Alright, back for Round Three. Things get pretty intense here, and we get to see John Walker in all his douchy, impulsive glory. Yaayyyyy. Also, Christy gets to be me, vicariously insulting Walker and showing that KILLING IS RARELY THE ANSWER YOU IDIOT.

Dialogue from the show belongs to Marvel. Dialogue not from the show is mine. Zemo is still not here. I'm still not sorry.

Chapter Three: The Poorest Worker Bartered Through the Years

"I cannot believe you talked us into coming." Bucky muttered, glaring at the lithe, blonde figure beside him.

"I can." Sam said. "You took less convincing than me."

Christy shrugged. "Is it my fault that my only Friday class got cancelled and I had a long weekend?"

In answer, both her 'uncles' rolled their eyes.

They were currently holed up in a palatial safe house, somewhere in Riga, Latvia. Intel had traced the Flag-Smashers here to a large camp of Blip-displaced people. A woman named Donya Madani, a mother-figure in this camp, had recently died, and Karli Morgenthau was somehow tied to her. Natasha had given them the address as a place to lay low-and she had assured them it would be empty.

Neither Natasha, nor Sharon, had been able to come along. But Christy had stealthily inserted herself into their reluctant duo-making it a very-reluctant trio.

"Remind me why I said yes to you coming?" Bucky muttered, checking his phone for any updates on their quarry.

"Because I've trained for this, and I'm good at dealing with crazy people? That's literally my title-Crazy-Fixer. Well, it's what Dad called me, anyway. But I'm good at making people talk."

Bucky hmphed, but said nothing more. He couldn't deny it, and neither could Sam.

"Just promise me you won't get yourself killed." Sam said, more for the sake of saying it than anything else. He knew that Christy had trained hard, but it was still unnerving thinking of someone he'd known from a child as a battle-partner.

"Sir, yes, sir." Christy said, flipping a salute, before sprawling across an ancient, striped couch and checking her pistol.

"Sam." Bucky said, looking up from his phone.

"What?"

"Karli bombed a GRC supply depot."

Sam froze and sat up. "Why? What's the damage?"

"Eleven wounded, three dead. They have a list of demands and are promising more attacks if those demands aren't met.

Sam was across the floor in two strides. The phone screen looked ablaze as a video clip showed a fiery explosion.

"She's getting worse." he said quietly, watching the clip.

"She's a kid." Christy echoed. "She's like my age. What does she think she's playing at? That serum is dangerous, and no one is going to like her if she keeps blowing up stuff."

Bucky crossed his arms. "She's radicalized. She sees problems and thinks the only way to fix them is with strength and violence."

Sam shook his head. "Okay, so she's radicalized, but there has to be a peaceful way to stop her."

"And what if she doesn't want the peaceful way?" Bucky replied. "What if she refuses to back down? What if she tries to kill us?"

"...then that's her fault." Christy said, with an old, steely look in her eyes. "But we have to try and talk to her. Then we can say we tried."

"My protégé." Sam mumbled. Louder, he added, "The only problem is, we don't know where she's going to be."

Christy peered out of the grimy, streaked window. "Maybe we should poke around for a while and see what we can find out."

"Not a bad idea, kid." Bucky said grudgingly.

Sam hunched over a wooden counter. "Okay, from my understanding, Donya Madani was like a pillar of the community. When I was a kid my TT-my aunt-died and the whole neighborhood turned out. We had a big funeral, and everything lasted at least a week. Maybe they're doing the same thing for Donya-and maybe Karli will show up."

Bucky narrowed his eyes in contemplation. "Worth a shot. Now we just gotta find out where the funeral will be."

"Exactly. Let's split a little. Christy, you stay with Bucky. I'll go another way. Let's go to that big house across the street, where people are holed up. Nat said it was home to a lot of displaced persons."

Christy nodded, slipping her gun into a deep but unobtrusive holster-Shuri patented and approved. No sense in scaring anyone.

They walked across the street, into a strange, solemn courtyard. Some kids were playing on the cobblestones, and they stopped to stare at the strangers. Workers carted supplies, and one man sat at a table chopping vegetables. The wailing sound of sirens pealed in the distance.

"I'm gonna go see what I can find out upstairs." Sam muttered. "See what you can find out here."

Bucky nodded, and awkwardly began to ask around, if anyone had heard of Donya Madani. Everyone mostly just shook their heads and stared into space.

Christy felt frustration build inside her. They were never going to get anywhere. None of these people would trust outsiders.

She shifted her weight, and felt something else shift in her backpack.

No...no way it could be that easy.

Keeping one eye on the other adults in the courtyard, and one eye on the kids that were her target, she sat down on a wooden stool near to them.

Slowly, she took out the jumbo bag of Life Savers that she had carted all the way across the ocean. If they worked with Jamie, maybe they could work with these kids, too.

A few kids caught the rustle, and were trying to pretend they didn't see.

Step one, candy. Step two…

Christy clicked on an app and let the strains of a familiar song release through the tiny speaker.

Nathaniel liked this one, and so did Anish. It was old, but good.

"First things first

I'ma say all the words inside my head

I'm fired up and tired of the way that things have been, oh-ooh

The way that things have been, oh-ooh

Second thing second

Don't you tell me what you think that I could be

I'm the one at the sail, I'm the master of my sea, oh-ooh

The master of my sea, oh-ooh…"

Like magic, the kids were drawn to this strange girl who spoke two universal languages: sweets and music.

"You can have one." Christy said, handing out Life Savers. "My brother likes these."

The kids were slow at first. But curiosity and desire soon won them over.

Christy caught Bucky's eye and winked. Bucky sighed.

Always go for the easy target, huh, kid? Alright, I'm glad we brought you along.

One girl with light brown hair and a gray coat edged closer to peer into the bag. Christy felt her heart clench.

"You look like my cousin." she said, smiling sadly. "Her name's Wanda."

The girl's eyes widened, big and brown. "My name is Milena."

"I'm Christy. You want a candy, Milena? What color?"

"...green one, please?"

"Sure!" Christy dug several green candies from the bag. "Green's my favorite, too."

Milena looked nervous. "I only need one. You keep your favorite."

"No, it's okay. My dad says you should always give away good things, especially things you like. Here, go on."

Milena hesitantly reached out and took the candy.

"Do you think you could tell me something, Milena? I heard someone named Donya Madani died. She sounds like she was a nice lady. I wanted to pay respect to her. Do you know where the funeral will be?"

Milena nodded. "I know. I will go. Mama Donya was very kind."

"Can you tell me?"

Milena leaned over and whispered something in Christy's ear. Christy smiled.

"Thanks. I have to go find my uncle, he's worried about me. But do you think you could do one more thing? Can you make sure this candy goes to kids who need it?"

Milena nodded enthusiastically. Christy laughed and handed her the bag.

"Here you go."

She watched Milena skip away to divide up the spoils with her friends. But she couldn't push away the nudge inside her.

What's one bag of candy going to do? They'll be happy for a little bit, but they need teachers, food, housing...and all of that takes money. They need people to stick around, not just bring candy and leave. We can't just say 'Flag Smashers bad' and then have no alternative…

She sighed. She didn't have an answer yet. But she did have a mission to complete.

Sam and Bucky stood where they had entered the courtyard.

"We can go." Christy said quietly.

"Did you find out?" Sam asked, looking incredulous.

"I told you she would." Bucky muttered. His expression was somewhere between proud and annoyed. "They flocked to her like the damn Pied Piper."

"Language." Christy said, overly sweet. "And yes, I know. Let's go."

Sam shook his head, but started them out of the courtyard, back to their safe house.

They had several things to think about.

"If I'd've had any idea…"

"Steve, believe me, no one wanted you to have any idea. Least of all the people responsible."

They sat on the couch: the Man out of Time and the Spy of Spies. Sharon had taken one look at the situation, and bundled up Jamie to go to the nearest playground.

Steve leaned into his hand and slumped. "I mean...should we go see him?"

"We?" Fury shook his head. "I know you have a death wish as a general rule, Cap, but this guy has is not going to take kindly to the Star Spangled Man showing up on his doorstep."

Steve huffed. "I wouldn't wear the suit." he muttered.

Fury sighed. "I know. But I mean it. He probably wouldn't let you in. Hell, I don't even know if he'll let me in. But I have a better shot than you."

Steve glanced down at his pale arm, lightly sprinkled with golden hair.

"I didn't ask for this, you know."

Fury raised his own arm, pointedly. "And I didn't ask for this. And you didn't make the system, and neither did I, but we're stuck in this game until the game breaks open. All we can do is acknowledge the system, and then do better."

"I hate games. Guess that's why I'm not a spy."

"No, you'd be a pretty bad spy." Fury leaned back. "I'll go talk to him. And I'll let you know how it goes."

Steve nodded. "Look, I'll do anything. If he wants money or needs any help, I've got more than enough…"

Fury held up his hand. "If my suspicions are correct, he probably just wants to be left alone. No 'help' also means no trouble. And he's had enough trouble to last a lifetime."

"...then should we-you-go at all?"

Fury paused, and then spoke slowly.

"Wise men know their times. They know when to act and when to hold their peace. It's never been the right time before. But now the cracks are in the foundation. And people have a right to know the truth."

"'Take your stand by the River of Truth and tell the whole world: 'no, you move'.'" Steve quoted softly. "No more secrets. No more lies."

And Fury, despite being the Spy of Spies, nodded in agreement.

Fury found the address easily. And he was smart enough to park his car several streets away and walk. Nothing was more terrifying to a person than having an unknown car park in front of your house.

He was wearing street clothes, a beat up gray hoodie covering his face. He still wore an eyepatch, but not tie-dye today.

He rapped on the door, and a teenage boy peered through the screen and dirty blue gate.

"Who is it?" he asked, tone wary.

"Does somebody named Isaiah live here?" Fury asked. "Isaiah Bradley?"

"Go 'way." the boy said instantly. "He doesn't wanna talk to anybody."

Fury had been prepared for this. So he said, "Tell him someone wants to ask about a bar fight in Goyang. He'll know what that means."

The boy scoffed, audibly, but disappeared into the house. He came back a few minutes later.

"Guess it's your lucky day." he said. "He said he wants to see for himself."

Fury nodded politely and entered the brick house. A man stood in the living room area, nearly ramrod straight, despite his clear advanced age. Fury guessed the man had about two decades on him.

"Isaiah?" he asked.

Isaiah nodded, his face a mask of calm. But his limbs shook with suppressed emotion. "You here about Goyang?"

"I just wanted to know what happened. I found out some things. Like that you fought the Winter Soldier."

Isaiah snorted. "If by 'fought,' you mean 'whooped his ass,' then, yeah. We heard whispers that he was on the peninsula. But everyone they sent after him never came back. So the U.S. Military dropped me behind the line to go 'deal with him'. I took half that metal arm in that fight in Goyang. But I see from the news that he's managed to grow it back. Thought you might be him, come to kill me. Guess not."

"He's not doing that, anymore." Fury said. "He's not a killer. Not like that."

"You think you can just wake up and decide who you wanna be? It doesn't work like that! Well, maybe for folks like him it does."

Fury sighed, deeply. "Isaiah, the reason I'm here is...is because there's more people like you out there, right now. Kids shootin' themselves up with this serum like it's cocaine. And we need to know how."

"I don't wanna talk about it." Isaiah picked up a small metal box from the table and impaled it straight into the wall. The teenaged boy tensed and closed his eyes.

Fury blinked, and decided to save his shock for later.

"You know what they did to me, for being a hero? They put my ass in jail for 30 years! People, running tests, taking my blood, coming into my cell! And even now, they can't leave me in peace!"

"I'm not here to take your blood or run tests." Fury replied.

"No, but you-you're part of them! You're in the system! SHIELD, HYDRA, whatever they call themselves. You were with them! I recognize you."

"I was with them, until I found out what they were. And now my only job is looking out for my own. People I know, and trust. I'm here to help you, Isaiah. I'm on your side."

Isaiah scoffed. "Ain't nobody on my side, 'cept me."

"...Steve is."

Isaiah narrowed his eyes. "Steve who?" he hissed.

"You know damn well 'Steve who'." Fury replied, voice even.

"I don't need anything from him, or his kinda folks, you hear me?! I don't want him anywhere near my property. I don't got nothin' t' say to him!"

"He had no idea…"

"Well, that doesn't give me my life back!" Isaiah's voice broke, slightly. "It doesn't fix anything! So g'wan, get! You got what you came for."

Fury gave a long, slow nod. "I'll leave. Thank you for your time."

He exited the house and listened to the soft snick of the lock turn in the door, before letting out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding.

Aimlessly, he walked back to his car. His phone buzzed to life, and he answered it almost without thinking.

"Fury."

"Did it go like you thought?"

It was Sharon.

"Yeah...you could say that."

"Are you hurt?"

"I'm fine."

"On the outside, anyway." Sharon muttered.

"Steve shouldn't ever come here. Isaiah's too hurting to talk. He barely let me in the house."

Sharon sighed. "I figured. Did you learn anything?"

"Just that all my research was correct. He didn't want anything. Just to be left alone."

"Are you going to tell Sam and Bucky?"

"Should I be the one to do it?"

Sharon paused. "...I think it would be the best, coming from you. But Steve should be there."

"Fine. I will. When are they back from Latvia?"

"In a couple of days, hopefully."

"I'll be around then."

"...take care of yourself, Nick. Our place is always open if you need it."

"Thank you, Sharon. That means a lot. But I need some quiet right now."

"Understood. Just take care."

"I will. Fury, out."

He instantly pushed the 'end call' button, and approached his car. He unlocked it, sat down, locked it, and slumped forward on the wheel.

Nicholas J. Fury sometimes felt he had seen all that the world could throw at him. But this?

This wasn't Thanos, or Loki, or the Kree, or Skrulls. But it was something more familiar and terrifying.

And unlike any of those extr-terrestrial threats, there was no clear plan of attack.

In a Latvian graveyard, a young woman with fiery curls, and a young, dark-haired man knelt by a stone grave. The young man knew it well.

They pulled aside a stone, and took out a small, black bag, designed to be worn around the waist.

Little did they know, they were not alone.

Christy had been doing her own sleuthing. And after seeing a figure that resembled the one from the news in the street, she had followed her to the graveyard, and climbed up a tree to watch the proceedings.

"Do you think I'm making a mistake, making more of us?" the girl asked.

Her companion glanced at the grave. "My grandfather, Lukasz, he was a World War resistance fighter. He always used to tell me, 'if you're scared to do something, you're probably right'. And he fought Nazis, so…"

From her hiding place, Christy heaved a soundless sigh.

How can such good advice go so wrong?

"You know," the man continued, "When I was a kid, I was a big Captain America fan."

Karli smiled. "I don't know if I should tease you about that yet or not."

"He made me believe that there were still decent people in the world. I didn't think there could be another Captain America until I met you."

Internally, Christy felt a shot of annoyance.

What's Frizzy Longstocking done but blow things up?

"You know, back then, there was just good and bad. But the world's more complicated now. People are lost. They need a leader who looks like them, and understands their pain. Someone who understands that today's heroes don't have the luxury of keeping their hands clean. What we're doing will outlive the legacy of that shield."

Karli scoffed. "That shield is a monument to a bygone era. A reminder of all the people history just left out. If anything, that shield should be destroyed."

She stood up and fastened the pack around her waist.

"This serum is how we make change. But first, we pay our respects to Mama Donya."

They left, the man making a small sign of the cross towards the grave.

Christy waited until they were firmly gone, before slipping down from the tree. She walked to the grave and clumsily crossed herself.

"Sorry." she mumbled. "Not Catholic. Only seen it in movies. Thank you for your service, sir. My dad fought Nazis, too."

She sighed.

"And maybe I'm crazy to talk to a dead man, but I'm so confused. And angry. How can one thing that means the world to me, mean such a horrible thing to other people? And how do we fix it? How do I fix it? That Shield is my legacy, too. And I refuse to have it mean violence and hate. I want it to mean that justice is coming. That's what Dad fought for. That's what Sam is fighting for. And that's what I wanna fight for, too."

The stone grave remained, unyielding. A monument to those who had risen up to fight evil. It had seemed so simple when she was young. But the older she'd gotten, the more she had learned that enemies could be complex, and that sometimes there was no right answer.

But somehow, standing before the grave of someone who had fought the biggest and oldest bogeymen she knew, one thing became clear.

"I can't make her think differently." Christy whispered. "But I'll make sure to show that there's another side to that Shield. A good side. And that will be my legacy."

She nodded at the grave, and turned to leave. She had a funeral to attend.

"Karli Morgenthau is too dangerous for you guys to be pulling this shit!"

Christy had to stifle a laugh, even as her body instinctively stiffened at the threat.

John Walker and Lemar Hoskins walked down a set of stone stairs, just as Sam, Bucky, and Christy rounded the corner from the safe house.

"Ah!" Bucky said, spreading his hands wide. "How'd you find us now?"

"Come on, you think two Avengers can walk around Latvia without attracting attention?" Lamar said.

"Enough of the games." Walker said. "And who the hell is this?"

"Christy Rogers." Christy replied, with a look that resembled honeyed poison.

Walker did a double take, momentarily speechless.

"Yes, I'm related to Steve Rogers, yes, I am adopted, no, I do not have serum. And yes, I can fight." Christy rattled off in succession.

"You brought a kid?" Walker said.

"I'm an adult, and I brought myself." Christy replied, feeling the sweet tinge of victory that accompanied the word 'adult'. "Besides, I know where Karli is."

Walker blinked. "Well...where?"

"All we know is, it's a memorial." Sam said.

"That means civilians, high risk of casualties." Lamar said to Walker.

They all turned and began walking up the street.

"Okay, good." Walker said. "We'll move in fast, take her by surprise."

"No, I wanna talk to her alone." Sam cut in.

"I'm not losing her again."

"Look, the person closest to her died, she's vulnerable. If there's any time to reason with her, it's now."

"Whoa, wait, hold on, stop!" Walker maneuvered himself to the front of their group. "I think we're way past reasoning with her, unless you forget the fact that she blew up a building with people in it!"

"Sam, if you go in there cold, she could kill you, man." Lamar added softly.

"And if I go in there hot, and the op goes wrong, more people could die."

Walker glared at Bucky. "Are you gonna let him do this? Are you gonna let your partner walk into a room with a Super Soldier alone?"

"He's dealt with worse." Bucky said. "And he's not my partner. I'm his. He calls the shots."

Christy folded her arms and nodded firmly.

"Look, I used to counsel soldiers dealing with trauma, okay? This is right in my wheelhouse."

"I know, and I know those soldiers, which is why I know this will not end well…"

"John." Lamar cut in. "If he can talk her down, it might be worth a try."

Walker sighed. "Fine. Fine. We'll do it your way." He glanced at Christy, "As for you…"

"I'm sure everything will work out fine." Christy broke in swiftly. "Now, if you would follow me, gentlemen, my associate is this way."

Leaving two confused and two proud but annoyed men behind her, Christy walked up the cobbled hill toward Milena, who stood at the street corner-their arranged meeting place.

Christy pulled out a wad of bills, withdrawn fresh that afternoon. "Hi, Milena. This is for your family. Can you show us the way?"

Milena looked at the group warily, but nodded.

Bucky glanced back at Walker, who was looking incredibly put out, and gave a triumphant smirk at Sam. Sam shook his head, but he was smiling as well.

Sometimes love wins the day.

Milena led them to the house where the funeral was being conducted, and showed them a back door entrance.

Sam and Bucky shared a look.

"Christy, come with me." Sam ordered. "Bucky…"

"I got it." Bucky said, glancing at Walker.

"You got ten minutes." Walker said tersely. "And then we're doing this my way."

Christy opened her mouth to protest, but Sam took her arm and led her through the door and up a flight of stairs.

"Not a word, unless it feels right. Let me lead. Understand?"

"Yes, sir." Christy whispered.

They could hear a voice speaking, as they climbed the stairs to an upper balcony. Christy recognized the voice as Karli's.

"I don't remember my parents. Same for my brothers, sisters, grandparents. What I do remember is bein' alone. Worse than bein' hungry or cold. Like a lot of you, Mama Donya saved me."

The words pierced into Christy's soul like an arrow.

I remember being cold and alone, too. Too many times. And I had a Mama Donya, too. We're not so different, you and me.

They could both see Karli's eyes widen, as she caught sight of them (mostly Sam) in the balcony. She handed a toddler to his mother and finished her speech. As people moved forward to pay their respects, she slipped silently to the front of the casket and bowed her head.

She remained there until all the mourners began to clear out. Only then did Sam and Christy make their way down.

"I saw you there." she called out.

"We came alone." Same responded, arms spread. Christy did the same. "Just wanna talk."

Karli shifted. "Bold of you."

"We're sorry for your loss." Christy said. "I'm sorry, especially. I know what it's like, to be saved by someone when you have nothing."

Karli frowned. "And who are you, exactly?"

"I'm Christy. He's my uncle."

Karli frowned. "Your uncle?"

"Yup. We have a very strong family resemblance. Especially when it comes to helping people."

"It doesn't have to be a war, Karli." Sam said.

Karli shook her head. "They started a war the minute they kicked us out of our new homes and onto the street. People all around the world need me, millions of them."

"Right, I can't speak for millions, but I understand you. I understand your...frustration. I understand feeling overlooked and shunted aside and helpless."

"So...you want me to stop because people are gettin' hurt, right? But Sam, what if I'm making the world a better place?"

"It's not a better place if you're killin' people. It's just different."

Karli smiled, white teeth wide and almost feral. "You're either brilliant, or just hopelessly optimistic."

"Well, can't I be a little bit of both?"

"No."

Christy frowned. "Why not?"

Karli glanced at her, and then back at Sam. "Why bring a sidekick?"

"She's not my sidekick, she's my protégé, big difference. And what she said was true. She knows what it's like to lose people. Lose everything."

"Alright." Karli turned back to Christy, and they sized each other up for a moment.

At last, Karli shook her head.

"Let me guess, you're going to lecture me about violence never paying off."

"I don't usually lecture people in grief." Christy replied. "I listen. Sometimes I ask questions. So here's one. Some people might think you've got serum to take over everything. To become a supremacist. Is that your goal?"

"No! That's absurd. Everything I do is against supremacy. The GRC, the corporations, everyone making money out of misery, they're beasts."

"...so now that you have the serum, are you gonna increase your army? Kill more innocent people?" Sam asked.

"They're not innocent, and I'd kill them again if I had to. They're roadblocks in my journey."

Christy raised her eyebrows. "Wowwwww."

"No, no, I didn't mean it like that…"

"Then...how did you mean it? Are you saying that a GRC volunteer that was a father of two deserved to die?"

"I have to take a stand!"

"Look." Sam said. "We agree with your fight. But neither of us can get behind how you're fightin' it." He paused, glancing briefly at the open casket of Donya Madani. "And I'm sure she wouldn't, either."

Karli bit her lip. She seemed to be taking the words into consideration.

"Karli Morgenthau, you're under arrest!"

Christy flung herself at the door in one fluid motion. "GET OUT! NO ONE WANTS YOU!" she bellowed, trying to shove Walker back.

Unfortunately, Lemar pulled her off.

"So this is what this was about…" Karli said.

"No, it wasn't!" Christy yelled.

"Karli, wait…" Sam tried.

"No, we're done talking." Walker said, moving forward to grab her arm. But Karli was too quick, and she streaked out of the room. Bucky moved after her, lithe as a panther.

He finally caught up with her in one of the back rooms. He was losing track of how many back rooms this stupid building had.

He shot at her, in the hopes of hitting something non-vital. Instead, he heard the sound of breaking glass.

"What the hell?" he muttered. Karli was hunched on the floor, a wound around her middle-and several vials spilled on the ground.

"Is this what I think it is?" Bucky asked.

Karli gave a shaky nod.

Grimly, Bucky began to smash each and every vial, despite Karli's whimpered protests.

"No more of this crap." he whispered heatedly. "It's done."

Suddenly, a shot rang out from the upper level. Bucky turned to deal with this new threat, and by the time he could look back, Karli had vanished.

"Dammit!" he howled, firing volleys upward, before running down yet another passageway.

But at least the serum was gone.

A tall, blond man strode into the now empty room. His eyes were drawn to the vials on the floor, smashed and broken. Their contents leaked all over, sickly blue.

One vial alone lay unbroken.

He bent forward and picked it up, twirling it slightly in his hands.

John Walker had always been praised for his decisive thinking. Today was no different.

It all happened way too fast.

They had all ended up in one room. One of the Flag Smashers was holding back Walker. Lamar tried to push his way toward his friend-only for Karli to bodily smack him into a pillar with all of her enhanced ability.

Lamar never stood a chance.

Walker ran immediately to his friend. "Lamar, Lamar, Lamar...Lamar, no!"

The Flag Smashers started turning tail, running into the street. Sam, Bucky and Christy followed.

Walker followed, in spectacular fashion, by hurling himself out a window.

Sam gaped. "How did he…?"

Buck drew in a sharp breath. "No. No, no, no…"

"What, Bucky?"

"I shot the serum off Karli; thought I got it all. Apparently not."

"What did he do?" Christy yelled. "He just took it?"

Walker landed feet first on a van, and locked eyes with one of the Flag Smashers.

"WHERE IS SHE!" he yelled, chasing the man down the street.

Christy took off running in the same direction. Sam deployed his wings, which he had left with Bucky earlier, and took off.

Bucky called on every ounce of power within him, and hauled Christy over his shoulder as he caught up with her.

"I got you, kid, now let's get Walker before he does something stupid."

Walker had caught up with the man in front of what looked like a fountain. And it looked as though he was about to commit murder.

All Christy could see was the Shield, doing something her dad would never have sanctioned.

And then, she saw a person holding up their phone, filming. And another, and another, and another.

History has its eyes on you…

She lunged forward and yanked at Walker's suit. Thankfully, Bucky had the same idea and also came onto him from behind.

"You're not killing a man with my dad's shield!" Christy howled.

"He killed Lamar!"

"No, he didn't!" Bucky yelled. "You're killing an innocent person!"

Sam landed behind them. "John, stop it! Don't do this!"

Futilely, Christy pulled at the Shield-but she made sure her voice carried.

"You are not turning a symbol of justice into a murder weapon!"

The man caught below them looked up, eyes filled with terror. His gaze caught Christy's own for a moment.

"There's still decent people." she whispered.

Walker froze for a moment, before his anger came back, full force. He tried to wrestle the Shield back from Christy, but Bucky had taken hold of it, and was gripping for dear life.

"Get!" he yelled at the Flag Smasher. "Get, g'wan!"

Christy tugged the man away and Sam came forward. He and Bucky wrestled Walker to the ground.

The Flag-Smasher ran. Christy tried to stop him, but she caught Sam's eye and the gentle shake of his head.

Another day would be the day for justice. Today, with the eyes of the world on them, mercy would win.

Much like my Endgame Fix-It, this fic was largely inspired by imagining Christy's reaction to one scene in particular. This was that scene.

Screw you, Walker. You can't just kill people because you're in grief.

Also, no Karli, you can't just kill people to achieve good goals.

I condensed the two fights into one, and took out the "Karli calls Sarah" bit. It...didn't add anything, in my opinion.

Next time: "The Dream That Almost Died Today"-John Walker has a conversation, Sam learns a dark secret and has a minor breakdown, and everyone has to confront the past, and it's bearing on the present.

(If you liked it, drop a review please!)