Author's note: Thanks to sofiarose613, jerseydanielgibson, codedriver, ShannonK, birdy, FigurativelyDying, Tanya, girliemom and Guests for your reviews. That last chapter got quite the response! And thanks to everyone else who is reading, too.

5:07 p.m., December 16, 1991

"It's the Winter Soldier," Natty whispered over the comm, her voice thick with fear.

Steve and Peggy exchanged alarmed looks, both of them wearing earpieces that linked them up to Natty while they waited in the safe house not far from the Stark home. Mike and Tien were already in their own vehicle on the road behind her, listening in on the same channel.

"Natty, are you certain?" Peggy asked intently.

"I'm looking right at him," Natty said shakily. She was clearly at the edge of her control, breathing rapidly and speaking louder than she should, considering Tony Stark was right there in the car with her. For the first time, Steve felt a pulse of gratitude that Tony had gotten himself so drunk that he was blissfully unaware of the danger he was currently in. "He's in the back of the cop car!"

Steve could feel his heart begin to race. It made sense. Of course Bucky would be nearby. Within hours he was scheduled to be on a quiet road in Old Westbury only a few miles from here, lying in wait for Howard and Maria Stark. The moment Natty drove away in Tony's convertible, Brian Moran must have called him in for backup. He took a quick breath to steady his nerves.

"Natty, stay calm and listen to me," he said firmly. He understood her panic; she was only 17 and had never been in any real danger in her life, but he also knew that she was brave and clever and more than capable of rising to the occasion. "Tony was not in a car accident the same day as his parents. He wasn't kidnapped or attacked. Nothing happened to him at all. That means that as long as you stay in that car with him, you're safe."

"Just keep doing what you're doing, honey," Peggy chimed in. "You're doing great."

They heard Mike's voice come in over the comm then: "Tien, speed up. Catch up to him."

"Mike, do not engage Bucky," Steve said forcefully. "You're not a match for him."

"I don't have to fight him," Mike said calmly. "Just slow him down. Hydra never took Tony because we were here to stop it. Don't you think?"

Steve forced himself to modulate his voice. "Yes, I see that. But be careful. We don't know what happened to you."

"Move into the left lane," he heard Mike say, and Tien responded in a tense voice, "What do I do? Ram the car?"

"No. No ramming," Mike said firmly. "You're just going to tap their rear left bumper with your front right bumper. They're going to spin out and you're going to keep going down the road. Natty, as soon as we do it, hit the gas and get Tony to his house as fast as you can. Don't worry about speed limits."

Natty's voice was shaky but clear. "Okay."

"Please tell me you have your gun, Mikey," Peggy said, unconsciously leaning forward as she spoke into the receiver. Steve could tell by the look on her face that she was completely unaware she had just slipped into calling their son by his old childhood nickname, something she had not done in years.

"It's in my hand," came Mike's calm reply, "but I'd rather not use it if I can help it. There are civilians around. Tien, wait until we get through this intersection."

There was a long pause. Then: "Go! Go! Do it!"

They heard Tien make a low wordless sound, and then there was a loud metallic crunch, followed by the squeal of tires.

"Help me!" Tien shouted suddenly.

"I got it! I got it!" Mike shouted. Tires squealed again. "No, don't slow down! We're under control now. Don't slow, Tien. We don't want to be in gunshot range."

"Mikey?" Peggy said tensely.

"We got 'em," Mike said briefly. "Their car spun out, it's on the side of the road. Natty, don't stop until-"

A loud bang sounded in their earpieces, making both Peggy and Steve jump. And then suddenly there was a cacophony of noise: someone crying out wordlessly, and a sustained crunch and groan and screech of metal that seemed to go on for an eternity.

Finally, it stopped. There was a long, tense silence.

"Mike?" Steve asked.

There was no reply.

"Tien?"

Silence.

"Mikey!" Steve said sharply. Peggy's hand was gripping his as tightly as a vice.

"They wrecked!" Natty's voice burst through the comm. She was crying. "I saw- I saw- they, they rolled down a hill. Behind me. They rolled- I can't see them anymore!"

"Did someone hit them?" Steve demanded. Beside him, Peggy seemed frozen into silence.

"No, there wasn't anyone there!" came Natty's reply. "They just started swerving for no reason, and then-"

"Keep your voice down," he reminded her automatically. "Maybe their tire was shot out." He suddenly found he was able to push through the shock and function again. Bucky had always been good at the long-distance shots.

"Do I stop?" Natty asked, managing to bring her voice back down to a shaky whisper. "I should go back and find them, right?"

"No," Steve said firmly. "It's your job to keep Tony safe. It's our job to find your parents. Just keep going. Did you see where they went off the road?"

Natty took a deep breath. "By a golf course."

"Which one?" Peggy asked, leaning forward. "There's more than one on that road."

"I don't know. I don't know!"

"Slow down," Steve said quietly. "Think back. What did you see?"

There was a brief silence. Then: "I saw… I saw a row of golf carts parked. They had blue crabs painted on the sides."

"Crab Meadow Country Club," Peggy said promptly from beside him. She picked up the phone and started dialing.

"You can't call 911," Steve said quickly.

"I know," Peggy said tersely, forestalling him. "We don't know if the real emergency services will come, or the Hydra counterfeits. I'm calling Sarah. If she can open a portal-"

"She needs a visualization."

"Maybe she can find one. There must be photographs."

It was a big "if," and they both knew it.

"Natty?" Steve said into the comm. "Keep driving. We'll get Aunt Sarah, she'll handle it. She'll find them."

"What do I do when I get to the Starks?" Natty asked.

"We're going to meet you there," Steve said, and Peggy quickly nodded her agreement as she slid her gun off the table and holstered it with one hand, phone cradled between her ear and her shoulder. He felt sick at the thought of getting into their car and driving away from Mike and Tien instead of toward them, and he knew Peggy felt the same, but it had to be this way. "We need to stay focused on protecting Tony. Bucky's not gonna stop of his own accord."

Sarah and Dave had long been in the habit of cooking up a storm on the weekends to stock the freezer with meals so that they could focus on their work during the week, and tonight it had turned out to be an even wiser decision than usual.

With eight kids in the house instead of the usual five — and most of them teens and pre-teens with big appetites — they had put not one but two pans of lasagna in the oven, and now Dave was up to his elbows in butter making a pile of garlic bread, while Sarah was busy putting an extra leaf in the table and bringing in more chairs from the garage.

The younger kids — her own Steven, Amanda and Joe, along with Mike's Sammy and Clint — were down in the family room watching "Home Alone," and from the sound of it, Kevin McAllister was just starting his mad dash toward the church to take sanctuary from the Wet Bandits.

Maggie had watched the movie with them for a while, but eventually she had slipped away and offered to help with dinner. She was even quieter than usual as she chopped the vegetables for a salad; her mind was clearly on her cousin Natty and the unplanned mission she had been sent on. Maggie had always treated Natty as more of a sister than her own sister, which made Sarah a little sad, but Amanda's personality was so much louder and more forceful than anyone else in their family that she understood why Maggie had trouble connecting with her.

Bram and Harrison, on the other hand, had disappeared upstairs; Harrison had been in a noticeably bad mood when he had arrived, and once the younger kids had gotten absorbed in the movie, it hadn't taken much coaxing for him to tell the rest of them with a scowl that his parents had once again refused to let him ride along for the mission.

"They're just picking up Natty from the airport," Bram had said reasonably. "You probably wouldn't have even gotten a glimpse of Tony."

"It isn't about seeing him," Harrison had said irritably. "It's about being backup for Dad if something goes wrong. He used to do things like this with a whole team behind him, you know? S.H.I.E.L.D.'s such a mess now, it's up to us to do it. As a family. And don't tell me I'm too young. Natty's only two years older, and they didn't even hesitate to send her."

Bram would calm him down, Sarah knew. He always did.

The phone rang, and Sarah sighed with exasperation, both arms burdened with chairs, but she put them down and then went over to answer it.

"Sarah?"

"Oh, hi, Mom," she replied. "Is Natty back?"

"Drop everything and put Maggie in charge of the kids. I need you this instant."

Sarah froze at her mother's tone. "Why? What's happened?"

Her mother explained succinctly.

5:13 p.m., December 16, 1991

Mike opened his eyes slowly.

He saw trees. Bare-branched trees that stood in dark contrast to the pale winter sky. The air was frosty, but the slanting rays of the setting sun were warming his back. That was pleasant. His cheek was pressed into the cold dirt, and his arm was twisted awkwardly underneath him, which was less pleasant.

With a grimace, Mike pushed himself up slightly and got his arm free, but even that slow movement triggered a sudden stab of pain at the crown of his head. He reached up and gingerly felt the top of his head. It was definitely tender, but there wasn't any blood when he pulled his hand away and looked at it. He squinted in confusion. What had happened? How did he get here?

He turned his head painfully and looked the other way… and froze in horror.

That was his minivan on the grass. Black smoke streaming out from under the dented hood. It was right side up, but it was smashed up on both sides, and the roof, too. Shattered windshield, with a big hole right in front of the passenger seat. Someone had been ejected from the van, and judging by the sharp pain in his skull, it had probably been him.

"Tien." Mike's lips formed the name, but not a sound came out.

His vision was a little fuzzy, but he could see her through the spiderweb of cracks in the windshield. Still in the driver's seat. She was slumped over the steering wheel, her face obscured by a curtain of dark hair.

She wasn't moving.

A jolt of alarm shot through him, and he started to push himself up on his hands and knees, but his eye was drawn by movement: a pair of black boots walking toward him at a leisurely pace. For a second, he felt an intense relief. Someone had seen the accident. Someone was coming to help.

Then he remembered why they had crashed in the first place. His eyes slid up, and widened at what he saw. Black pants. Black jacket. Black mask. Black goggles.

The Winter Soldier.

Mike had almost managed to scramble to his feet when the Soldier reached him, grabbed him, and hurled him bodily through the air. All his breath left him in a rush as his back struck the trunk of a tree, and then he hit the ground hard, mouth opening in a silent grunt of pain.

The Soldier didn't even bother checking him. Just turned around and strode toward the minivan casually. He was heading for the driver's side. For Tien.

A wild desperation surged through Mike's veins, and without hesitation he pushed through the pain and the shock and staggered to his feet. The Soldier was almost to the door. All it would take was a single blow. No time to catch up to him, and Mike found that his holster was empty; his gun was nowhere to be seen. His eyes darted around and spotted one of his vehicle's tires lying on the ground nearby.

He grabbed it, whirled around, and heaved.

The tire struck the Soldier squarely in the back, and he sprawled to the ground, but instantly turned the fall into a roll, rising smoothly to his feet and then turning slowly to look in Mike's direction. His eyes were invisible behind those dark goggles, but Mike thought he almost detected a sense of surprise in his body language.

"Leave her alone," Mike growled through clenched teeth.

There was no reply, at least not a verbal one. The Soldier simply turned his back on the smoking remains of the minivan and started to walk back toward Mike. It was what he wanted, but it was also not what he wanted, either. Putting his fists up in guard position, Mike's mind raced back over everything his dad had ever told him about the Winter Soldier. Maybe it wasn't hopeless. Dad had been able to hold his own against the Soldier, and Mike had learned how to fight from him.

But he knew his own limits. He wasn't as strong as his dad. And unlike Dad, the Winter Soldier had no memories of Mike, buried or otherwise, to dredge up in an effort to snap him out of his implacably murderous mindset.

"Mike? Is that you?"

Mike froze. That was Dad's voice in his ear. His earpiece was still functioning. He had completely forgotten it was there.

"Dad?" he said with a hint of sheepishness. "You know that thing you told me not to do?"

"Mike…" Dad said with a warning tone.

"I'm about to do it." He took a deep breath and let it out. "For Tien."

Sarah hung up the phone and turned toward Maggie. She and Dave were both looking at her curiously, but they'd only heard her side of the conversation.

"Maggie, go get the younger kids," Sarah said tersely. "Tell them to get their shoes and coats on, get them loaded into the van."

"Where am I taking them?" she asked with a frown, knife still hovering over the cutting board, tomatoes forgotten.

"Anywhere. I don't care. Take them to see the lights. Take them for ice cream. You can take my purse. Just don't let them know anything's wrong."

"Why, what is wrong?" she asked, blue eyes wide.

"Quickly, please!" Sarah leaned over and turned off the oven as Maggie whirled to obey. "Dave, get the boys from upstairs. I need the three of you to dig up a photograph for me. It's an emergency."

Dave knew better than to ask questions, he just took the stairs two at a time, calling: "Bram! Harrison!"

Sarah could hear Maggie shutting off the movie and directing the kids to get their shoes on, explaining that an important business call was expected at any moment and they needed to leave the house for a while so her mom and dad could hear themselves think, and she did it so calmly and confidently that the kids were actually complying with a minimum of fuss.

The older boys came downstairs with Dave, and after Sarah gave them a few hastily whispered words of instruction, Harrison ran to dial up the modem to see if Crab Meadows Country Club had a website, while Bram rushed up to his room, explaining breathlessly that he'd gotten a brochure from a bio sciences college on Long Island, and maybe they would have included photographs of nearby attractions to entice students to enroll. Meanwhile, Sarah was frantically flipping through a stack of magazines, hoping and praying that somewhere there would be an ad for the golf course in question and already fearing that there wouldn't be. But what else could she do? The sling ring was heavy in her pocket; by car Mike and Tien were hours away, but she could be there in moments if she only had a visualization. Mom and Dad had to focus on keeping Tony safe — the safety of the planet, the universe, depended on it — and that meant that if she couldn't rescue her brother and sister-in-law now, maybe no one could. Her heart was a drumbeat in her chest.

"Mom?"

She glanced up distractedly from the magazine she was rifling through with sweaty fingers. Maggie was ushering Amanda, Joe, Sammy and Clint into the garage where the van was parked, Amanda and Clint arguing loudly about where they should go for ice cream, but Steven was standing there with his winter coat in one hand and a string of well-worn rosary beads dangling from the other. He looked at Sarah silently, and there was a wealth of questions in his eyes.

"Steven!" Maggie said from the doorway, her tone sharpening for the first time. "Mom's busy!"

Sarah's eyes flicked down to the rosary beads and back up to Steven's face. He nodded almost imperceptibly and turned to go, glancing back one last time as Maggie put her arm around his shoulders, fairly pulling him into the garage and then slamming the door shut.

"They don't have a website!" Harrison called out from the office just then, but Sarah wasn't particularly surprised by that; the internet was still so young, plenty of businesses hadn't seen the use of it yet.

"No good here, either," Bram said in disappointed tones, jogging down the stairs with the college brochure crumpled in his fist.

Sarah exhaled noisily, trying not to despair. "Help me go through these-" she started, when Dave walked back into the room and silently held a photograph in front of her face.

It was the Crab Meadow Country Club.

"Where did you get this?" she gasped, snatching it from him and immediately setting herself to memorizing the details.

"There's a job opening at Cold Spring Harbor Laboratory I was invited to apply for," Dave said. "They have discounted memberships at the golf course for their employees."

Confusion managed to pierce through her desperation to get to Mike and Tien. "What?"

"I'd just about talked myself out of it," he said calmly. "It's more money, but I knew you wouldn't want to uproot the whole family and move to New York."

Sarah quickly waved her hand in his direction; he was right, but she couldn't think about that now. She grabbed her sling ring and ran outside, holding the photograph up to study and then realizing she'd need both hands to conjure. But Bram was already at her elbow, taking the photograph and holding it up for her. Dave and Harrison hovered in the background, watching.

Sarah took a deep breath and slid the sling ring onto her fingers, fixing her gaze on the photograph. "Here goes."

TO BE CONTINUED

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