I stared at my screen, at the apps and icons that were in the exact places where I left them, and hated it. I hadn't realized just how much I had missed coming in on some mornings to find everything messed up because Steve had taken it upon himself to poke around in my systems all by his lonesome rather than pick up the phone and call me, or at least someone who knew their way around computers, so we could retrieve whatever info he needed for him. There were days when I had been halfway convinced that Steve actually did know what he was doing, he just deliberately screwed up my stuff because he found my rants and tantrums funny. One very memorable occasion was when I came in to find a video of a waterskiing budgerigar playing on continuous loop with no way to get it off my screen. It had taken me two days to fix that, and I still didn't know how Steve had managed it.

I had actually accused Loki of being in cahoots with Steve after that one, and the fact that there had been no oxygen getting to Loki's brain while he was watching me getting more and more annoyed as I worked to clean up the mess because he'd been laughing so hard hadn't helped his claim of innocence at all.

"A dollar for your thoughts?" Thor's voice interrupted my zone. He set a cardboard cup in front of me while perching on the edge of my desk. I smelled milk and chocolate. After I had started eating again, I rediscovered my love of chocolate, especially since I could now indulge in as much of the stuff I wanted and not gain so much as an ounce. As part of his ongoing effort to forge a better relationship with me now that I was a huge part of his brother's life, Thor never missed an opportunity to bring me a treat.

"It's penny. Penny for your thoughts," I gently corrected. "I was just thinking about how much I would give to come in here to find my desktop icons all over the place or dogs barking 'Jingle Bells' blaring out of my speakers with the only way to stop it being to unplug the things. It would mean that Steve was here, alive and safe."

Thor made sure that I saw his hand before he let it land on my shoulder in a gesture of comfort. "I remember the dogs. You had started debating which would be more painful: Staking Steve naked to an anthill covered in honey, or just chaining him to the desk and torturing him with a violet wand. You had to explain to Loki and myself what a violet wand was."

Actually, Loki had already known what a violet wand was. He just hadn't said anything because he enjoyed watching me trying not to die of embarrassment as I explained it to his brother. To what should be the surprise of no one, the God of Mischief could be a wee bit of a sadist. "I thought I told you never to bring that up again."

"You're the one who brought up the Jingle Bell dogs," he replied in a pouty voice. I rolled my eyes as I grabbed my hot chocolate. "I heard about what happened. I wanted to check on you, but Loki was being very overprotective and wouldn't let me in."

"Loki has a talent for over-reacting. But it—it took a lot out of me, and stirred up some stuff that I wish I still didn't remember..." I toyed with the lid on my chocolate as I said it, my eyes glued to the screen. Talking about it was bringing it all up again. I didn't want to have this conversation, not here, not when I could smell, hear, and feel everyone else in this place. Bruce was in the kitchen raiding the fridge. Natalie was working out in the gym. Rhodey and Carol...

I winced when the shouting began. Thor rubbed the back of my neck as I hung my head and groaned, holding the cup of cocoa to my temple like a compress. "Is there any chance I can talk you into helping me with locking those two in a room with a bed, and hoping they take the hint?"

"Not at all. I would rather they figure it out themselves."

"That's not helping my migraines!"

"You're tough. I have faith you can handle it." He patted my shoulder and started to walk away to leave me to my work.

"They had me for years." My voice was barely a whisper, but Thor heard me anyway. He froze and stared at me. "They...wanted to know what else I could do besides feel emotions from others. They experimented on me." My vision blurred as I continued to stare at the screen, the warmth from the cocoa seeping into my palms. "They dissected parts of me, they tortured me. Both physically and mentally. I was thirty-one at the time one of them abducted me on my way home from work one night. When Raphael finally found and tried to save me, I was fifty-two. They spent all that time, trying to find out what made me tick and why I had caught the attention of one of their own. They even-"

I trembled. I couldn't bring myself to say it.

I felt Thor's arms curl around me. I didn't realize I had been crying until I found myself sobbing on his shoulder. "I'm so scared. I'm scared that they'll find me again, and finish what they star-"

"I will die before I allow that to happen to you. Loki and I both would," Thor promised as he petted the top of my head. The rage I felt coming from him wasn't quite as ferocious as Loki's had been, in part because he hadn't actually seen and experienced my memories alongside me as Loki had, but he was very, very angry on my behalf and the ozone scent that was his constant companion grew way more pronounced.

I should have felt comforted that such powerful individuals were on my side, and were willing to fight to protect me.

I wasn't.

I splashed more cold water on my face to wash the last of the tear tracks off, fumbled as I reached for a soft towel, and patted myself dry. I had managed to get some of the water on my clothes, so I was glad I decided to be casual today in jeans and a T-shirt on which were printed the words "Beam me up Scotty, there's no intelligent life down here". The shirt itself was black, which also helped. I grabbed one of the spare brushes that were kept in their individual packs in the drawers under the sink and fixed my hair, well aware of the presence that was waiting outside the bathroom for me to finish cleaning up but ignoring them in favor of pretending I had some privacy. Damn it, I told Thor I was alright and just needed a few minutes.

I brushed out my dark locks, put them in two braids, and then marched to the door. "Damn it, there are about fifty bathrooms in this place. If you need to pee that bad, use one of the other forty-nine instead of hovering outside this one like a cre-" I stopped because the scent I picked up was not the ozone and bagel smell I associated with Thor. I sighed and opened the door. "He called you."

"I actually came to get you for an entirely different reason, but Thor told me what happened and what you said," Loki responded, leaning against the opposite wall with his arms crossed.

Of course he did. "Do you two tell each other everything?" I snapped in irritation, closing the door behind me harder than necessary while I had a sudden strong craving for that cocoa that was getting cold on my desk.

"Only the things that matter. Hey!" He grabbed my arm to stop me from moving down the hall. "Why didn't you say anything to me?"

"Why would I need to? You saw the memories!"

"I did, but I did not know you were actually afraid that they were still out there lying-in wait! How long have you been holding onto this?" I tried to pull out of his grip, but he only yanked me towards him. "Stop. Come here."

"I really need to get-"

Nope. Before I knew it my back was against the wall, Loki was looming over me, and his hand had a steel grip in my hair forcing my head back so I had no choice but to look into that sapphire gaze that always saw way too much. "Why didn't you say anything to me?" He asked again, not bothering to hide his hurt.

"Why didn't you let Thor into the apartment when he came to check on me, or even let me talk on the phone for the past couple of days?" I fired back. "Hell, you didn't even want me to come here today!"

Loki was taken aback. He gaped at me. "I-I just thought that..."

"That I needed to be packed in cotton wool. That I wanted to be coddled and handled with kid gloves. You of all people, the one who came at me for living in a gilded cage when we first met, but it seems like you're alright with me living in a cage as long as it's yours."

"Now hang on just a minute, you had just remembered some extreme trauma..."

"I've been dealing with extreme trauma, Loki. I've been living with the results for a year and a half now. Hell, you weren't able to touch me for months after we met because of it, remember? I've had panic attacks since then, and yes that one sucked but it didn't render me incapable of interacting with anyone or of doing my job!"

"Let me get this straight: You're angry with me because I wanted to take care of you?"

"You can take care of me, but you don't have to shut me off from the rest of the world to do it, which is exactly what you did! That's why I didn't say anything about my fears. I knew if I did, you would've smothered me and that's not what I need. I can't be a prisoner, Loki. I need some sense of normalcy, or at least as close to it as I can get, which means interacting with other people and learning how to fight for myself instead of relying on others to do it for me!"

His grip in my hair loosened and he took a step back. "So, you feel like my prisoner?" His voice was frigid, and the hurt...

He felt like I had just stabbed him in the gut.

That was why I had kept my mouth shut about his overprotective tendencies, but I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep sparing his feelings when every time I lost my shit, I ended up feeling even worse because he and the others treated me like I was fragile. It was feeling patronizing, and it needed to stop.

But feeling his pain right now, I wanted to cry. I wanted to throw myself into his arms and tell him I was sorry. I knew this relationship stuff was new for him. I knew that, and even worse was that I was a fucking empath. I should've known how to get my point across without hurting him. "That's not what I meant."

"That's most certainly what it sounds like." I didn't think it were possible for his voice to cool anymore, but I could almost feel the tiny icicles prickle along my skin.

"Loki..."

He pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and placed it in my hand, the effort to not squeeze my hand obvious. "Barnes and Wilson are waiting for you. This," he flicked his hand and a medallion shaped amulet on a leather thong appeared floating in air, the amulet itself about the size of a quarter. "Will make it impossible for any electronic equipment to detect you. It will be very useful should you...do anything that may require stealth. I am of course not at all advocating that you go against the mandate that was handed down by Danvers and Rhodes."

He took the cord and very carefully placed the medallion around my neck, taking care not to touch anything on me except my braids. I noticed his hands were shaking anyway. "Loki..."

"Good luck, Tracy."

He turned away from me quickly, but not fast enough for me to not see his eyes. They were watery, and as he walked away there was no flash of light, no portal opening. He just simply vanished.

I slumped against the wall, arm around my middle as I took deep breaths and fought not to cry.

Damn it.

I pulled the Rabbit into the shadows of a parking garage, then walked the rest of the way to the address on the paper Loki had given me. It wouldn't do for my car to be spotted there, and besides the walk would allow me to clear my head a little more. I could not afford to fall apart, much as I wanted to. If Bucky and Sam were waiting for me, then I had a job to do and I needed to focus on that, not on the troubles in my relationship.

I probably could have phrased things a hell of a lot better than I did, but then I never had been very good at communicating. How ironic, I who knew how others were feeling before they did, sucked at putting my own feelings into words. It had been building for a while though. I had gotten tired of the others treating me like I was made of glass, and I definitely didn't need it from my—well, boyfriend felt inadequate a word to describe what Loki was to me, but it seemed to be the only one available.

The Avengers had treated me like a naughty child who needed constant discipline because I couldn't be trusted with sharp objects. Loki had begun treating me like that gaudy diamond bust of his that I had finally talked him into getting rid of a few months back: Precious, valuable, and in need of guarding at all costs. Both ways were smothering as fuck and were actually hampering, not helping, my recovery.

I didn't need to be protected. I needed to feel empowered, and I didn't feel like I had made any progress in that area. It needed to change.

I just wished it didn't feel like things with Loki might have to end in order for that to happen.

I knew he meant well. From everything I had been told, I was his first serious long-term relationship. He'd had lovers in the past, both men and women, but they had been temporary liaisons at best and pawns in his schemes to cause trouble for Asgard and its royal family at worst. He was still learning how to conduct himself in a real dynamic, still learning how to navigate the complicated emotions that were part of being committed to another person. He was a lot like an adolescent boy with his first girlfriend, wanting to treat her like the damsel in distress in fairytales because that's what he was taught he was supposed to do and he'd never really learned any different. And judging by what I had been told was the gold standard for men on Asgard, as much as that ideal was upheld in much of Western Earth culture, it was triple-emphasized for them.

He wanted to protect me from the awful stuff I had been through, and was still going through in a way. He wanted to be my knight in shining armor because he didn't know how to help me otherwise, because that's what he was taught and it was the example he had grown up with.

I sighed. Yeah, I had fucked up. I let my temper get the best of me. Again. Instead of having a calm discussion about how I was feeling, I had been bitchy and took out my frustrations on him. Now he was hurt and pissed, and I couldn't blame him. All I could do was hope things weren't damaged beyond salvaging.

Enough. If I dwelt on it anymore, I would turn into a blubbery mess and I had a job to do.

I smelled butterscotch and fresh cut grass, so I changed my stride to follow the two scents to a backdoor in an alley. I had to squeeze through a hole in a fence to get to it and the door was rusted to within an inch of its life. It wasn't a problem for me to open it, but getting rust and metal shavings all over my bare hands made me glad I was no longer susceptible to tetanus, and wish for gloves. I closed the door as quietly as possible, then sighed as I looked down at my shirt. If I was going to keep doing this, I needed to invest in a work outfit like the others had.

I dusted the rust off while following Sam and Bucky's scents to a doorway leading to a set of stairs, then traveled down and ended up in a maze. That's what it felt like anyway. A huge warren of rooms with hallways twisting and turning, and too many corners for my personal comfort. Good thing it was almost impossible to surprise me, and I let my nose lead me through the clusterfuck until I picked up voices. They were the delicate sounds of Sam and Bucky arguing in loud whispers that were increasing in volume as both men began losing their tempers, and I found myself longing for a hose so I could cool them down. Course that would only get them both mad at me while they were forced to take time to dry out their things before they could use them.

I paused in the hallway. Were Sam's wings and Bucky's arm waterproof? I might test that on a day when I was feeling a bit braver, and was in a place where I knew all the hiding spots. And me thinking about this was a sure sign that Loki had rubbed off on me. I really needed to get some better hobbies.

I turned at one last corner and there they were, the testosterone in the room deep enough to swim in. Along with the strong musky smell of angry man I received a taste of the emotions. Frustration to be sure. Concern bordering on anxiety from Sam. Stubborn resolve from Bucky. I got a better sense of things once the two of them turned to look at me. From Bucky I picked up defensiveness, and Sam's anxiety spiked. He was not happy to see me.

It was easy to put together that roping me into this was Bucky's idea. I wasn't surprised. Sam was at times a bit too cautious, especially when it came to breaking the rules. The powers that be had decreed that I could have nothing further to do with the search for Steve, and Sam was probably worried that my presence would land them in... oh, wait. His concern was for me. He was worried about me being tossed into prison. That made me feel a little better.

Bucky on the other hand didn't give a rat's ass about rules. He would do whatever it took to find Steve, although as I studied him, I picked up that he was concerned as well. Not to the same degree as Sam, but he didn't want to see me in prison either.

That made three of us. I very, very much wanted to avoid prison. I would keep that desire at the forefront of my mind, use it as incentive to avoid another meltdown in the field.

"Lover-boy didn't come with you?" Bucky asked as I joined them.

"He decided to sit this one out."

"The fewer, the better, if you ask me. Loki isn't exactly subtle anyway," Sam remarked.

"He did just fine the other night!" I told him in Loki's defense. "No one would have ever known we were there if not for-"

"Easy," Bucky put a restraining hand on my arm. "No need to dwell on that. It doesn't change the fact that we need you anyway."

"You need my nose," I corrected him. "Are we going to try to sneak into that compound? You know they've beefed up security."

"Would you know any of those people who were there if you picked up their scents again?" Sam asked.

"Of course."

"Then we're good. No, we..." Sam sighed and gave Bucky a look. "...are going somewhere else."

There was the temper and concern again. I looked back and forth between them, worried now.

"It's an old Hydra base, and he knows all of Hydra's secrets. He may be able to provide more leads, and we need all we can get. Especially after finding this." Bucky reached over to a table and picked up a baggie full of syringes. He opened it up and I recoiled, my hand over my mouth as I tried not to retch.

I really hated the smell of blood.

"Tracy? Those syringes were used on someone...can you tell..."

"Steve. His scent is all over them." I edged a little closer. "I smell a couple of the people from the compound too." I must have looked unsteady because Sam had just placed his arms so they encircled my chest under my arms, ready to catch me if I fainted.

I did feel sick. I did not want to think about Steve being tortured. Didn't want to think about that happening to the man who was the first to reach out to me when I landed on this Earth, and it didn't matter that I tried to kill him when he did, it mattered that he had wanted to help me despite me being crazed and dangerous. The man who let me work at the new Avengers HQ when the others wanted Dr. Strange to lock me up instead, the man who helped me get that lousy apartment above the bakery and that rusted piece of junk Rabbit that I had become attached to, to the point that I refused Loki's offer to buy me a new car. I knew it drove him crazy because it was an eyesore, but I kept it despite his protests because Steve had gotten it for me. He had helped me settle in to this Earth, had helped me start to forge a life here.

I had learned later that he had intentionally moved me next door to Bucky, not just so Bucky could keep an eye on me, but so I could help him. Steve had somehow known that helping someone else was the best way to get me out of the funk I had been in when I had first arrived, traumatized, amnesiac, grieving, and angry. But I had pushed all that aside to help Bucky out when he had his nightmares from his own trauma and guilt, reading to him several nights a week until he went to sleep on my couch, a friendship slowly budding until I was actually spending time in his place watching movies and sharing pastries from downstairs.

"Redwing retrieved them," Sam said to my quizzical look. "We did a little reconnaissance of our own while Walker and his people were busy trying to put you in jail. Couldn't get close personally, but I was able to use Redwing to take some pictures and get those. Can you smell any drugs?"

My stomach rolled at the thought of sniffing out of that baggie again, but I concentrated anyway as I breathed deeply. "I don't smell any lingering remnants of any drugs or chemicals, unless you count the Super Soldier serum." That stuff had an indefinable smell that I could never really label. It was more like a suggestion of an odor. It was hard to describe, I just knew it when it was there. During the first few weeks I was on this Earth, both Steve and Bucky's scents would make me uneasy until I finally found out what the source of their powers was and that's when it all clicked in my head. It was like the scent of rain. Rain had a scent that was really not definitive either, but people knew what it smelled like. That's what the serum was to me.

"Now that she's confirmed it, I really need to talk to him," Bucky said, closing the baggie with a grim expression in his eyes and his jaw clenched. As much as I didn't want to imagine Steve being...whatever those people were doing to him...for Bucky, it had to be ten times worse.

Him? "I'm confused."

Sam sighed. "We're going to Germany, so we can speak to Zemo."