AN:- Thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed, added to alerts and favourites.

Just to help place it time-wise - this is post Captain America - though heavily canon-divergence but pre Avengers Age of Ultron (though I can't say I am following the plot of the films much in this story) all will be revealed in time.

This chapter is up earlier, because I had it already written and it just needed a few adjustments to it. Please know that going forward updates will most likely be weekly or ten days or so unless otherwise stated.

All mistakes are mine and mine alone.

I hope you continue to enjoy the story.


X


Chapter 1:-

The wind was chill.

Holly buried her nose in her jacket as she walked across the crossing stopping on the opposite side of the road in front of a large towering building.

A simple warming charm would have rectified the problem, but the last thing she wanted was to draw unnecessary attention to herself.

Goosebumps prickled her arms, though Holly was certain it was more for nerves than the cold air that was breezing around her.

Her mouth was dry, and her heart was beating as fast as Billywig's wings rotated.

This.

This was absolutely her worst idea to date, and that included when she decided to jump on a Trolls back when she was eleven, and breaking into Gringotts at seventeen and the countless other ideas she had over the years.

Holly glanced up at the tall building in front of her, feeling incredibly small. For a single moment, she couldn't will her legs to move, to take that all-important step forward.

She was nervous.

More than nervous.

She absolutely could not do this.

It was going to blow up in her face, in true Potter style.

Yet she couldn't pull her gaze away.

The Avengers Tower was hardly one of the seven wonders of the world, or even architecturally pleasing to her eye, though Holly was sure some would disagree, though she could admit that the building was impressive.

An imposing giant that stood out amongst a sea of giants. Styled with all glass and modern chic vibe, it glistened in the sun, like a beacon for a better tomorrow.

Holly had no doubt that had been the intention of the design all along, even before the pale blue A had been firmly fixed into place signalling to New York and the rest of the world that the Avengers were here, present, watchful and guarding.

A beacon of hope in a bleak turmoil world.

But it was because of that turmoil that Holly found herself standing outside the Avengers Tower.

That didn't stop the uncertainty creep along her spine. Holly couldn't help but feel as if the tower was glaring at her as if it knew she was here under false pretences.

Well, technically she wasn't. She was here for a job interview, and she did want the job.

Holly just wasn't listing the many reasons why she wanted the job.

Not that she could worry about that too much.

No, right now she just needed to convince her legs to work and walk into the building.

That would be her first step.

She would worry about everything else once she had done that.

She just needed to move.

Five seconds.

Holly would give herself five seconds.

She would allow five seconds before she pushed herself forward and step into the building.

Holly closed her eyes and breathed.

One.

It's just like every other job she had been on. It was just another mission. She could do this.

Two.

She had nine years as an Auror under her belt. Seven years of fighting a war that had started long before she was born.

Three.

She had survived Voldemort. She had hunted down his Death Eaters.

Four.

She was Holly fucking Potter, and it wasn't in her nature to back down. Not when others depended on her.

Five.

She had survived so much, she had survived death. Walking into a building that housed Earth's Mightiest Heroes should be a walk in the park.

Holly opened her eyes, pulled her Occlumency shields tightly around her, just in case any of them had the powers of mind-reading, and schooled her face until she was wearing the Auror mask she had perfected over the years.

She ignored her stomach hardening, ignored her magic seeming to uncoil and test and taste the air.

Even ignored what felt like an itch in the back of her head, a clawing sort of nudge that seemed to be driving her forward in a way Holly didn't understand.

There were days Holly felt as if she was a stranger in her own skin, or that she shared her body with something that hungered for things she couldn't quite put a name to.

Shaking her head softly, while muttering to herself, Holly moved towards the swirling front doors as people moved in and out of the building and joined those pushing their way into the building.

Warm air washed over her, a welcome relief from the coldness outside, without being swelteringly over the top.

While the outside outer shell of the building hadn't been welcoming, Holly couldn't say the same about inside.

All sleek-lines and marble floor that shimmered in the rays of the low winter sun. Holly's eyes swept over the lobby as she walked towards the main reception desk, making a mental note of the security team dotted around, nine in total. Holly wasn't sure if that was overkill or if they were precautious, but considering whom the tower housed, precautious was what she was hedging her bets on.

Especially considering who their enemies were.

Each of them armed and positioned strategically. The advantage would be with the home front before the bad guys even stepped through the lobby.

Holly knew how and where she would attack from, and with her using magic they wouldn't see her coming, she would be able to take them.

Not that she had any intention of crossing paths with them.

Holly was here to observe, gather the information that she needed and then leave.

In and out.

No complications.

Even if it took weeks or months, she had allowed for that. She couldn't risk rushing this and letting the opportunity slip through her fingers.

She needed whatever information the Avengers had on Hydra before she could even contemplate her next move.

But first, Holly needed to get the job.

Failure was an unacceptable outcome.

She had come too far to fail now.

How was it the saying went 'Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.'

Holly was more than prepared to move or raise hell to achieve her goals.

Especially if it meant lives were saved.

Holly walked across the lobby with a confident purpose she had perfected over the years. The lone shy girl in the cupboard buried long ago. She had her mask firmly fixed in place, moving like she belonged in a sea of muggle business-minded individuals and professionals.

Holly may have been more comfortable in dragon hide Auror approved combat boots any day of the week that allowed her to kick ass; run, fight and still made her legs look good.

But that didn't mean she didn't know how to look the part of an aristocrat heiress. She hated the scene, but Andromeda had taught her well, taught her how to highlight her best features, how to disarm with a smile and words, just as easily as she could with a wand. Holly knew how to manoeuvre the political waters, knew how to dance not just on the battlefield but also in the galas and the social circles of the elites.

It was those skill sets that had allowed her to be good at undercover work. The masks she wore gave her a layer of protection from the prying eyes of the Wizarding World who only ever wanted pieces, and never the whole package that made her who she was.

Holly pulled up every ounce of training she had received as she crossed that lobby.

Her four-inch heels clicking on the marble floor matched her black skirt and jacket. The crimson red blouse and equally dark red painted lips, the only splash of colour she had allowed, stood out against her pale skin, made her look like an entirely different person.

As if she had donned armour.

Holly had even spent the extra few minutes and more hair charms than she liked using to style her hair so lose curls fell over one shoulder. Discreetly hiding her left side of her neck.

Armour and her masks, keeping the real her tucked away safe.

She smoothed down an imaginary wrinkle in her skirt and smiled her warmest smile as she reached the reception desk, ignoring the knotting ropes in her stomach and the itch of her right hand to reach for her wand.

She was just a muggle. Just a muggle. Don't use magic unless she had no other choice.

The receptionist had short dark brown hair, a cheeky smile and a dimple on his chin. He looked entirely too young or instead just fresh-faced enough that he gave the appearance of youth.

"How can I help you, ma'am?" His teeth were too white, almost blinding white, and from the way he smiled Holly was sure it was a new thing, and he intended to show them off whenever he could.

"I have an interview with Maria Hill," Holly replied, her own smile not nearly as full as, her eyes glanced at his name tag, 'Simon's'.

"Name please?"

Holly's hand twitched slightly before answering, "Holly Potter."

She had thought long and hard about what name she would use, and while she had a few 'fake identities' that she had used over the years in the muggle world, there was only one that would hold up to the level of scrutiny that she had no doubt her application would receive.

And even though she was confident that Kingsley had done an excellent job in ensuring her records were the best they could be to withstand any government inspection, any questions thrown her way, the knots tightened together, and her stomach turned. Her right hand felt the familiar feel of her wand in her palm before she quickly shoved it back into place in the wand holster.

Holly kept the smile in place and her emotions firmly in check as Simon typed away at a keyboard that looked so thin and flimsy Holly wasn't entirely sure it was really there or whether it was an image of one in some way.

Holly knew only seconds ticked by, but it felt like a lifetime had passed the moment she had given her name and for Simon to check the computer for whatever the hell he was checking for. It was only as he looked up at her and smiled a little wider, that she let out a breath she hadn't realised she had been holding and relaxed her shoulders ever so slightly.

Holly smiled at him, as he passed her an ID card that seemed to have her picture printed onto the front.

What the actual fuck?

Holly swallowed the question and asked instead about other potential candidates.

"Have there been many candidates?"

"Only five, including yourself. Ms Hill will be meeting you on the 80th floor. Use the fourth elevator on the right; it's the only one that goes up that far. Just press your ID card to the sensor, and it will open for you."

"Thank you."

"Good luck in your interview, and have a pleasant day ma'am."

Holly nodded in acknowledgement, before making her way towards the elevators, she was pretty confident that was the American term for lifts, behind the reception desk and to the one that would take her up to the upper levels.

Two more security guards stood at the far wall, watching all who entered and exited them. They eyed her up cursorily as she made her way to the one closest to them.

Holly forced herself to ignore them, not disrespectfully; she acknowledged them as any regular muggle would brief eye contact before going about her business, even though it set her teeth on edge to give her back to armed individuals.

Breathe.

Just breathe.

The lift doors opened with a soft hiss, once she pressed her ID card to the sensor, and she stepped inside, letting out another breath of relief as nobody followed her.

Holly hated lifts.

Hated the confined space.

Even magical ones that expanded at will.

Despite the space being big enough to fit, eighteen people or at least the sign indicated eighteen Holly didn't believe it for a second, she could feel her heart beating that little bit faster, her palms clamming together.

Holly took off the suit jacket, hoping that one less layer would at least provide the illusion of freedom.

It didn't help.

She ran a hand through her hair.

Just breathe.

In through your nose.

Out through your mouth.

The last thing she needed was to turn up to her interview looking like a pooling mess.

But the elevator was...

Too much.

It felt too confining.

Too much like...

Don't think about it!

Her magic snapped, baring its teeth, the lights flickered and the lift...groaned, caught and jerked.

Holly froze.

Oh, come on, this was not how she was going to die, because she couldn't keep her emotions in check, because she was an emotional child who didn't know the difference between control and lack of control.

And didn't that sound entirely too much like Snape for comfort.

Holly breathed and shoved everything down.

She closed her eyes and recited the only thing she knew that calmed her, spells rolled through her mind.

Perhaps it said something about her, that violence was the only comforting thing in her life. But it was familiar; it was a part of who she was, how she had been raised.

She didn't know how to be soft or gentle.

But she did know how to bring down opponents with a flick of her wand.

Ebubilo Jinx - traps a target in a giant bubble.

Orbis Jinx - sucked the target into the ground.

Pounding Hex -

"My apologies, Ms Potter, there appears to be a minor technical glitch that temporarily disrupted the elevator. It has now been fixed," a British male voice broke the silence in the elevator.

"Huh." Holly opened one eye and glanced around, "Umm, I'm sorry, it's fine but...yeah, who are you?"

"Forgive me, Ms Potter; I am JARVIS, the artificial intelligence that runs the Tower."

Holly opened her other eye and frowned.

Artificial intelligence? Sentient?

Never trust anything that can think for itself, if you can't see where it keeps its brain. Tom Riddle's Diary had been Sentient and it had taught her that lesson well.

"You're not going to try and kill me are you?" she asked because really she had nothing to lose in asking...other than the fact it wasn't a question that most people would ask.

There was a pause, and Holly looked up at the security camera waiting patiently for Jarvis to answer, "No, Ms Potter."

He sounded somewhat amused. Guess Artificial intelligence could do amusement, now wasn't that fascinating.

Holly smiled slightly, "That's good. It's not Wednesday, people are only allowed to try and kill me on Wednesdays."

"I see, Ms Potter, and how would they try to kill you, if it was in fact Wednesday?"

The amusement was there.

"I have to say death by elevator would be a new one and not the way I would want to go. But speaking of the most recent transaction, it would have been death by car," Holly paused, rambling because she needed the distraction more than anything else, "I think it is a written universal law. Wednesdays are kill Potter Day, right alongside Tequila Tuesdays and Thirsty Thursdays."

Holly smiled; she could imagine trying to introduce Jarvis to Arthur Weasley, who found the rubber duck incredibly beautiful.

"I see."

"So, I have to ask what is a fellow Brit doing in a place like this?"

"I have to admit Ms Potter that you are the first British person I have met."

"Well, that's just sacrilege. Well as your first Brit, it is going to have to be my job to educate you in all things British," Holly paused, "or at least for as long as the rest of the lift ride is if I don't get the job."

Holly leaned back against the wall of the elevator and folded her arms, jacket hanging loosely over them, "So quick bullet points, tea is god's gift to earth, something that must be treasured above all costs don't let anyone tell you any different. Rugby is one of the best sports in the world and originated in England in the first half of the 19th century. It seriously is an amazing sport, and something we Brits are damn proud of, regardless of whether we are English, Welsh, Scottish or Irish."

She continued, "We spend an average ten months of our adult lives moaning about the weather, and I don't think we will ever apologise for that fact, and you have to have a certain level of sassy to you."

"I do believe I have a certain level of sassy Ms Potter, and the weather is entirely too cold today," Jarvis answered with more amusement than she had been expecting.

Holly smirked, "I like you, Jarvis. You would fit right in back in Britain."

"I do endeavour to be well-liked Ms Potter."

"I'm sure you do," Holly chuckled, "I'm sure you do."

The ding of the lift doors signalled that she had in fact reached her destination, or rather the lift had, and as they slid open Holly breathed.

"It has been a pleasure, Jarvis."

"Ms Hill is waiting for you in meeting room 104, and Ms Potter..." he paused, "Good luck."

"Thank you, Jarvis."

Holly stepped out of the elevator, her shoulders relaxing ever so slightly the tightly wound coil holding everything in place loosened.

She was still alert and ready for action, but her muscles were relaxed and more fluid for movement than rigid and fixed into place as it took every ounce of will she had not to slip into the darkest corners of her mind.

Holly couldn't help but wonder whether Jarvis had been monitoring her in the elevator and had seen the signs that signalled something wasn't right. And wasn't that an unnerving thought.

She was used to being under a watchful gaze, the Wizarding World had watched her every move for years, but Jarvis would be different. It meant that she had one more factor she would need to take into consideration when moving about the building.

Provided she got the job.

She really needed to ace this interview.

She needed to impress without being too impressive.

Holly walked in the direction of the meeting room that Jarvis had indicated to, knocked once on the door and waited for a somewhat firm voice calling her to enter.

Holly pushed open the door to the meeting room and stepped inside.

Maria Hill was a striking woman that commanded attention.

She was tall, with calculating eyes that settled on Holly the moment she entered.

She held herself in a way that told Holly she was used to being in charge and people following her orders. Hill reminded her very much of McGonagall, stern, fair, unforgiving to those that crossed her, and willing to do what needed to be done to keep those under her care safe.

Holly could feel the weight of the woman's gaze pressing down on her skin. Blue eyes weighing, judging as wheels spun around and around.

Hill was nothing if not professional, and whatever opinions were being formed she wisely kept to herself.

The woman indicated for her to take the seat.

Holly sat down, as Hill followed suit, her stomach churning and the spot between her shoulder blades itching ever so slightly, almost as if she was being watched, observed from a distance.

Holly ensured her mask was firmly in place, that she gave nothing away that she did not want to give away. Shrouding herself in an icy blanket that kept her safe from harm, indifferent and professional.

In control at all times.

Metaphysical hands pushed the doors to her magic firmly shut, so not a single thing leaked.

Hill may have been an impressive woman, a worthy opponent, but compared to the evil Holly had faced she wasn't somebody that would ever intimidate her.

Holly glanced around the room; it was minimalistic and had what looked to be a mirror along the length of a wall, it was probably a one-way mirror.

Holly couldn't help but wonder if someone was observing from the other side.

"Ms Potter, why do you think you would be good for the job?"

Holly tilted her head ever so slightly, as she thought about the question. Hill wasn't wasting any time; she was cutting right to the point, asking the direct questions and forgetting the warm-up.

Holly needed to give enough without revealing too much of her skill set, or where she learnt it from.

It was a tricky game, a play on words.

But everything depended on her answer.

"I am good with people. My previous role involved me working with highly sensitive matters and required me to keep my head on straight to deal with any potential threats that threatened those under my care."

Holly continued, "I know how to handle myself, and tackle a problem from all angles, even looking outside the box for solutions. I'm not afraid to get my hands dirty and get stuck in, in any task, I am required to do."

"Your previous employment, tell me what exactly was your role?" Hill asked.

"I worked for the Evans-Black Foundation. It was my job to ascertain the risks involved in regards to projects, locations of new projects and our extensive involvement within the community. We worked to help vulnerable people in getting a better life, a better future, and that unfortunately involved dealing with the darker accepts of human nature."

Among other things.

Not that she could say that allowed.

"An example?"

"Without breaching my previous contract NDA, we dealt with those that were exposed to drugs, gangs; human trafficking rings, to name just a few. The Foundation, for the most part, was seen as a good thing; however it did have its fair share of crossings with those less than pleased with our...interference."

Holly continued, "I still have my contacts across the world with the work I did with the foundation. Some are involved in less than savoury things."

And some are entirely magical, but that is another thing.

"And your reason for leaving?"

Holly's heart thumped loudly.

She gave a tight smile. The best lie was a lie filled with half-truths, and this was as close as it was going to get.

"I needed time to heal," Holly answered, not giving an indication exactly when she left.

As far as the muggle world was concerned, Holly Potter had been working across the globe for the Foundation and had left a year ago, after the incident.

Not that she had been acting as a ghost and that she had left her home close to just over three years ago.

"And you chose not to go back?"

"You have my records, you know what happened. I failed."

"Your records clearly indicate that it wasn't your fault, Ms Potter. That the circumstances were stacked against you and that you barely made it out alive."

Another half truth.

Her heart beat a little faster, her palms felt clammy, and she could feel a part of her stirring, raising its head from slumber and looking at Maria Hill with entirely too much curiosity than Holly liked.

Threat? It purred.

Holly pushed it down. She couldn't afford to lose control now.

Couldn't afford to show weakness.

"Tell me Ms Hill, do you in part blame yourself for the fiasco in DC nine months ago? Even though it wasn't your fault."

Maria Hill looked at her, her gaze hardening, but it was an answer in itself. Maria Hill had her own burden of guilt to live with, and so did she.

"You've done your research."

"I wouldn't say research, but Shield's fall was made rather public. Not that I hold much stock or faith in the media. They report what they want to report, and twist words easily enough to sway people's judgement," Holly answered, "I have no right to judge Shield, nor do I believe they are the enemies that the world now believes them to be."

"You would be one of the few."

"The world is always looking for a scapegoat, no matter how right or wrong. Of course what they have failed to realise is, just how deep Hydra's reach went. Haven't three Senators been arrested with their connection to the organisation?"

Hill eyed her curiously. As if she had just rearranged her puzzle pieces without telling her and Hill now had to start again in building the picture.

"Ms Potter, I won't lie you have quite the résumé, and the references alone are glowing enough."

Hill continued, "I am aware of your medical history, and I am also aware that you have fully healed. While we aren't out fighting every day like the Avengers, it is our job to offer support when it is required. That can, at times, be demanding. We are the support, in all aspects, information, driving, organising safe houses that we at least know about, along with any international feathers we have to smooth should the Avengers be required elsewhere," Hill said, "We shield them from all threats that they cannot or unable to shield themselves from."

"Shield, interesting choice of words, all things considered, Ms Hill," Holly said softly.

Hill didn't blink, but a glint flickered to life.

"I'm going, to be frank, Ms Potter; you have the skill set we need. But there are things I need to be certain of first."

"I respect frankness rather than spiralling around the issue," Holly admitted.

"Why do you want the job?"

Holly licked her lips, and looked up at the woman, "I can't stand injustice, and I can't stand bullies. I'm not a hero, I don't like the spotlight, I don't have super strength, and I can't fly in a metal suit. But I know they can't stand alone, and face what they need to face," Holly paused.

She continued, "We need them. Not to stop bank robbers or crimes that the police are trained to deal with. But the world-changing events or the world-ending, we need people who are willing to use their gifts to help others, and not simply seek more power. So I will help how I can, but you might want to keep me away from the press."

It wasn't exactly a lie, more like she was skirting around the truth. She may have spent almost a decade fighting Dark Wizards and winning a war, but Holly hadn't done it alone, and she certainly wasn't a hero. But what she was; was an Auror, who had training Hill couldn't even begin to dream about, who couldn't stand the idea of people abusing their power because they could, or because they sought more.

Hill's lips twitched ever so slightly, but she gave nothing else away to signal Holly's statement amused her.

"Are you inclined to take things, ask for autographs? Or creepily stare at Earth's mightiest heroes?"

"Can I phone a friend, or go fifty-fifty?" Holly replied without missing a beat, but from the look, Hill sent her way, she wasn't sure her attempt at a joke was appreciated, "No, to all three."

Hill smiled slightly, "You might just survive here. Potter, I am hiring you on a trial basis. We will see just how much of a fit you actually are."


X


"Ten."

Steve glanced up at Natasha, her fingers elegantly tapping away on the Stark pad in her hands, as images filled the larger screen in the room that most of them referred to as the War Room.

He felt Bucky tense at his side as his friend crossed his arms and glared at the offending screen with more coldness than was strictly necessary. Sam's eyes darted between the three of them, lingering a fraction longer on Bucky than was required, but his friend held a certain level of caution when dealing with the Soldier.

His teeth ground together, heat flushed through his body as his blood bubbled and his muscles quivered at the term.

Bucky wasn't the Winter Soldier, except that he was, and nine months of being free from Hydra's grip had not yet softened the razor-sharp edges that his friend radiated with every breath he took, with every move he made.

Predator.

Cold.

Calculating.

Ruthless.

Killer.

Except he was Bucky, and Bucky was so much more than what Hydra had made him. So much more than the darkness that he shrouded himself with.

Steve saw it in the briefest of flickers when a memory resurfaced and the man remembered.

Steve heard it in the whimpers, and the cries as the nightmares gripped him and wrapped around him, dragging him through whatever hell he had already lived through.

It was only upon waking, only upon a metal hand wrapped around his throat that Bucky's eyes glistened with unshed tears and whispered 'Stevie' that Steve knew Bucky was buried deep inside and he was clawing his way to the surface with every breath he took.

He was getting better.

But it was taking time.

Steve just wished that he would let him help in the way that Steve knew he could, that Bucky would allow the connection, the bonds form and solidify like they had once been so long ago. Golden and red threads of light that hummed in sync with their heartbeats were now dimmed and frayed and so very fragile.

Bucky glanced at him, cold eyes throwing an accusation his way even if he didn't voice it whenever Steve's thoughts turned to the bonds, to the marks, to them.

He shut down that trail of thought quickly, locked it up tight and reigned in his own instincts like he was gripping metal chains.

It would take time, he knew that.

At least he relaxed a little around Natasha, around Sam, even Clint but the others Bucky kept at a distance and Steve wasn't sure how he could force the issue and draw him further into their group, rather than staying on the fringes.

Except now wasn't the time to push the issue, not when Natasha's Intel was so damn important.

"How sure are you that the Intel is accurate?" he asked, unable to keep the bite from his tone.

Natasha looked up at him, raised an eyebrow questioningly, and held his gaze for a moment. They had worked together for three and half years, she knew him better than most. He didn't need to voice his concern aloud, and from the way, her eyes darted fleetingly between him and Bucky she had read his message loud and clear.

"Ninety-five per cent accurate. I can be very persuasive, and my mark was very talkative when the right kind of pressure was applied," she answered, with a glint in her eyes, that made him realise he really didn't want to know before the moment passed between them, and her face became carefully blank.

"Ten Hydra cells in New York, that can't be a coincidence," Sam added.

"It would be one hell of a coincidence if it was," Steve agreed, as he looked back at the locations they had been given.

"It's not a coincidence," Bucky rumbled, speaking for the first time since they had entered the room, "Hydra doesn't do coincidence. It makes coordinated attacks, plans within plans."

Steve watched as his friend moved closer to the large screen, and pointed to one of the locations, "I remember this particular hideout - it was used as a base for one of my missions in the 70s - can't remember much more...I'm sorry."

"It's enough," Steve cut across firmly, it was more than enough, "You have given us something concrete Bucky, and that's enough. You've confirmed at least one known location; we can have teams on the others for the time being, gather more information, before we make a move."

"Did your informative say exactly what they were doing in New York?" Sam asked, "I mean it's kind of suicidal being this close to Avengers Tower and everything."

"He didn't," Natasha stated, "It could be that they are testing the waters, seeing how good we react, seeing what we do. The Intel could even be a trap or, they could be planning something else."

"We will have to plan for all possible outcomes," Steve agreed, crossing his arms as he looked at the information again, "They are ten-man teams from what the intel is saying, but combined together it's a sizeable problem, especially with their training."

"Do you think its revenge - for outing them?" Sam asked.

"Against us, possibly, but they aren't in the position where the advantage goes to them to make their move right now," Steve replied.

"It's not exactly been kept a secret that I am here," Bucky said, sounding more defeated than Steve ever wanted to hear him.

"I won't let them have you again," he growled, and fuck it he wouldn't. He would tear anybody apart that tried to take Bucky from him again.

Bucky met his gaze head-on, his eyes shifting instinctively to that state of being that Steve was never able to achieve. The Winter Soldier was more than just a weapon for Hydra; he was the fucking apex predator that Hydra had kept on a leash.

"I will talk with Hill and Happy in regards to upping the security on the building, raising it to a level four," Natasha said softly, her tone offering calmness when all he could feel was a tightly wound ball of swirling emotions that was steadily getting tighter and tighter and the urge to just punch something became almost unbearable. "Plus Hill has hired extra staff today."

Steve turned to look at Natasha and barely hid the grimace, "How many?"

"All of the five candidates that interviewed today, they passed the background checks, and we are a little thin on the ground. Stark gave her a reasonable size budget," she answered, "The extra help will ease the burden of stakeouts and lookouts."

"Civilians," Bucky snorted.

"Four are former Shield agents; they stood with us at the Triskelion, worked with Hill before and are a little lost since the fall of Shield."

"We all know Shield isn't gone," Steve stated, throwing her a look.

Natasha shrugged, "Maybe they lost their faith a little."

"You mentioned four - the fifth is a civilian?" Sam asked.

"She wasn't Shield, and nor is she any of our government agencies. She's British, and seems to have enough skill to be able to take care of herself. Plus we can work with them to get their skill set up to a better level," Natasha replied with a shrug, "We need more support, and Hill is trying to get that for us. The security here is great, and the teams are good, but Happy is Stark's man through and through."

"Any of them Hydra?" Steve asked.

"They all came back clear with background checks, though -"

"There is no way to tell for definite," Bucky stated.

"It's a trial period at the moment, it gives us a chance to feel them out," Natasha replied.

"It's smart. Better to see the knife than have the knife in the back," Bucky argued.

"Only you would use that logic!" Sam protested.

"Knock it off you two," Steve warned, forcing the two of them to fall silent as they threw each other glares. There were days he wasn't sure who was worse, Sam or Bucky, both liked to provoke the other.

"We will deal with it as another day's problems. Right now, we need to focus on Hydra in New York."

"When are we telling the others?" Natasha asked, shifting on her feet.

"Tomorrow morning, Tony will be back from the West Coast as will Thor, and we need everyone on this, including Maria."

"In the meantime, we need to rest. You need to rest," Natasha declared, "You look exhausted."

"I'm fine."

"Don't make me drug you, Rogers."

He stifled a yawn.

"Maybe you're right."

She snorted in response, "I'm always right."

"We can figure our next move tomorrow, with everyone else. Jarvis, activate Privacy Protocols."

"Of course sir, Privacy Protocols activated, files secured," Jarvis chimed from the ceiling, "May I be so bold to arrange notifications in respect to tomorrow's meeting, Captain Rogers?"

"Please Jarvis, for nine am."

"Of course sir."

Steve watched as Natasha left first, Bucky following without so much as a glance in his direction, Steve could admit it hurt.

He wanted Bucky to talk to him. He needed to make everything better, for it to go back to the way it used to be. Effortless like breathing, they fitted; it had been them against the world. But now, they were shattered pieces, and Steve didn't know how to start putting them back together, and Bucky wasn't letting him in.

He didn't know how much longer he could stand on the sidelines.

"You need to give him time," Sam said softly, "I know it doesn't sit well with you. I know you have a complicated past, and I know it isn't an ideal situation to be in, I know it is difficult. But his recovery isn't about anyone else. It's about him, and he needs to heal at his own pace."

"I know," Steve sighed wearily, and fuck did he know that. He looked up at Sam, "Am I making it worse?"

"You aren't pushing the issue - which is good. But you look, all wishful and hopeful, and Bucky sees it. He doesn't say anything, but he sees it. I know...I know you are hurting Steve, but it isn't a personal attack on you," Sam paused, watching him closely.

His jaw clenched tightly as he tried to reign in everything he was feeling. He could feel them bubbling under the surface of his skin, threatening to explode.

He was in control.

He was in control.

He couldn't afford to be anything but in control.

He was Captain America, the one everybody looked to, turned to.

He couldn't afford to lose control, to fall apart.

What he felt he could, no he would carry that burden alone.

"His rejection isn't personal. Just be there for him, yes he is Bucky Barnes, your best friend, but see him as a person now. Get to know him now; don't just rely on your past. He doesn't remember who he was, or what was done to him, but it will start coming back to him and Bucky's going to need all the support he can get."

"And he will have it."

"And you need support. I'm always here. Bucky's recovery is about him, but that doesn't mean you have to hurt in silence either. I've got your back man."

Steve gave him a slight smile, "Thanks, but I'm fine. I'm -"

"The man with the plan. Yeah, I've heard that line before," Sam chuckled.

His smile widened a little, but even then it felt forced.

"I will leave you to your rest; don't stay up all night, Captain. We need you fighting fit for tomorrow's meeting."

"Yeah, I won't stay up much longer."

Sam nodded, reached for his shoulder and squeezed once before he left the room.

Steve glanced back at the screens, running a hand through his hair, his eyes narrowing as he reread over the information Natasha had gathered.

Hydra, an enemy that he had thought destroyed over seventy years ago, and had managed to survive, rebuild in the heart of an organisation that had claimed to protect the world.

The damage Hydra had done in the years it had been with Shield was extensive, unimaginable.

Events in the cold war.

The Cuban Missile crisis.

The 1979 Iranian Revolution.

The Gulf War.

And so many others.

Their fingers stirring the pots, rotting the world from the inside out, thriving in the chaos.

What was their motto, 'cut off one head, two more grow back' how did one kill something that re-grew heads?

How did one destroy an idea?

And wasn't that the question that spun around and around like a wheel.

Another yawn threatened to escape; he had been running on empty fumes for the last nine hours, perhaps he should get some rest.

Get some sleep, though he wasn't sure it was genuinely restful.

Too many memories stirring, too many feelings whirling around inside of him looking for an outlet.

Maybe he would go to the gym first, go a few rounds on the punch bag.


X


Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo - It is from Virgil, the great first century Roman poet. It can be translated in various ways, most literally, "If I cannot deflect the superior powers, then I shall move the River Acheron," and more commonly, "If I cannot bend the heavens, then I shall move the powers of hell."