I shifted and squirmed in the seat, trying to get as comfortable as I could and failing miserably. No wonder soldiers left these planes riled up and ready to fight. I'd be in the mood to shoot something too after sitting in these hard chairs for hours on end. Since we were trying to keep what we were doing as low-key as possible and thus not use any Avengers stuff, we were flying in an army plane piloted by a friend of Sam's from his military days.

The emotional undercurrents were not helping my comfort level, but they were understandable. I flipped through the file Sam had given me to read so I'd be up to speed on this Zemo guy, who was very bad news. He had caused a lot of problems several years ago, framing Bucky for a bombing that killed the father of the current ruler of Wakanda, masterminding a plan to pit the Avengers against each other. It had worked, and Tony and Steve had almost killed one another. The Avengers were broken up for years as a result. Steve, Nat, and Sam had spent a long time on the run. The whole team was divided at the time Thanos did his thing, so one could say that Zemo was even responsible for half of this universe dying.

I sucked in a harsh breath as I read on. I'd always known there was some tension between Bucky and Tony. I dreaded it when the two of them were even in the same building, much less the same room, because the messy stew of guilt, anger, and grief was enough to make me nauseous. I had never asked about it even though it made me curious. But holy shit, now I knew and I kind of wish I didn't. Bucky had been brainwashed at the time and hadn't been in control of his actions, but it didn't change the fact that he had killed Tony's parents.

No wonder Tony always felt like he'd love nothing more than to gut Bucky like a fish on the rare occasions I was in the same room as the two men. No wonder Bucky's guilt almost drove me to my knees in more than one instance. Things were slightly better now. Time, and parenthood on Tony's part, seemed to have softened things somewhat, but the two men were definitely not going to be attending a Yankees game together anytime soon.

The more I read, the more I was on Sam's side and felt convinced that Bucky being in a room alone with Zemo was a very, very bad idea.

Good lucky convincing Bucky though.

"We're here. Time to get up," Sam announced. I put the papers back in the folder and stuffed it in one of the storage pockets above the seats. Then I was slammed against the wall as the cabin suddenly became very windy. I turned in time to see Sam jump out the door, spread his wings, and fly off.

"Ready?" Bucky shouted from behind me, then he began pushing me towards the same door.

Nyuh uh. Not happening. I dug in my heels. "Can I at least get a parachute first?"

"There's only one!" Bucky shouted above the wind roaring in. "We're sharing!"

Seriously? They only brought one parachute? "Bucky, I love you, but not enough to hug you for ten thousand feet!"

"It'll be fine! Just don't freak out on me!"

The wind knocked me off balance enough for Bucky to take advantage and push me to the door. I made the mistake of looking out and down. I wasn't a fan of heights when I was human. That hadn't changed with my transformation. Jumping out of a perfectly good airplane was still not my idea of a good time. My stomach was doing fantastic flip-flops and I gulped as the scenery below rushed. "Can you give me a-"

Bucky's hands grabbed my arms and he spun me around to face him. "Hold on!" He guided my arms around him, grabbed my hips to force me to wrap my legs around his waist, then his arms closed around my middle and he jumped.

Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck

The air roared past my ears and battered my face, pulling strands of hair out of my braids which smacked me while the wind and Bucky's arms squeezing me knocked me breathless. I didn't even scream. Then my stomach lurched when we were jerked like puppets on a string as the parachute opened, and for one frightening moment Bucky's grip seem to loosen ever-so-slightly, instilling the fear of God in me as I prayed for the first time in forever that he wouldn't drop me. The warmth of Bucky's body pressed against me as the ground grew steadily closer with bowel-loosening speed. I swore if I survived this, I was going to kill him.

"Roll when we land," Bucky shouted into my ear. "You need to let go of me when I say so!"

Let go? Let go? Surely, he was joking.

"Remember to roll, so you don't break your legs!" Bucky reminded me again as the ground rose up to meet us.

I would survive a broken leg but it would still really suck, so I obeyed, tucking my body inwards and rolling with the jarring impact as we hit the ground. I took a second to lie there, breathing in and willing myself not to throw up while waiting for the dust to settle. Mortal or immortal, my heart did not need to be doing its best to pound out of my chest, and I vowed to practice levitation more so I would never have to go through this again. I turned and glared at Bucky through the dirt still flying between us.

"Next time," I snarled at him. "Pack two!"

Someone on Munich's streets had taken pity on me and slipped a comb into my hand, so I was spending the time Sam and I waited fixing the rat's nest that impromptu skydive had made of my hair. "You know, you really shouldn't use a stranger's comb," Sam lectured me as I did my best to detangle my locks without the aid of any conditioner.

"I'm not worried about germs," I retorted, working to smooth my hair into a ponytail.

"I wasn't talking about germs; I was talking about lice."

"I'm not worried about lice either."

"Maybe not you, but I'm betting your man won't appreciate you bringing little critters into the bed with you."

"He's got magic for that, and so do I." Loki had taught me a couple of grooming spells, including a neat little magical repellent for mosquitoes. I figured it would also work on lice and other creepy crawly bloodsuckers. Maybe.

Too bad he had neglected to teach me anything that could do something about my hair, but then I suspected that my hair was such a lost cause that no magic would be able to touch it. I was willing to give him a pass there.

"Speaking of which, what's the real reason he's not here?"

"What makes you think I didn't tell you the real reason?" I asked, using one of the bands to put my hair into a high ponytail.

"Because every time Bucky or I bring him up, you wince."

I did? Fuck.

"You two had a fight, didn't you?"

"None of your business."

Sam grinned. "I knew it. I knew it'd only be a matter of time. Let me guess: You put your foot down about him being such an overprotective ass, and now he's pouting."

I stared at Sam, stunned. "I thought you didn't have any powers."

"I don't need powers to notice that. I'm just observant, and I've noticed that Loki has a tendency to act like a rottweiler every time the slightest little thing happens to you, and I've also noticed how annoyed you get when he does it. I bet the past couple of days he kept you holed up in your apartment was the last straw."

"Are you sure you have no powers?" Sam was so on point it was terrifying.

Sam shook his head. "I've just gotten to know you over time, and I came to realize that you're someone who needs to stand on her own two feet. You don't like others fighting your battles for you. That's why you still came to training even though you whined about it constantly..."

"I did not whine." At the time I saw it as a waste of time, since I hated violence and avoided fighting whenever possible, but accompanying Bucky on these trips to find Steve had changed my tune. Well, that and Loki had hurt my pride by putting me in the dirt that one time in New Asgard and I became determined to wipe the smile off his face one day. "And I didn't do it to learn to fight. It was a way to get familiar with my new body so it'd stop feeling so alien to me after my change." The first few weeks had been horrible. I had been tripping and bumping into everything. There were a few holes in the walls at Avengers Mansion and at my old apartment above the bakery that could be attributed to my klutziness and me not knowing my own strength at the time. Ceilings and floors as well. Broken doors, one smashed sink, more than a few faucet handles torn out of showers. And so much broken glass. They were still finding spots where I had done accidental damage during that time.

So yeah, Steve had decided that I needed physical training to go with Stephen Strange's magical. It had helped me to become more graceful in my new body and less like a walking disaster.

"Bullshit. That's a large part of the reason, true, but it's not the only one. After your captivity, you were left traumatized and feeling helpless, and you never wanted to feel that way again, so despite your whining—and yes, you were whining—you did the training so you wouldn't be helpless again. Am I getting warm?"

He was fucking blazing, and it was making me uncomfortable.

"But then, you hooked up with Loki. He's not as macho and neanderthalish as some of the other Asgardians, but he still has a tendency to get all 'you woman, me guard' when it comes to you. And that has had the unfortunate effect of making you feel like a helpless little thing. I knew it would only be a matter of time before you couldn't take it anymore." Sam just grinned when I didn't say anything. "So, what'd you say to him?"

My first instinct was to tell him again that it was none of his business. But I realized it might be helpful to get a man's perspective. I sighed and told him.

"Oh man! Tracy, Tracy, Tracy...no wonder he's pissed! You basically gave him a verbal kick in the balls."

I flinched. "Thanks for confirming that I fucked things up royally."

"No, he did that first by treating you like a helpless princess who needed protecting from a dragon. He'll come to realize it once he cools off and starts using that brain of his instead of focusing on his hurt pride." When I didn't say anything, he reached over to wrap his arm about my shoulders and give me a half-hug. "You haven't messed anything up beyond salvaging. He'll come around, and you two will work things out."

"You think so?" I asked with a tiny sliver of doubt.

"Shit, are you kidding me? The man's crazy about you. He worked hard to get you, and he's not letting you go." He paused. "I mean, you could have been nicer about it, but that's not really you. For an empath, you're pretty damn blunt."

I snorted softly. "I spent my life seeing through lies and the actual hidden meanings behind what people say, knowing that what they show on the outside isn't always a reflection of what's in. I've never seen a reason to sugarcoat things."

"Well, that and you have a temper."

"That, too," I conceded. "By the way, he didn't work that hard."

Sam laughed. "Oh, please. The rest of us would watch while he was falling all over himself trying to flirt with you, and it was funny as hell. That was the only reason we never kicked him out when he decided to make himself at home in the Mansion. He'd be trying to put the moves on you, and you either didn't notice or would say something snarky and he would just look sad. I almost started feeling sorry for him, because I was convinced that you were a lost cause."

Sam had been the most vocal, with Tony and Rhodey tied for very close second, against me being allowed anywhere near Avengers HQ, much less around civilians, and advocating for Dr. Strange to take me to Kamar Taj, so I knew that was true. I couldn't pinpoint exactly when his attitude towards me started to change.

I must have had a look on my face that gave Sam an idea of what I was thinking. "It was Bucky. He told me about you reading to him on nights when it was bad for him. Before he told me that, I thought that you were way too damaged and too powerful, and that was a bad combination to have around. After he told me about the books, though, I realized I judged you way too harshly. And I apologize for that."

Damn it, I would not cry.

"Anyway, just remember," Sam went on. "Relationships are compromise. You need your independence and need to feel you can take care of yourself, but Loki's got his needs too. You just need to find a balance." He smirked at my sigh. "I know, easier said than done, but you'll get there."

I wished I had his optimism. He didn't feel Loki's pain, that I inflicted on him.

Ten minutes later, my troubles were put on the back burner as I watched Bucky with ever-growing suspicion due to the mix of guilt and uncertainty I was picking up from him. He wasn't helping matters by avoiding eye contact with me, as though that would somehow shield him from my abilities. He knew better, but I understood that it was a reflex response to guilt.

"You want to what?" Sam asked.

"You heard me," Bucky replied.

"You want to break Zemo out of prison?"

I caught another flash of guilt, but I stayed silent. I didn't take my eyes off Bucky, and he knew I was staring. HIs forehead was beaded with sweat.

"Look, the guy is insane. And he hates superhumans, but he's not an idiot. If someone is holding Steve prisoner and taking his blood, there's a lot of things that someone can do. Clone Steve. Make more super soldiers, and as much as Zemo dislikes us he hates super soldiers even more. He'd be willing to help us out just so he wouldn't have to see any more of us come into the world!"

Sam was absolutely incredulous, and I wasn't much better. I finally spoke up. "Bucky...what did you do?"

"I didn't do anything."

I blinked. "Did-did you just lie to me?" Oh, he definitely knew better than that.

Sam looked from me back to Bucky. "What did you do?"

"Alright...there's a reason I told you two to wait in this particular warehouse..."

"What. Did. You. Do?!" Sam asked again.

I knew what he did though, and it was confirmed when I sensed a new presence enter the building. Relief, smug satisfaction, and determination flooded my empathic senses while my ears picked up the footsteps. Moments later, the scent followed.

Caramelized sugar and fresh milk. Damn it, being around Zemo was going to make me crave ice cream.

Sam almost lost it when the man stepped through the doorway. "YOU!" He roared.

"Sam, wait...I had to, I went ahead and did it because I knew you wouldn't let me..."

"You're damn right!" To Zemo he said, "You're going back to prison!"

"Just hold on Sam..."

Zemo, for his part, just stood back and watched Sam and Bucky argue. Then he noticed me, because I wasn't taking my eyes off him. To give him credit he didn't let any apprehension show, but he didn't know me and that was making him nervous. He didn't like wildcards.

Good.

"Sam, we need him. He's got a good idea of where to start. I told him about the Hydra base where Steve was held..."

Zemo finally spoke. "You still have not told me how you figured that out."

"And we're not going to!" Sam answered.

Bucky attempted to wave him down and pointed at me. "She caught his scent, and also smelled his blood on the syringes I told you about."

Zemo glanced at me, and actually took a step back. "She's a superhuman?"

Not quite human, but he didn't need to know that.

"That's right, and she's also a psychic, so she's going to watch you like a hawk," Bucky informed him. Great, now I was a babysitter.

Empath didn't mean psychic either, but Zemo didn't need to know that either.

"Come on, Sam. We have Tracy here to tell us if Zemo is even thinking of doing anything or if he's lying to us. Why do you think I wanted her along?"

"I thought it was because of her nose, and because she could sense if Steve were nearby," Sam stated.

"That, too, but..."

"If she's a psychic," Zemo interrupted. "Then why can't she pinpoint Steve Rogers' location right now?"

Because I'm not a psychic, I thought, although Zemo was already suspecting that Bucky and Sam were not telling him the truth about me. "My powers don't work that way," I told him.

"How do they work?" he asked me.

"It's complicated, but you want to know what's simpler? When someone gives me a look like I'm a bug on a slide they want to study, I simply do this."

My hand smacked the concrete wall. Zemo looked at the crumbling handprint, studied how deep it was, and his eyes finally settled on the ever-growing pile of dust on the floor. "Noted," he said blandly. "Tracy, is it? What else can you do?"

"Lay off, Zemo. She's your warden, not your buddy, and you don't do anything without our permission first," Sam said. He was still unhappy but he was resigned. "Fine. We'll do this, but the moment we find Steve, he's going back to jail."

"Fair enough," Zemo shrugged, as if it made no difference.

Ugh. I could feel a migraine coming on already.