AN: I decided to repost this chapter since FFN seems to be working. I think I will lose about 3 reviews, but other than that it should be fine. Hope it works!
"Ross said the Accords are going to go through," Tony continues tiredly. "Especially with the bomb, and people thinking it was an enhanced individual who did it…"
He trails off, and Steve glances over him, his eyes flicking over his rumpled suit and exhausted face. He thinks over his words again. He wants me to convince you to sign the Accords. The wording is very important, and Steve can't help thinking back to when he and Tony had been in a similar position, only opposite.
He can still remember it, years ago now, when he had come to sit with Tony in his room and discuss the fact that Hydra was trying to get his help to build the Helicarriers. Hydra wants me to convince you to build the stuff, he had said, because he wasn't going to hide where he was getting his orders from.
He had respected Tony enough to give him the whole picture and make his decision that way, and now Tony is doing the same, looking just as tired and drained as he feels right now.
He lets out his own sigh and slouches slightly in his seat. "Did he say why he thought I should sign?" he asks, and Tony runs a hand through his hair, leaning to rest his elbow on the armrest next to him.
"He said it was because if you signed, then Bucky would sign," he explains quietly. "He told me that if the two of you were Accord-sanctioned, then they might be able to protect you."
It doesn't take much thought to tear apart the holes in that logic, and Steve feels a lick of fury rising in his gut at the thought that Ross had seen fit to take this tragedy and use it as a wheedling tactic to pressure him and Bucky.
One look at Tony shows that the man is already mostly on the same page with him, and he lets out an angry sigh. "Even if we did sign," he says quietly. "The bomb happened before; Ross would have to pull some fancy strings in order to extend his so-called protection that far."
Not to mention the fact that he has the feeling that T'Challa would not be impressed with that sort of thing. He hasn't had a chance yet to speak much with the man, but his father's death is still fresh in his mind, and he had had a deep, sharp look in his eyes that makes him reluctant to cross him.
He shakes his head and looks out towards the window and the night sky beyond. "Even if they could protect Bucky," he continues, his finger tapping against his armrest. "I don't think I could sign it. Signing it would just put Bucky and me under their thumb."
Tony remains silent and Steve swallows as he looks over at him. "You've seen how they've been treating him. Our powers aren't something we can just put away. If we sign, there is no way out."
"I know," Tony says quietly, his eyes on the skyline. "I'm not asking you to sign."
Steve closes his eyes and takes in a slow breath. "I know," he says simply. "And I'm grateful for that Tony. I know—" He shrugs and slumps slightly, opening his eyes. "I know this isn't easy for any of us right now but…" Tony looks at him, and he offers his friend a small smile. "I will admit that it is a bit of a relief that you signed."
Tony's eyes widen as he looks at him, and Steve crosses his legs as he continues. "I couldn't do it," he says. "The Accords are— are wrong," he looks over at Tony. "But like you said, it is probably a good idea to have someone on the inside for these things."
He looks over to the window and presses his lips together. "These Accords are dangerous," he continues. "But they are going to go through, no matter what we do." He breathes in. "So, they need to be watched." He looks back over. "And I trust you to keep an eye on them Tony. I don't like the Accords, but it makes me a little more comfortable knowing that you'll be there to try to keep them in check. We can hope that they won't be ratified in the States, but like Natasha said, this is going to be a problem for more people than just us."
Tony's mouth seems to hang open in surprise for a moment, before he huffs out a breath and shakes his head. "Way to pressure someone, Cap," he gripes good-naturedly. "Anything else you want while you're at it? World peace?"
Steve smiles and lets Tony move the subject along. "Yeah, well." He rubs the back of his neck. "That'll be a project for later. For now, we just need to work on helping Bucky."
Tony sobers a little and looks down. "Yeah," he says slowly, glancing up at Steve. "Bad news on that front. I had JARVIS look into the image of Bucky the media has, and he says it isn't faked or tampered with… so I asked him to search through the CCTV footage of the park that Bucky was at, so we could get an alibi for him and…" He presses his lips together. "They were all wiped."
Steve blinks and sits up. "All of them?" he asks in shock.
Tony nods. "Yup. Everything within a five-block radius of the UN building has a good eight hours of time missing, but, not the actual cameras for the building itself. Convenient right?"
Something hollow settles into his stomach and he swallows, looking over at Tony. "What are the odds of the UN accepting that as evidence that someone is trying to frame Bucky?" he asks quietly, his hands moving down to clutch at the fabric of his pants.
Tony's mouth twists and he looks down. "I'm not sure," he says. "We'll have to prove that he wasn't the one to tamper with the system. You know they know his skillset from Hydra. They'll be skeptical." He sees Steve's expression and leans forward. "But we will be able to," he says. "This just proves that someone definitely set him up, we just gotta figure out who."
Steve nods and rubs a hand over his face. "And how his face got on the security feed," he says tiredly.
Tony's mouth thins. "Yeah, that too."
After that they finally get ready to go to sleep. It isn't exactly a comfortable arrangement, but the office has enough chairs and things that can be pushed together to form makeshift beds for the both of them, and Steve finds he can't really complain, because as far as he knows, Bucky is spending the night in far less hospitable conditions.
Unfortunately, that thought seems to set the tone for the night.
It's the sound that he hears first – the sound of echoing boots walking on tile – that lets him know where he is. His stomach drops and he looks up in horror to see the familiar yellow tile of the Vault, Bucky's chair sitting menacingly in the center of the room.
"Alright, let's get started."
His head turns at the sound of the rough voice, and he sees a collection of Hydra agents dressed in black gear standing in a cluster near the chair. Instead of Pierce at their head though, he sees the pinched and scarred face of Rumlow, the man's eyes narrowing as he places his hands on his hips, his foot tapping impatiently.
The tapping echoes sharply around the room, but it isn't enough to cover the approaching sounds of shuffling feet, and his eyes get drawn to the door, his heart beginning to pound in time with Rumlow's foot as he watches Bucky get dragged through, his friend's hair swinging wildly around his face as he grunts and struggles against his guards.
In slow motion, his head swings from Bucky to the chair, and then up to Rumlow, his heart spasming in his chest in panic. "Wait!" he bursts out, making a move towards the man. "What are you doing—?"
Rumlow's eyes darts to his, a twisted smile growing on his face as Steve's progress jerks to a halt, hands appearing to wrap around his arms and drag him backwards. He struggles, his head jerking to the side to stare into the expressionless black helmets of the agents around him, his own wide-eyed gaze reflected back at him in their visors.
His head turns to see Bucky being pushed closer to his chair, and he renews his struggles with a desperate vigor, his breath hitching in his lungs as he jerks against the ironclad grip on his arms. He can't seem to break away though, and pain sparks behind his eyes and his head swims as he is rammed into something hard and metal behind him.
He sucks in a breath and jerks his head to the side, his eyes catching sight of an old but eerily familiar length of metal casing. All at once he realises where he is, and his struggles intensify as he is held down.
He is in the capsule Howard had made for when they had injected him with the serum, he is in the machine and— and the metal creaks as the doors to the pod whirl to life and begin to close over him.
"Wait!" he shouts again, grunting as he tries to escape the closing doors, only to get shoved back down again. Across the room, Rumlow's eyes continue to stare into his, and through the last few inches of space left between the doors, he catches sight of Bucky being shoved into the chair.
"No!" he screams as the pod seals around him, confining him into the narrow space. His hands lift without thought, and his fists sting as he pounds on the metal casing, his ears buzzing as the machine hums around him. His breath catches and his stomach drops with sudden trepidation as he realises that this is going to hurt a lot—
He jolts awake and his hand hits the edge of the armrest of his chair as he jerks, his face peeling away from the leather as his breath catches. The pain in his hand helps him wake up further and he blinks, sucking in a frantic breath as he pulls his hand to his chest, his eyes darting around the room in an instinctual perimeter scan. He is too flustered to actually register what he is seeing though, and he sits up in one bleary movement, swaying slightly as he swings his legs off of the double-chair setup he had been sleeping on.
It is morning now, and he squints at the light shining in through the office window, the surrounding buildings now visible. The light is in direct contrast to that of his dream, and he lets out a breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly as he becomes more aware. A sound to his right sends his eyes darting over, and he realises suddenly that Tony is still in the room with him, the man sitting on his own makeshift bed, his wrinkled suit probably looking no better than his own.
There is absolutely no way he could have missed how he had woken up.
His cheeks heat, and he knows he shouldn't be embarrassed about his nightmares, but he can't help the slight clenching of his stomach as he realises that Tony had probably noticed this one. He hopes at least, that he hadn't shouted out loud during it.
Tony's eyes flick over him and he tugs restlessly on his shirt collar, seemingly trying to get it to lie straight. "Your hair's a mess," he says bluntly, his eyes sliding off him as he reaches up to run a hand through his own hair. At his words, Steve's shoulders drop, and he lets out a breath, a spark of relief settling in his chest at the knowledge that they are apparently going to move on from how he had woken up.
He knows he shouldn't be embarrassed, but he doesn't really want to talk about it either.
"Right," he says, running a fruitless hand through his hair and brushing over the beginnings of scruff on his face. "Too bad we didn't think to bring an overnight bag."
Tony gives a humourless laugh and shakes his head. "What a thing to bring to a funeral," he mutters, and Steve realises abruptly that Peggy's funeral had only been yesterday. That is what he had been supposed to do yesterday. Go to a funeral, and go to a meeting, — and now, he is sitting in an empty office in Germany.
Not only is the timing difficult, it had also effectively made sure that none of them have any of their usual equipment. His shield is back in New York, and he imagines that Tony's JARVIS-glasses are the only bit of tech the man had brought over with him.
It can't be helped though, and he sucks in a breath, running a hand over his face as he stands up. "I'm going to clean up," he says to Tony as he turns to step out of the office and head down to the bathrooms. His head feels strangely light as he moves, and after he washes his face, he takes a drink from the faucet, realising he hadn't had anything for a while.
He does his best for his hair and general appearance, but he can't help that his dress shirt is wrinkled and marked with soot. He knows his own appearance shouldn't reflect badly on Bucky, but he can't help feeling like it will.
It can't be helped though, and he lets out a sigh before unbuttoning his sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows, the move helping to disguise a few of the newfound stains. That finished, he turns to head back to the office— and ends up having to catch himself on the edge of the sink instead, another wave of dizziness hitting unexpectedly.
He supposes he shouldn't be surprised, considering the stress of the last few days, but it is a little inconvenient.
Once he is certain he is stable on his feet, he makes his way back down to the office and trades off with Tony, the man stretching out his arms and rotating his shoulders as he walks down the hall, mumbling something about beds and spines under his breath.
Back in the office, Steve is privately beginning to wonder when their day will start and when someone will come for them to deal with Bucky, when his phone starts ringing.
He had left it next to his makeshift bed, and he steps over, sitting down as he reaches to grab it, wondering idly if one of the Avengers are calling to check in again.
It is not one of the Avengers. Instead Hannah's contact stares up at him.
Oh. He drops his head and squeezes his eyes shut. He hadn't even thought to contact any of Bucky's family, and now his sister had probably seen the whole thing on the news and… he imagines finding out that way hadn't been much better than watching Bucky actually get arrested in real life.
He presses a button to answer the call and holds the phone up to his ear, his voice rougher than he'd like when he speaks. "Hannah."
Hannah's voice is thin with worry, but still laced with a familiar steadfastness. "Steve," she says, and he finds himself sinking deeper into the chair as he listens. "I've been so worried," she continues tightly. "I keep seeing things on the news, and the whole family has been calling me, but I don't know anything— and then I tried calling you — and Bucky, but it didn't go through—" She sucks in a breath and Steve clutches a little tighter at his phone. "Are you okay? Is Bucky okay? What is happening?"
He breathes out and closes his eyes. "I'm sorry I didn't call you," he says quietly, bringing a hand up to rub at his brow, a headache threatening to make its home there. "It's been a busy day."
Has it really only been a day since everything…? Yes, it has.
"I haven't watched the news yet," he continues. "But I can imagine what they are saying." He lets out a breath. "The meeting in Vienna got bombed," he tells her, before sucking in a breath. "The Avengers are mostly okay, but for some reason Bucky is on the security tape, so they think he did it. He got arrested yesterday afternoon."
Over the phone, Hannah's breath catches. "But Bucky would never—"
"I know," he says quickly, opening his eyes. "I know, and me and Tony are doing our best to set things straight." He takes in a shaky breath and rubs at his temple. "It's a bit of a mess right now, but we'll figure it out."
Behind him, the door opens, and he flicks his eyes over to see Tony slipping back into the room, looking slightly rumpled, but presentable. Upon seeing him on the phone, he remains quiet and sits down, letting Steve focus back on his conversation with Hannah.
"Can I talk to him?" she asks. "Can I talk to Bucky?"
He winces. "I… don't know," he says slowly. "They have Bucky in some pretty high security… I'm not even sure I can go in to see him. We're waiting on a psychologist to assess him, and then we'll get started with our lawyers."
Hannah remains quiet for a moment, before he hears a soft sniff, and the sound of movement, like she is wiping her face. His stomach twists, and he wishes that the story and Bucky's involvement hadn't made it onto the news. Hannah doesn't deserve to be worried like this.
"Take care of him, alright?" she says quietly, her voice trembling just slightly on the last word. "And take care of yourself too, Stevie."
He nods and swallows past a lump in his throat. "I will," he says roughly. "I will, don't worry." After that, he says his goodbyes, and rubs his hand over his face as he hangs up, feeling tired despite having slept most of the night.
Across from him, Tony shifts, his fingers tapping a restless rhythm on his knee. "Who was that?" he asks.
Steve drops his hands and looks over. "Bucky's sister," he answers. "She saw the news."
Tony's mouth twists and he looks down, muttering a quiet curse under his breath. After a second, he looks back up and huffs out a breath. "Well," he says, tapping his fingers on his knee again. "It's almost eight, so I'm guessing things are going to start happening soon. I have a lawyer on the way, so hopefully she'll—"
He gets cut off as Steve's phone buzzes again and he looks down to see another call, this time from Jason. He blinks in surprise, because he had in no way been expecting a call from his therapist, and it takes him a second to realise he needs to answer.
"Sorry, I need to take this," he says, glancing up at Tony and moving to stand up from his chair. His head swims slightly as he moves, but he shakes it off quickly enough, raising his phone to his ear as he steps over to the door, hoping for a little privacy as he slips out into the hall.
"Jason?" he starts off, still a little surprised. "I wasn't expecting a call."
On the other end of the line, Jason huffs out a quiet breath of amusement, and Steve leans against the wall next to the office, his head ducking as he listens. "Yes well," the man replies. "Most of my patients don't have their problems broadcasted on international news."
Ah, right. That would definitely be a clue. "I know you're probably busy," Jason continues, and Steve wonders if that is why he had called so early, hoping to catch him before he starts his day. "But I just wanted to touch base, make sure you're handling things."
Steve's breath catches on a dry laugh and he runs a hand over his face, his shoulders hunching. "I'm doing my best," he says back, clearing his throat as he works on breathing evenly. "There's… there's been a lot this week."
The Accords, Peggy's death, Peggy's funeral, the bombing, Bucky's arrest… He shakes his head. A few days ago, he had been worried about figuring out how to retire… and now he has to worry about Bucky being charged with terrorism.
"I'm sure it's overwhelming," Jason says quietly. "Do you have someone there with you? You're not trying to do this by yourself?"
He can't help smiling at how well Jason knows him by now. "Tony's here," he tells him. "He's helping. He's going to help with the legal stuff. We just—" He sucks in a breath. "We just need to deal with that, and then… and then we'll deal with the aftermath."
He can't even imagine what the aftermath of this is going to be. Bucky's face and alleged crime had been splashed all over the news, so even when they prove his innocence, he has a feeling that the peaceful life he had been living in the Avengers compound is going to be overshadowed by this for a while.
He feels a flare of anger at the thought, frustrated at whoever it is that had felt the need to stomp all over Bucky's hard work, but he gets distracted away from the feeling as Jason speaks up. "Continue to focus on the present," he says. "Just the things you need to get done today. Don't get overwhelmed by the future. We'll deal with that when it comes."
Steve takes in a deep breath and nods. One step at a time, he reminds himself. "I know," he replies quietly.
"Good," Jason tells him. "Now, how has the rest of you been doing? How's your sleep?" Steve opens his mouth— and closes it again, thinking back to his nightmare and how he had woken up. On the phone, Jason seems to take his silence as an answer in and of itself. "That good, huh?"
Steve lets out a breathy laugh, ducking his head and running a hand through his hair before he sobers up slightly. "We got in late, but I slept through most of the night," he says finally. "Woke up to a nightmare though. I'm not really surprised."
The image of Rumlow's smiling face flashes in his mind again, and he shakes his head. Who would have thought, that despite blowing up Lagos and escaping, Rumlow would be the least of his worries right now?
"Hmm," Jason hums over the line, drawing his attention. "At least you slept," he says. "What about eating? When's the last time you ate?"
Steve thinks back to the last time he had eaten a meal… and continues to think back. "Ah," he says, swallowing. "Oops." With the tight scheduling between Peggy's funeral and the UN meeting, and then the chaos with the bombing and Bucky's arrest, the last time he had actually managed to eat a proper meal had been yesterday… at breakfast.
That might explain the dizziness. And the headache. And some of the tiredness.
Jason lets out a long-suffering sigh at him. "Okay, so the next thing you're going to do is find some food," he orders bluntly. "Extra calories to make up for what you missed. Drink some water."
Steve's mouth quirks up and he nods, his stomach taking a chance to complain, now that he remembers how empty it is. "I will," he says, although he does wonder a little at where he is supposed to get food here. "I'll do that."
"Good," Jason replies. "Set an alarm on your phone if you think you'll get distracted away from lunch or supper today." Steve nods again, even though Jason can't see him, and he hears the man breathe in, letting out a breath on his end of the phone. "Will you be okay now?" he asks. "I don't want to hold you for too long."
Steve closes his eyes for a second and leans back against the wall. "Yeah," he says after a moment, opening his eyes again. "I've got Tony. We'll figure it out. Thank you for calling though."
"Take care of yourself," Jason says, before signing off, his words sounding much more like an order than Hannah's had.
The both of them are right though – about him needing to take care of himself – and once his call with Jason is over, he sets the alarm on his phone for lunch (because he has no doubt he will forget without it) and he heads back into the office where Tony is waiting. As he steps inside, he can't help thinking that his friend has also probably eaten just about the same amount as he has, given how busy their day had been yesterday.
Well. That will have to be fixed. "Do you know where we can get breakfast?" he asks, sitting down on his collection of chairs. "We haven't eaten for a while."
Everett Ross had asked them to stay in their offices, but Tony makes some calls and manages to get food ordered up to them, and they wait patiently for it to get passed through security. "Do… you think we should invite T'Challa?" Steve asks eventually, his eyes flicking to the wall bordering the neighbouring office.
Tony's brows raise in surprise, and he shifts thoughtfully. "I mean, I'm not against it," he says. "Do you think he'd want to come?"
Steve isn't exactly sure, but he doubts T'Challa has had much more food than either of them, and it isn't really the man's fault that he is mad at Bucky, considering the evidence he has, and the grief he is going through. So, when the food arrives, he finds himself heading over to knock on the next-door office.
There is a blurry image of someone moving around behind the frosted glass before the door opens to reveal T'Challa, the man's own appearance about as good as his or Tony's. Steve finds himself at a loss for words for a second as they stare at each other, and he can't help noting the nearly healed cuts on the side of the man's head.
He shifts, and Steve remembers himself. "Tony and I ordered some food," he gets out quickly, gesturing back towards his office. "I doubt they have a cafeteria or anything here, and if they do, it definitely isn't open so…" He rubs the back of his neck. "Did you want to join us?"
T'Challa stares at him for a moment longer, probably surprised by his invitation, before he blinks and looks towards Steve's room. "I… suppose it would be wise," he says finally, looking back at him. "Thank you for your offer, Captain."
Steve manages a small smile and leads him back to the office, opening the door to the smell of take-out. He isn't really sure how often T'Challa has eaten this kind of food, or how similar the spread is to what he would normally be eating for breakfast, but he sits down to eat with them without comment, and Steve tries to relax enough to eat the amount of calories he needs.
The silence of the room is a little awkward, but the food is welcome, most of which seems to be the breakfast options of the local fast-food restaurants. He is just finishing up a breakfast burrito when Tony speaks up, glancing between both him and T'Challa.
"The aid that brought up the food told me that the UN's psychologist will be coming in about an hour," he says quietly before turning to Steve. "My lawyer – Chelsea – she's not here yet, but she's already talked to Ross. We're going to be allowed to watch the interview."
Steve lets out a sigh of relief, glad that he won't be completely in the dark about what is happening to Bucky. "I don't know why they had to bring in their own psychologist," he mumbles, reaching for an English muffin. "Bucky already has a therapist. They could've just talked to Carmen."
Tony shrugs and takes a drink from his coffee. "I'm sure Chelsea will bring her in," he says. "As long as the UN's psychologist's evaluation goes smoothly, she can be used to corroborate him. If not, then she'll be our counterpoint."
On the other side of him, T'Challa shifts, and Steve looks over with a slight flare of trepidation. T'Challa doesn't look up at him though, instead keeping his eyes on his breakfast sandwich, and Steve notices that he is now wearing his father's ring on his finger.
"You seem very convinced that your friend could not have been the one to kill my father," T'Challa says, lifting his eyes to pin him with an intense stare.
Steve swallows and glances back down to his meal. "I am," he says softly, lifting his head to look back up at T'Challa. "I am sorry for what happened to your father, and I know you don't know much about Bucky besides what the media is saying, but believe me when I say that he would never do something like this."
T'Challa's jaw moves, not quite clenching, but something close to it, and he flicks his eyes over Steve. "So you claim," he says, his hands motionless on his food. "Yet your friend's face is on the security feed, and, does not his past as the Winter Soldier prove he is capable of such acts?"
Steve's tongue flexes in his mouth, and he breathes in carefully, not wanting to overreact to T'Challa's words. Before he can say anything though, Tony speaks up. "We don't know why Bucky is on the security feed," he says, crossing his legs as he takes a drink from his coffee. "But we're going to find out. As for his actions as the Winter Soldier…"
His eyes slide away to the window for a moment, before they come back up to T'Challa. "I don't know how much you saw when SHIELD fell and their files were released, since JARVIS pulled most of Bucky's files," he says. "But I'm probably uniquely qualified to understand what you're going through right now."
He leans back slightly and drops his eyes on his cup. "When Bucky was the Winter Soldier, he actually did kill my dad."
He offers T'Challa a crooked smile, and the fingers of his free hand tap steadily on his leg. "I was angry about it too," he says. "Even though I knew that it was Hydra who was ultimately to blame." He swallows and lets out a breath. "It took me a while to come to terms with it," he continues, swirling his cup and breathing in, looking down. "And the thing was…" His lips press together. "Bucky couldn't even remember he had done it, Hydra had wiped it from his memory." He lets out a low breath and swallows, uncrossing his legs, before crossing them again the other way, his eyes on his cup.
For his part, Steve stays quiet, knowing that Tony needs to say his story in peace, and that T'Challa also probably needs to hear it uninterrupted. Beside him, Tony breathes in and looks back up at T'Challa.
"I was there when Bucky remembered what he had done for the first time," he says quietly, something distant in his eyes. After a moment, they sharpen, and his gaze flicks over T'Challa. "He was devastated," he says quietly. "He wasn't even using his own name yet, but he was horrified by what Hydra had made him do."
He shakes his head and takes another sip of his coffee. "I can tell you right now that Bucky would probably rather die than go back to anything like what he was doing as the Winter Soldier. He isn't an Avenger because he doesn't want to fight unless he has to."
He breathes in and shrugs his shoulder, meeting T'Challa's eyes again. "And, if that isn't enough, I can tell you that even if Bucky had some reason for wanting to bomb the UN, he wouldn't do it while Steve was in the building. Never in a million years."
Steve's head darts up at that, and he blinks at the strength of the declaration. He knows that it is true, but it is nice to hear out loud. "For you guys too," he cuts in, looking over at Tony. "He would never hurt any of the Avengers. Not if he could help it."
Tony glances at him for a moment and twitches his mouth at him in a flash of a smile, his shoulders relaxing slightly before he takes in a steadying breath and goes back to his coffee. On the other side of him, Steve can feel T'Challa's gaze, and he turns his head to meet his stare.
The man stays silent as he looks at him, his eyes flicking over his face for a moment before seeming to rest on his ears for a moment, his jaw rotating for a second before he looks down.
Steve swallows and leans forward. "What happened to your father was a terrible crime," he says, causing T'Challa to glance at him again. "And whoever did it must be brought to justice. We want that too. That's why we're fighting for Bucky. Once we know what is happening, we'll be able to bring justice to your father."
T'Challa keeps quiet as he looks at him before dropping his gaze to the ring on his finger, his thumb running over the silver band. "That remains to be seen," he says quietly.
oOo
The UN's psychologist is finally ready, and Sharon comes to get them, bringing all three of them into a meeting room, the glass walls around them revealing CIA agents and Ross on the other side, all waiting intently for the evaluation. Inside, Sharon presses a button on the control panel in front of her to show a screen with Bucky sitting in a grey room, still restrained in the glass cell from yesterday.
Steve takes in a steadying breath at the sight and sits down. Tony and T'Challa follow suit, and his eyes catch on a set of papers on the table. He reaches for them, and pulls them closer, his eyes widening as he realises what they are. It is a set of black and white photographs, the security footage of Bucky.
His eyes glance over the blurry images, seeing for the first time the 'evidence' against Bucky, and his jaw clenches. "Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?" he wonders bitterly, setting the pictures back on the table.
Sharon looks away from the feed of Bucky and gives a small shrug. "To get the word out," she says. "Involve as many eyes as possible. With his Winter Soldier training they probably didn't want to take any chances."
Steve frowns and taps his finger on the table. "Did they really think he could get that far? He came with us to Vienna, they denied him entrance into the building."
Sharon presses her lips together. "If they believed he planted the bomb, then they would believe that he had some way of getting out."
But he didn't, Steve thinks quietly. He came right to the scene of the crime, not exactly guilty behaviour.
He doesn't say that though. Instead he looks back at the pictures. "They think he could escape out of Vienna, but couldn't hide his face from some cameras? They didn't find it odd that the cameras around the park he was in were tampered with?"
Sharon's brow furls and she folds her arms. "You're saying someone is framing him?" she asks, and Steve can feel T'Challa's eyes on him. "They'd have to know he was alive in the first place," she continues. "That wasn't public knowledge. And they would have to know that he wouldn't be in the building at the time of the attack."
Steve's lips thin and he glances back towards the feed from Bucky's cell, resisting the urge to tap his fingers restlessly.
On screen, the psychologist — a Dr. Theo Broussard, according to Sharon — moves to stand next to the table and chair that have been placed in front of Bucky's cell, his back to the camera. "Hello Sergeant Barnes," he says, his rough voice echoing through the feed, a shudder seeming to run through Bucky at the words. "I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you. Do you mind if I sit down?"
In his cell, Bucky breathes in and shakes his head, his throat flexing as he swallows. Steve narrows his eyes as he watches Broussard sit down, something about him— something about his voice tugging at his brain.
"I'm not here to do anything but ask a few questions," the man continues, and Steve finds himself leaning forward, trying to get a better view of his face. He can't see much of him, besides his glasses and short-cropped hair, and he scowls slightly as the man pulls out a tablet and a notebook. "Do you know where you are, Sergeant Barnes?"
Bucky's eyes close for a second as he tilts his head up to the ceiling, his jaw clenching and unclenching as he breathes in. (And Steve remembers suddenly that he hates that name. He doesn't use it anymore.)
"My name is Bucky," Bucky says, as he looks back down. "And they told me I was being sent to Germany."
Steve can't see the expression on Broussard's face, but the man shifts in his seat, his finger tapping on his tablet. "Bucky, of course," he says, and for reasons that Steve can't quite name, the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end as he listens. On screen, the man glances up at Bucky. "You've been through a lot, haven't you?"
Bucky doesn't respond and the man continues. "I'm sure it's difficult, living with the things you've done." He leans forward slightly. "But we don't have to worry about the past." He tilts his head. "Just the future."
Something about the man's voice sends threads of anxiety up and down his spine, and he shifts uneasily, his mouth pulling into a thin line, his shoulders stiffening as his hands press into the table and he stares at the screen. Compared to his sessions with Jason, this evaluation feels… off somehow, and he glances over at Tony to see if the man feels the same.
Tony meets his eyes for a second and he opens his mouth. "We—"
Steve never gets to find out what he has to say, because at that very moment, Bucky's feed cuts out, the screen flickering black as he jerks his head over, his hackles rising and his breath catching in his throat as the room around him plunges into abrupt darkness.
AN:I feel strongly about every part of this chapter to be honest. I think Steve and Tony's conversation at the beginning was important, because they are united in a terrible situation, even if they are making different decisions to try to fix it.
And then of course, Steve waking up from his nightmare and talking to Hannah and Jason. Bucky has more connections in this story than in the mcu, so things are tough for his family too.
I also thought that T'Challa really need the time to talk to Steve and Tony. He at least knows that they don't believe they are covering up for Bucky, they want to help him too, in their own way.
Of course… things don't seem to be going very well, what with the psychologist and all.
Three chapters left!