Somewhere deep in the Congo, Brock looking through the binoculars and surveyed the base below them, and made the announcement: "It looks deserted. None of the vehicles have been moved in some time."
There was a woosh as Pietro reached them. "I saw nothing."
Clint nodded. "Right. We'll move in. Keep your eyes open. Even if it's probably deserted, doesn't mean we shouldn't be prepared just in case."
They approached slowly, but as they neared the compound there was still no sign of life, and the cameras over the front door were clearly dead. Brock tried the front door and it swung open.
"Seems all clear."
"Stay on the alert. Strucker had the base on alert in Sokovia but it's always possible there's other Hydra hiding out here."
They entered, cautiously. But dust lay on the ground and there was no sign of it having been disturbed recently.
"Pietro, Brock, and I will take this floor and the second," said Clint. "Bucky, Wanda, you got the basement levels?"
Bucky nodded, and raised his machine gun to his shoulder.
He took the stairs down, Wanda just a little behind. He could hear the thrum of her power as it sparked at her fingertips, ready and waiting. As the pair reached the basement level he nodded towards one set of rooms and she moved slowly and carefully towards them, while he took the other row.
The first and second rooms were both fairly bare. He stepped into the third, automatically checked the corners, and was just about to turn and leave when his attention was grabbed by the object in the back.
The chair stood there. Bucky felt something inside him constrict and his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps. And for the first time he truly appreciated the fact that for all the gifts having his memories back might bring, it could also be a curse. Staring at the chair a flood overbore him, sweeping him back into countless flashes of agonizing, excruciating pain. Pain so lacerating it had elicited screams from a man trained to ignore pain, a man trained to endure in silence.
He could feel his head being clamped down and the horrible dichotomy of wanting to break away from the pain that he could remember even through all the memory wipes and the complete inability to break from orders.
One wouldn't have thought imagination was a thing he could still process, but apparently he did, for as he stared at the chair he imagined that it was waiting for him. Waiting for him to be thrust back into it and once again have his mind taken and wiped and shattered-
A jet of red energy shot past him and rammed into the chair, sending a hunk flying and hitting the back wall with a resounding crash. He jerked and turned.
Wanda stood in the doorway, inches behind him, hand raised. She met his gaze. "I do not like the chair."
He blinked at her. His breath was still coming a little too quickly.
"They put Clint into it in Sokovia. I did not like it then," she said. "I saw them put you into it in your memories. I like it less. They will not do it again." It was a promise. There was another jet of red, larger this time, that sent the rest of the chair and chunks of the concrete that it had been drilled into, flying back. It was destroyed past anything resembling a chair now.
Bucky blinked. "Thank you."
She nodded, and turning, returning to the search.
Bucky turned back to look into the room. There were twisted shards of metal, concrete strewn along the back of the wall, and dust filled the air. And he found his heart had stopped racing. He turned his back on the room and continued the search.
It took about forty-five minutes to clear the rest of the building. There was no sign that Hydra had been here recently.
"Great, well this was a wasted trip," said Brock, as they met back up at the entrance.
"Hey, now you can say you've been to the Congo," said Pietro brightly. "I'd never been to Africa before."
"I have, so forgive me if I'm not thrilled by the excursion."
"You are a very grumpy old man."
Clint let out a snort of uncontainable laughter as Brock stared at Pietro in no little amount of fury.
"Did you just call me old?"
"Don't take it personal Brock," said Clint, patting him on the shoulder. "I think he considers everyone over twenty-five to be old. Come on, we've still got an hour's hike back to the jeeps."
Leaving the compound, they started trudging back through the rain forest. It was slow going. The compound had been designed to be primarily reached via air and the one road out of it had already started to be reclaimed by nature.
Bucky kept running the encounter with the chair over and over again in his head. He was shocked at his own reaction. Shocked that he could be so easily shaken… He glanced towards Wanda. She hadn't said anything during the rest of the search…
They had been walking for about twenty minutes in comparative silence, when Pietro made an announcement. "I have a question."
"Hmm?" asked Clint, only half listening.
"There's five of us now. That's basically a team. Shouldn't we have a name?"
"Oh!" Wanda brightened. "Yes! We really should."
"We don't need a name," said Brock flatly.
"The Avengers have a name," Pietro argued.
"We are not the Avengers."
"Of course not. That name is already taken."
"We could be something like The Aviary or the Flock," suggested Wanda brightly.
"What?" Clint blinked.
"Really commit to the bird theme with Hawkeye. We could even all take bird names!"
"No!" said Brock flatly and appalled, while Clint broke into laughter.
"I'm with Brock," said Bucky. "I'm not going to be a 'flock' of anything."
"Well it was just one suggestion," said Wanda, "you're more than welcome to make your own suggestions."
"We're not even going to have this conversation," said Brock acidly.
"How about The Rogues Gallery?" said Pietro. "Since we've all been connected to Hydra in one way or another? A name that captures that we've been outside the law."
"A little long perhaps…" said Wanda thoughtfully.
"All right, how about The Rogues then?"
"Oh I like it!"
"I am never working with children again," said Brock flatly, and picking up the pace, walked on ahead in a huff.
"Between us," said Clint, watching Brock's retreating back. "There's no way I'm going by The Rogues. But whenever Brock's around, have at it."
The elevator slid open and Tony entered the common room. He looked around, noted Nat and Bruce over on the sofas and then caught sight of who he was looking for: Steve was leaning against the counter waiting for the coffee to finish making.
As Tony came towards him, the two on the couch looked up apprehensively, but Steve didn't. He looked exhausted, but…that was all. He was tired. Whatever fight was in him seemed to have temporarily deserted him.
"Did Rhodey get back to you?" asked Tony.
"Yes. Thank you. I know he wouldn't be helping if you hadn't asked him to."
Tony shrugged. "Rhodey's a big boy. He can make his own decisions."
"Still. If you'd asked him not to, he wouldn't have done it."
Tony stared at him for a long moment and wondered, for perhaps the first time, what it must really be like to be a man out of time? A man who had truly and literally lost everything and had to start anew? No wonder he was so desperate to find Barnes, the last link to a past that everyone else had forgotten and no longer cared about.
He sighed and pulled a business card out of his pocket and handed it to Steve.
Taking it, Steve frowned. "What's this?"
"Pepper's assistant. I talked to Pepper about it. The guy has been briefed and he's going to put you in touch with some contacts we've got. Star Industries knows a lot of people, all over the world, in every type of business. He's been authorized to give you every assistance in your search."
Steve stared at him. "Are you…sure about this Tony?"
Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Look, I'm not saying I'm going to make Barnes my new best friend when you find him but...I'll try for a little perspective. It's not like he's the only one who's gotten people's parents killed." He felt a flash of guilt and shoved it away. If this was the amends he had to make for his past, well…he wasn't sure if he'd actually be able to see it through in the long run, but he'd try.
"Tony..."
Tony waved it away. "Besides, being angry all the time, not that helpful. I spent a lot of years being angry about a lot of things surrounding my parents, and none of it ever did me any good. So call the dude and…good luck. I hope you find Barnes."
"…Thank you, Tony. I mean it. I'm sorry if…I'm sorry I didn't handle this as well as I could have."
"Well to be fair, how to handle looking for your best friend you fought with in World War II and thought had died but in fact had been captured and turned into a super assassin by Hydra and then used to kill your teammate's parents, isn't covered by a lot of how to guides. No idea why." He flashed a quick, strained, smile. "Anyways, I'm going back to the lab. Working on a suit upgrade. Bruce? Welcome down any time." He winked at Steve with a bigger, longer smile this time and said in a mock whisper: "He's always uncomfortable down there when things are tense up here." He raised his voice. "All good now. Feel free to join when you want."
Bruce rolled his eyes.
Bucky knocked on the bedroom door.
"Come in!"
Wanda was sitting on the floor, red energy swirling from her fingertips, as books floated around her.
"Wow," he said, shutting the door behind him. "Impressive."
The books fell to the floor and she looked up at him. "Just practicing."
"You seem to practice a lot."
She shrugged. "I guess I feel like I have to." She raised a hand, sparks dancing. "At the end of the day, everything about Pietro's and my powers…is still so uncertain. So unknown."
"Are you scared?" he asked, interestedly.
"I'm not sure I'm the one that should be scared."
"Well I was scared." She looked up at him sharply. He came further into the room and crouched down where she sat. "I was scared this morning when I looked at that chair. It wasn't rational. I knew the compound was likely empty. I knew I had four teammates backing me up. And I knew that for the first time in a long time, I had the power to fight. But I looked at that chair and suddenly I was reliving every bit of fear it had ever instilled in me. Back when I couldn't fight."
"You can now."
"Thanks to you. And…thank you, for this morning. Once again, you brought me sanity when I needed it."
She smiled. "Glad I could help."
He rose. He stared to turn and then stopped. "Oh, and you're right. You're not the one who should be sacred. Hydra is. Seeing your power, only a little in action, makes me feel pretty good about our prospects when we do run into an occupied base."
Wanda hesitated and then, burst out with: "I've never actually been in a fight. Not a real one. Pietro and I, before we got our powers, were caught in some demonstrations that went violent, but that's not the same. And we got Clint out of the Sokovia base but…that's not quite the same either. We were fleeing. A real fight…I admit, I don't know how I'll react."
He crouched back down. "You want some training?"
"You'd do that?"
"Sure. With your abilities, you should be fine. But you can best learn how to use those abilities, once you know the basics to begin with."
"I'd like that." She nodded. "Thank you."
"Good. We'll start tomorrow."