulls him aside and speaks quietly. "Don't let Rumlow leave today, okay?"

"Why?"

"Steven Rogers is missing and his group thinks Brock Rumlow had something to do with it."

"And you agree with them?"

Bruce looks at the man, the kind eyes and weathered face. "I wouldn't put it past him."

Erskine considers this, watching the bustling crowd. "When his parents arrive to pick him up, I'll ask to speak to them in my office. But I don't know how long I can keep them without them getting suspicious or trying to leave."

"I know. I'll keep you updated."

"Where are you going?"

"To help search."

"I hope you find him."

Bruce's face is serious as his eyes land on Rumlow. "We will."

—

"We should split up." Bucky says after they make it to the first train station, before they head down the stairs. "We'll work faster."

"UGH!" Tony growls, "I should have given that kid a phone just to keep track of him!" The group nods solemnly before Tony is shoving his hand into his pocket. "I should call my dad." Tony says, pulling out his phone.

"What else should we do? Call the police?" Natasha asks.

"We should." Bucky says firmly.

"Wait." Clint interjects. "We should search the stations first. If he's not there, or we don't hear about a train being waylaid, then we should go to the police."

"That's time wasted."

They stand there quiet for a moment as Tony speaks on the phone. "Dad? Yeah, sorry— No, we're not at the school.—- Because Steve is missing— Yeah, we called Sam and he said he'd go searching when Sarah gets there— We don't know, the trains were having issues Bucky said but we think— No, I don't think so. Dad, we think it's Rumlow— No, he's at the school—- Yeah like usually, has someone else doing his dirty work—- we don't know—- Okay. Okay, yeah, we'll meet you there."

He shoves his phone back in his pocket and looks at them. "My dad says after we searched the stations to meet him at the Brooklyn police precinct closest to Steve's house."

They nod. "Bucky, you and Natasha search this station. Ask the station master what happened to the trains around the time Steve would have been on them. Clint? You and I are going to run towards the house and check along there. If you guys," he points to Bucky and Natasha, "get told of a station we should check, then call us. Okay?"

They nod and split off.

—

Two hours later they're outside of the police station. Bucky watches as Howard Stark steps out of the car and has a very unhappy expression on his face. "Nothing?"

Tony sighs and his expression matches his dad's. "No. The station masters said only a few trains missed their stations and during the time Steve would have been on them, they would have been fine. So, he shouldn't have had an issue. I'm trying to access the security footage at the train stations but I haven't gotten in yet."

"I've already looked." Howard says with a sigh. "Scanned for facial recognition using his school photo at his usual station. Nothing. It's scanning the other stations now, but if what the station master said is true then that won't matter."

Bucky stares at the two Starks, relieved that they're trying, and dread that it's still not helping.

"So, he never made it to the train station?" Natasha clarifies.

"Looks that way." Says Clint, hands pulling on the hem of his shirt, "but Tony and I searched really thoroughly between his house and the station. No sign of him."

Howard points towards the door and they march through.

—

Sam stands, his shoulders tense as he stares down the cop on the other side of the glass partition. "You're not listening." He tries to say calmly. "This isn't a kid who would run away!"

The policeman, an older man, with salt and pepper in his hair and beard, and a bored expression on his face, sighs. "Listen, let me get this straight. A boy, 15 years old, goes missing, not even 5 hours ago, and" the man's voice gets snarky, "this kid—"

"His name is Steve." Sam snaps.

"Right, Steve lives in a government funded home."

The tightness in Howard Stark's jaw is bone cracking. "Yes. He does, but—"

The policeman holds up a condescending finger to stop him. "Nine times out of ten, in a situation like this, the kid made a run for it. You said you—" he points to Sam, "just took over yesterday?"

"Yes."

"That's a big change. We see this all time in situations like his. Kid's in a home, something changes, kid freaks out or doesn't like it and takes off."

"That's not what happened here!" Howard growls, "he wouldn't leave the other kids."

The policeman gives a knowing smile, "let me guess… Is he the oldest in the house?"

There's a silence and the policeman nods, "I see. Alternatively, if you—" he points to Sam, "are a better caretaker than the last, he probably finally felt free to leave. Lots of responsibility on a young boy's shoulders, if he was doing a lot of the caretaking before you arrived. He saw his chance to skip and he took it. You'd be surprised by how often this situation happens."

Tony strides forward. "You don't get it! That's not Steve at all! He would never just leave!"

"Listen kid,"

"My name is Tony." He snaps.

"Tony." The infuriatingly calm and incorrect police man says, "if the kid is leaving, he's probably not going to tell you in advance. You would have stopped him. We'll file the report, legally we have too, but I'm telling you, like every other case like this I've seen, the kid will either come back when he gets hungry or…"

Sam's voice is sharp as he whispers, "or what?"

"We drag 'em out of the river. Body pumped full of some substance or another."

Bucky has to keep his hands clenched to stop himself from pounding on the glass partition and shouting curses at the man. The room is dead silent.

"So you're not even going to look for him?" Howard's voice is flat and steely.

"Of course we are, we're going to do our jobs. I've already sent the school photo you gave me to our units on patrol. If we see him, we'll pick him up. He's still a minor."

"But you're not going to be actively searching? You're treating this as a runaway, not a kidnapping."

"Until we have belief of foul play? Or proof of someone kidnapping him, then no. Do you have proof other than this feeling you all have described?"

"The note he left this morning." Bucky says, walking up behind Tony, "I gave you the note he wrote this morning, that he planned to be at school."

"Seen many a note like that in my day, kid. Usually used as a misdirect to keep people from worrying or looking right away. Gives them time to get further down the road."

"This is despicable police work." Howard snaps. "You're not listening to what we're telling you. All of us are saying that Steve wouldn't run away! All of us! And you're going to tell us that we're all wrong?"

The man looks almost amused. "You know how many families come in here and yell and scream that their child would 'never this' or 'never that'? How many parents deny the stone cold proof that their child stole something, or drank, or did drugs? Or when we get kids who attempted or succeeded at suicide, and the parents will look at us and say 'but they're usually so happy?'." The policeman looks at them, the politeness gone. "We'll call you if we find anything. Until then, all you can do is wait."

Sam looks ready to beat his fist through the partition. Bucky agrees with the sentiment.

—

"This is BULLSHIT!" Tony shouts as they slam their way through the doors of the police precinct, exiting out onto the sidewalk. "Complete and utter BULLSHIT!"

"Tony." His dad cautions. "I agree, but can we keep it down?"

Tony growls but shoves his arms into his pockets and scowls at the ground.

"I can't believe this." Sam says, the palms of his hands screwing into his eyes, "it's been one day! I haven't even known Steve for 24 hours and he's already missing!"

"It's not on you." Howard says calmly, "we need a plan. The police are obviously not going to get anywhere. I'm having my guys in tech pull up street footage. But unless we see him on a traffic cam or CCTV, I doubt we'll find him through that."

"So we search. We call everyone who knows Steve, or that we know, and we search." Bucky says firmly. "We can't just wait around."

"We need to talk to Rumlow." Clint interjects. "He knows something. He did something. This is all him!"

Howard sighs. "His dad works in the government offices, and his uncle works in another police precinct. We've had run-ins with his family before. He won't go down without a fight. They know how to cover their tracks."

Just that statement makes their blood run cold. "He wouldn't…" Natasha says, eyes tight with concern, "kill Steve, would he?"

Howard's eyes widen, "No, no... I don't think so. You said they've been antagonizing each other since the beginning of the program, right? He probably just…" He trails off because they don't really know what Brock Rumlow would do to a kid who pissed him off.

"Okay." Sam says, his voice low and angry, "we need to cover all our bases. I'll start searching the blocks around the house, Howard? Keep checking that footage. Call if you get a location." He turns towards the group of them, "you guys should be searching, shouting his name. Do you guys know who Steve knew?"

"My uncle." Clint chimes in, "he knows a lot about Steve's mom too, from the past. I'll call him."

"My mom," Bucky adds, "she knew Sarah Rogers too. We'll call everyone."

"Okay." Sam looks at the group. "Do any of you feel confident in talking to Rumlow?"

"I will." Tony says. "He and I have known each other for years. That snake loves people to know his own genius. He'll spill eventually."

"Okay. Keep your phones on you at all times. Check-in regularly."

—

Tony slams through the doors of the school and stops at the school office. "Is Brock Rumlow still here?"

"He's in Dr. Erskine's office. They're in a meeting."

"Thanks."

He stalks down the hallway and hears the voices. He knocks.

"Yes?" Comes Erskine's voice. Tony opens the door and sees Brock sitting there calmly, and his mom sitting in a chair next to him. "Ah, Mr. Stark, how can I help you?"

"Uh, can I talk to Brock, really quick?"

"Sure, if you—" he nods towards Mrs. Rumlow, "are okay with that?"

She shrugs and Tony hears her say "so you wanted to discuss Brock's future prospects?" As he and Brock walk into the hallway.

He walks a ways down, wanting good space between them and anyone else. Thankfully the school is quiet, the program having finished at lunch time.

"Okay." Tony says, hands up in an easy-going surrender, "you got us. Where is he?"

Brock looks at him, eye brows raised, "where's who, Tony?"

"No need to play coy, Brock. You've already won. We admit defeat. Now tell us where he is."

Brock smiles, "I mean, I know I won. You don't have to tell me that. Hell, all of your turned tail and scampered the second you could."

Tony grits his teeth. He's trying to puff Brock up, to then rip him down. He takes a deep breath. "You're right. We really messed it up. So, we'll take that defeat in hand. But you can tell us where he is now."

Brock's face is smug, "Tony. I've already told you. I don't know where he is."

"Brock, come one, between us, I get it. Kid was kind of a punk you wanted to teach us a lesson. Lesson learned. We'll stay out of your way. Just tell us where he is." The words grate Tony's throat as he says them. He hates them. But he says it. He says it for Steve. Anything to find Steve.

"Man, I wish I was recording this." Brock chuckles, "but listen, Tony. I don't know how many times I can say the same thing. I don't know where he is. He probably got lost, or hell, fell between the cracks of a steam drain."

A crack of thunder sounds outside the school and they both stare out the window. Brock's face breaks out into an even wider grin as rain starts to pour against the windows.

"Uh-oh," he says with mock concern, "better find him quick before he floats away."

Tony's hands shake in anger as Brock salutes him and walks back towards Erskine's office.

—-

"THAT SON OF A BITCH!" Tony shouts, slamming his fist against the brick wall. "He knows! HE KNOWS!"

Clint stares up, eyes blinking against the rain.

Natasha sits on the stone steps. Yelena tucked up against her side. Bucky still wasn't back from his search with his parents.

"It's getting dark." Natasha says quietly. "We're going to have an even harder time finding him."

"Where could he be?" Clint asks sharply. "What's Brock's endgame?"

Tony glowers at the streetlights as they turn on. "I could see it in his face. He's so confident about not getting in trouble. Whoever did his dirty work for him? He's confident in them. I don't know what his goal is. I gave him everything he wanted. I admitted we lost, I admitted Steve was a punk—" He waves off the incredulous looks from the other two, "I HAD TO! I had to say whatever I could to get him to confess! Or just to give us a freaking hint as to where Steve is!" They snap their mouths shut and stand there, the summer rain trailing water down their backs.

The door to Steve's house opens and Sarah walks out. "You guys should come inside. You don't want to get sick."

"We're not done searching." Natasha says, her voice bleak.

"If Steve's out in the rain, then we're searching till we find him." Clint adds.

"You're no good to him sick." Sarah cautions. "I have to run home, grab some things, but then I'll be back. Are you guys okay until then?"

They nod solemnly and she looks at them, distress written clearly across her face. "You guys should talk to Peter. He's… he's not taking this too well." She steps past them, placing a hand on Clint's shoulder as she does so, and gets into her car and drives off.

"SHIT." Tony shouts again. "Peter."

Clint winces at the thought and they file inside.

—

"Where is he?" Clint asks Sam, whose eyes are sad as he finishes up cleaning after dinner.

"The three of them are huddled together in their room." He says softly. "When Sarah gets back, I'm going out searching again. You guys should go home and get some rest."

"Like hell!" Tony snaps. "We're not done searching either. When Bucky gets back, we're going out again."

Sam looks to argue, but he sees the determination on their faces and just sighs. "Just make sure you have charged phones and your parents know where you are."

They nod and leave the kitchen quietly, walking up the creaking wooden steps.

Natasha instructs Yelena to wait outside the door and it's a testament to how serious the situation is that she listens.

The three of them push through the door and catch sight of them at the far end of the room.

They walk over and settle down on the floor next to the group. Peter is snuggled up against Pietro's chest leaning up against the bed frame, while Wanda sits in the bed above them, her hands listlessly running through Pietro's lengthy silver hair.

"Any sign?" She asks in a whisper.

The silence is her answer, and her face screws up again, fresh tears dropping into Pietro's hair.

Peter's crying too and Pietro's eyes are red.

"He promised." Tony looks across to Peter whose voice is a wobble, "he promised!" They look at him stunned and his face gets angry and pouting, "he said yesterday, that he was staying. That he was here and we were safe!" The voice turns to a shout. "He promised!"

Tony's throat is in an iron grip, and the look on Clint and Natasha's faces tell him the same story.

"He promised!" Peter shouts again, digging his head further into Pietro's chest.

Pietro clings to Peter and tightens his arms around him. "You know it's not him. Peter, you know he would be here if he could."

"He promised he'd stay safe!" Peter accuses again, his voice muffled and his upping as he cries, "he promised.'

The desperation in Wanda and Pietro's eyes cuts Tony to the quick.

"We'll find him, Peter. You hear me? We're going to find him."

Peter's eyes peek out from around Pietro's arm. "You promise?"

His throat is raw and a rasp as he nods, "yeah, Pete, I promise."

The kid detaches from Pietro and throws his arms around Tony's neck, his wet face nestling against Tony's neck and shoulder.

Tony just stares in shock at the rest of the group before slowly wrapping his arms around the small kid and shoving his own face into Peter's shoulder, finally letting the fear of the whole situation overwhelm him as he feels his own eyes get red.

—

Bucky shows up not long after. Clint and Pietro are quietly talking, Wanda, Natasha, and Yelena are all lying silently on the floor, and Peter is sitting right beside Tony, his head tucked down against his knees as Tony has an arm over his shoulder, holding him tight against him.

Bucky looks at the group and just crumples, sliding cross legged onto the floor and leaning his head back against one of the old wooden bed frames.

It's silent for a few minutes.

"The rain isn't stopping." It's Clint's voice.

"It's almost 10p.m." Natasha adds. "I have to get Yelena home. I'll come back out once she's home."

"Tasha."

"No. No arguments. You're going home." Once again, Yelena stays quiet and they wave goodbye.

"Okay, we need to start rethinking our plan. Where we should keep searching. Obviously we need to go further out."

Tony huffs, his eyes on the back of Peter's head as it moves slowly up and down with his breathing. "I'll call Mr. Jarvis. He can come help us."

Pietro looks up and his eyes get a curious tint. "Uh…" he says hesitantly. "Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Yesterday you said…" he glances at Wanda, "you said you could hear him… You heard him getting hurt." He looks at Tony seriously, "could you hear him now?"

Tony feels his heart constrict, "Oh—" Then he hits his fist against his forehead. "I submitted it to the police yesterday!" He growls and hauls Peter up to his feet. "I gotta go kid. We have to go searching." Peter nods numbly and wipes at his tired eyes. Tony looks at them, and the rest of the kids who have slowly filtered back into the room. "You kids get some rest."

He, Bucky, and Clint tell Sam they're heading back out. Sam tries to get them to go home and get some sleep but they refuse. "Just…" He says, his eyes tired and sad, "just be careful okay? We don't want to be searching for any of you."

They nod. They step back out into the rain and stand there quietly for a moment. The only sound is the patter on the pavement. "Let's go back to my house." Tony offers. "We'll get some coffee, some food, and start a grid map that we can search."

Bucky and Clint nod at him miserably and call their parents, telling them their plan.

—-

"Clint," his stepmom says over the phone, "you're being careful right? I know that he's important to you, but your safety is important to me. I don't like you out so late…"

"I promise, mom. No one is going anywhere alone. We'll be careful. I just… We can't stop searching."

"Okay… I… Just, I love you okay? I'll have my phone on if you need me."

"Thanks, mom."

"Love you."

"Love you too."

Clint clicks end and shoves the phone into his pocket as they drive to Tony's.

Bucky had already basically had the same phone conversation with his parents. But his mom was calling all her old contacts to try to see if anyone had seen Steve. So far… No luck.

—

Howard is still up, pacing the hallways and muttering to making phone calls.

"Hey dad." Tony says numbly. Howard looked at the three of them and his expression is flat and reserved. "Nothing on the traffic cams?"

"No." Howard Stark sighs "nothing. There's not really any cameras from Steve's house until much closer to the train station. Whoever it was grabbed him not long after he left his house. I've been calling all my contacts in the police department, and they said they'd keep their eyes out, but it's not in their jurisdiction. There's not much we can do other than what we're doing."

The silence is back and it's getting louder.

—

They're sitting on Tony's floor, mugs of coffee and plates of snacks around them, waiting for Natasha who Jarvis had just gone to pick up.

The plate of muffins sits untouched.

"That smug son of a bitch." Tony growls for the 15th time. "Even when I was talking to him today, he was enjoying our misery just a little too much. Sadistic asshole."

"Did he give any sort of hint? Or say anything?"

"No. He just sat there, feigning ignorance. He even told me he wished he was recording me admitting that we lost to him."

Bucky's eyes close and he takes a deep breath.

"Man." Clint sighs, "I wish what Pietro had said was possible. That we could hear him right now. Maybe we'd be able to hear something that would give us a clue to where he is."

"UGH!" Tony groans, "I just feel like there's something we're missing! Something stupidly obvious! Did Steve say anything? Did something escalate with Rumlow when we weren't around?"

Bucky's head snaps up. He stands and points at Tony, "you said it was recording up until yesterday."

"Yeah, I turned it off when I handed it in. I was gonna fabricate a new one without a bug."

Bucky's neck is pulled tight. "But it was recording? Up until then?"

"Yes… Bucky, what are you getting at?"

"What if…" he looks at them and then at Tony's computer. "The day Steve came to school with glasses."

"Yeah?"

"He was normal in teh morning… But… then he was kind of in his own world at lunch… I just figured it was because of all the stuff going down. What if it wasn't?"

Clint's eyes and Tony's snap to the computer and they're leaping up, scrambling over each other to get to it. Tony slams his finger down on the space bar, waking it up and pulling up the recordings as quickly as he can.

"When? What day!"

They find the right day and listen in pin-drop silence as they hear Steve participate in class. They listen intently as the bell rings, signaling the end of the first class period and then they hear the hustle and bustle of the hallways.

Tony's about to hit fast forward when they hear a "those are some real nice glasses you got there, oh, Stevie boy."

They go absolutely still. That's Rumlow's voice.

They hear the hinges of the swinging door creak.

"Where you going? Don't you need to tinkle?"

"Let me out, Rumlow." That's Steve, Tony feels his grip on the desk go white-knuckled.

"Big tough words for an artsy boy with glasses." A pause, "Am I supposed to be scared?"

"What is your deal!" They hear Steve snap back, "what do you want?"

Then there's the sound of a scuffle that leads to a cry of pain from Steve. Bucky stands straight as if he's being shocked and he goes still.

Rumlow's voice is no longer condescending or joking. It's murderous and filled with fury. "You're dead meat, you know that? You and your little pals ain't worth shit and look how easy it was to get you alone."

Clint feels the floor falling out beneath him. He slides down, still listening as another sound of pain escapes Steve before they hear him speak, annoyed, "I'm not afraid of you."

The way Rumlow speaks next, pushes their nerves into high alert. "You should be."

Then they hear Steve get angry, his voice full of annoyance, "what are you gunna do? Beat me to a pulp? Fine, then do it! Stop making threats and do it!"

Bucky makes a choked sound in his throat and Clint stares into te distance as they hear Rumlow respond. "You think I'm stupid? You won't even see me coming. And there won't be a damn thing anyone can do about it either." They can hear the sound of. A punch and Steve wheezing and groaning, "You say one word about this to anyone? Maybe those little kids in that rathole you live in would like to meet me, huh?"

A desperate, "How?" From Steve is heard before the final words of Rumlow are spoken.

"like I said. You'll never see me coming."

Before any of them can say anything. Natasha's voice cuts through the room. "What the HELL."

They whip around to find her standing in the doorway, rain coat in hand and dripping onto the carpet.

Tony jabs at the computer, "this is proof! It's him!"

"Why didn't Steve say anything?" Clint bemoans.

"Didn't you hear?" Bucky snaps, "he threatened the kids. Steve would never have put them in danger."

Natasha stomps forward and stares at the screen. "Tony's right. This is evidence. He mentioned he knew where Steve lived. We need to take this to the police. This is the so-called proof they needed of foul-play."

"Or." Tony says, his face dark. "We go straight to the source. It will be faster." They look at him and he grabs his phone and his keys. "Let's go. I'm driving."

"You can drive?"

"Of course."

"Why don't you?"

"Easier not to. Parking in the city is a beast."

"True."

—-

They slip out of the house without Howard seeing and they slide into one of the many cars parked into the garage.

Bucky sits tensely in the front seat, while Clint and Natasha are silent in the back.

Tony taps something on his phone and then waits. When an address comes through he puts it into his navigational app and shifts into drive, pulling out to the road and driving silently out of the gate. The rain is pattering on the windshield and the glow from the street lights illuminates their faces.

—

They pull into a parking spot a block away and walk silently up to the large brownstone. They ring the doorbell and an annoyed butler comes to the door.

"Can I help you children?"

"We're here to talk to Brock."

The butler eyes them with distaste. "It's almost 1a.m. I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Tony pulls out his phone. "Tell that little menace to get his ass out here, or I'm going straight the police with this recording that I have. And you want to call his parents? Great. Bring them too."

The butler is stunned for a moment before sighing and motioning for them to wait.

A few minutes later, Rumlow appears, shirtless in pajama pants and bed head. "What the hell." He scowls. "This is private property."

"Tell us where Steve is."

Rumlow throws up his hands in annoyance. "This shit again? Geez."

"You tell us where he is, or we go to the police."

Rumlow's grin turns smug. "Heard you already did. Not much good it did for you and the runaway."

Bucky growls but Tony just holds up his phone. "Yeah, maybe. But we didn't have this."

Rumlow's eyes narrow. "What, am I supposed to know what you're talking about?"

"Last chance." Tony offers. His finger hovering over the play button.

"Whatever bluff you're trying to pull? Ain't working. Later." He goes to shut the door when Tony clicks play. Rumlow's voice speaks loud and clear through the speaker.

"You think I'm stupid? You won't even see me coming. And there won't be a damn thing anyone can do about it either."

Rumlow freezes and he looks slowly towards Tony's phone. "Can't prove that's me." He says breezily. "And even if it was. Doesn't prove I did anything."

Tony's thought this through. He's considered all the angles on the drive over. "Sure. Maybe." He says calmly. "But it's enough to get you detained. Enough to leave a mark on your record. And there's a lot of those half-marks on your record, isn't there Rumlow. You always just squeeze out of trouble. But this? This is a full mark. We can hear you assaulting him on the tape. Even when your daddy gets you cleared. This isn't going to disappear." Tony's face is flat and eyes ablaze, "I'll do everything in my power to make sure this haunts you for the rest of your ill-fated life if you do not tell us where Steve is right now!"

The rain falls for a minute before Rumlow sighs and leans against his door frame.

"I'm not afraid of you and your daddy's lawyers." Rumlow spits back.

"Okay." Tony says steely. "Great. Get in the car, you guys. Back to the police station."

"Clint."

Clint's head snaps back up to Rumlow, "what?"

"Speaking of permanent marks on people's records." He pauses and Clint just stares, unsure where he's going with this. "How are those brothers you used to hang out with?" Clint feels his heart seize up and his eyes get wide and his throat constrict, and he can't breathe. Rumlow's face turns into a slow smug grin. "Yeah, huh, it's funny… I ran into them the other day, just by total coincidence… We got to talking about life and they seemed surprised with the new company you're keeping. They didn't seem too thrilled with you shacking up with the boy that got them that prison sentence." He tilts his head, studying the horrified expression on Clint's face, with an amused expression. "Not too thrilled at all."

Clint doesn't even process what he's doing before he pounds up the steps and yanks Rumlow's collar, reeling back and slamming his fist against the guys nose.

He hears a crack and he reels his fist back again, before he feels hands grabbing him, hauling him back.

Rumlow's laughing. He laughs and he spits out blood and he laughs some more. "Man. You're just like those brothers. Pack a mean punch." Rumlow looks at the group, his nose already swelling. "Thanks for this." He says with a smile, pointing at his nose. "Good leverage."

He slams the door in their faces and Clint feels his knees give out, as the hands help lower him to the ground.

"What did he mean?" Tony asks, "what's going on?"

Bucky's face is hardened. And Natasha is the first to answer, "The Fleming brothers?"

Clint nods numbly and feels his chest refuse to take in air. "They'd kill him." He rasps out. "If they found out he and I were friends now? And if Brock figured out a way they could access him without getting caught? They might have killed him." His voice breaks on the last words and the rest of the group stands there in shock.

Somehow the rain picks up on their mood and gets colder.

—