"I'm tracking down a lead on Bucky for the taskforce." Her answer came after a brief moment of tense silence. Then, she cringed at her lie - hating that it was her first instinct to do so even after everything, "No, I'm not." she backtracked immediately causing a look of confusion and slight frustration to come over Steve's face.
"Then what are you doing here?" he shifted his stance, still just as serious as he was when he first walked into the apartment. She could ask him the same thing. She tried to figure out how he had gotten to the apartment so quickly. Sharon didn't give her the allotted time she had been promised. Something must have happened to move up the time table. Q hesitated for a moment, taking in a deep breath and tangling her fingers together a bit. This was the worst time to tell him, in the worst place, and yet, it had to be done. The pressure had been building and building and building until it was about to explode. And now it was about to explode.
"Do you remember when we were in Croatia, how I told you about that family member?" she started with a step toward Steve, "The one who was captured by Hydra?" He nodded once, not wanting to interrupt her explanation, "And you said the story reminded you of Bucky?" Another nod from him. Another deep breath from her, "That's because it is Bucky." she admitted with a drop of her hands to her sides, "It's Bucky." she repeated herself hoping the point was clear enough.
"What are you saying?" Apparently it wasn't clear enough. She rolled her shoulders back and took another step toward him,
"My grandma is - was Rebecca Barnes -" she corrected herself at the self-reminder that her grandmother had passed years before. A look of recognition came over his face at the name of his best friend's younger sister. Memories came back fast and hard of a youth he had lived ages before. Instinctively, he straightened up, as he did whenever someone brought up his past. As if preparing himself for an attack of some sort, "I didn't know until we went to my family's for Thanksgiving. I found a box of her things and there were letters from Bucky along with a pair of his dog tags." The words began to tumble out of her mouth. Like the dam had finally been broken, "I thought I knew everything there was to know about my grandmother, but I didn't." her brow furrowed as she tried to keep her emotions in check, "And I wanted to. So I started to search for Bucky."
"For the next two years." he sighed heavily, connecting the dots together. Bucky was who she had been searching for. Not some random soldier from the 107th. Stupid of him for not pushing harder to get a little more information out of her. Enough to figure it out sooner. "Why didn't you tell me about...your grandmother?" he subbed in the relation to Q instead of using Rebecca's actual name - the name having too much emotion behind it. Too much of a ruined past was attached to it.
"Because I only found out about it like two years ago." she let out a sad little laugh and gestured out with her arm, "And I read about your last conversation with her." he swallowed the lump in his throat at the look of pity from Q. She knew what had happened between the former friends, "I didn't...I didn't want to bring back all that pain. And I didn't want you to look at me, us, any differently either." she admitted, realizing the last part was more true than anything. She still wanted to be just Q to him. Not his best friend's sister's granddaughter. They had met under normal circumstances and with the new connection between the two of them, she didn't want him thinking there to be anything different or reanalyzing their entire relationship. As if it were pre-planned.
"Did anyone else know before you did?" he was working through trying to figure out exactly what she was afraid of: if their relationship was organic from the start or influenced in any way because of someone's knowledge of her connection to him. His eyes were trained on her, studying her in this new light. Despite what he now knew, she still looked like the Q he knew and loved. Wild waves of brown hair pulled back from her face that still had the remains of her funeral makeup. She had been shrinking into herself ever since she told him her secret. As if afraid of what he would do.
"No, no," she shook her head, arms crossing over her chest, "There's barely anything on her in the SHIELD database. Just stuff from when Bucky…" she didn't finish her sentence; both of them knew what she was talking about, "and then she disappears from it. She wasn't important enough." A sad look crossed over her face at her realization, then quickly went away.
"She was." Steve found himself saying, mostly to himself. Looking down at his hands, he traced one of the threads of his fingerless gloves with his other hand. He wasn't as surprised as he figured he would be. But maybe that was because he had always known. Deep down, at least. There were always things that reminded him of Becca. Even from the first time he met her - he knew there was something familiar about her; she reminded him of someone. Only now did it make sense that it was Becca. Shield still firmly on his other arm, he let out a heavy sigh,
"So this entire time, you've been searching for Bucky? Why didn't you tell me?" Though she knew the answer to his question, she still paused.
For a long time, she had convinced herself that she had been doing it for Steve. Tracking down Bucky because he was Steve's brother, and he needed to know what happened to him. For closure. But as more time passed, it became more about untangling the family lie that had been indirectly or directly told. Trying to understand the why and the how and then moving forward from and with it. It was both selfish and selfless.
"Because you would've wanted to get involved, which is fine and understandable," she motioned to him in a placating manner before he could get defensive, "I didn't want you to though. Not because I didn't want your help or thought that you shouldn't get involved...I just...for once...I wasn't doing it for you, Steve. I was doing it for me." she ended with a half hearted shrug. It wasn't loud or angry or anything like that. Just a fact. The truth. Finally telling the truth. Finally.
Silence filled the room. The weight of the secret she had been keeping slowly dissipated, which was strange because she thought that the moment she told him, the guilt would've disappeared completely. Yet, it lingered.
"You should've at least told me." The hurt was evident in his tone, making her stomach knot up. She took another step forward, shoving one hand through her hair while the other settled on her hip.
"Ever since I got back to the compound, I've been trying to." she explained herself, "But every time I did, something always got in the way." she clenched her fists in desperation and frustration, "You got called away on an Avengers thing or I had the CIA stuff -"
"You could've tried harder." he cut her off, but didn't snap. Just sounded tired - and so was she. Of the lies and secrets kept and everything that had gotten in between them. Her shoulders slumped down and she nodded in agreement.
"I know. I'm sorry." she finally began her apology for everything. Or at least the big thing, "I'm sorry I didn't tell you. That I didn't keep you in the loop." she took another step closer to him. The space between them was closing both literally and figuratively, "I'm sorry that I left like I did. That wasn't fair and it was selfish. I should've tried harder to tell you once I was home, but everything was good for once. Which isn't a good excuse, I know. I just didn't want to mess it all up again." she reached out to him before pulling her hand back at the last second, "This was never how I wanted you to find out." he let out a slight scoff,
"Let me guess. There was a PowerPoint presentation." his reference back to how she had been planning to tell him about her feelings made her smile a bit. A brief moment of levity during an otherwise serious conversation.
"Actually, no." she lifted her chin up at his semi-amused smile, then became serious again, "I know it'll take a bit to get your forgiveness, and there's more important things we have to deal with right now," she glanced around the apartment they were standing in, "but I'll answer any questions you have. No more lies or secrets, okay?" she made eye contact with him so that he could understand how serious she was. It had been too much. There was too much stress put on her, and guilt. And she didn't want to keep secrets from him anymore. She didn't want to lie to him. Every time, it ended up just being a matter of circumstances. She wanted to be better, "I promise." he hesitated for a moment before nodding once.
"I'll believe it when I see it." his eyebrows rose a bit and she held back the flinch at his words. While he believed she was telling the truth about her and Bucky, he didn't believe the promise she had made. After everything. After finally admitting to what she had been doing, who she had been looking for and why. Whatever sort of progress she had made with him over the past couple of months had been erased. Back to square one.
"Okay." she nodded in agreement, taking her punishment without much of a fight. Because she deserved it. Was now being forced to work harder at being more open and honest with him than she had ever been before.
"So...is this where you found him?" he motioned with his chin to the apartment they were still standing in before side stepping around her to do a lap. A subject change, but still on topic, "It doesn't...seem like the Bucky I knew." he clearly had his doubts about where they were. The apartment was lived in, barely. There was a mattress on the floor, the kitchen was scarcely decorated with pots and pans and other kitchen accoutrements. Little personal decorations were scattered throughout the apartment - a rug in front of the balcony door, the magnets on the fridge (one spelled out FUC which made it even more clear that Q had frequented the apartment), a worn in hardcover book that didn't have its jacket and even a rolled up yoga mat. But the windows were still covered with newspaper, there was a thin layer of dust over everything and just generally had a dreary energy to the apartment. This didn't seem like a place the Bucky he knew would live in.
"He's not the Bucky you knew." she pointed out. For as smart as he was, he had to know that was true. Even without her telling him, "He's different. Quieter. Reserved." she rattled off just a few adjectives to describe him before getting into it, "He just wants to live out the rest of his days in peace."
"And you know this because you've spent time with him." Steve filled in the blanks while he stepped into the kitchen area. A seed of bitterness planted itself in the depths of his chest. She had gotten to spend time with Bucky while he had been running in circles trying to find something on his long lost best friend. How had she managed to find him while he had spent the last two years with Sam hitting dead end after dead end. Unless she had set up those dead ends...no she wouldn't. She wasn't that selfish.
"Only a couple months." she tried to make it hurt less, but it made it hurt more. A couple months was more than just a few days or weeks. It was enough time to get to know someone, "But I know he didn't bomb the UN." she followed him around the apartment, ending up on the opposite side of the island. He reached for the journal that was resting atop the fridge. One of many that were scattered around the apartment, all in varying degrees of use. "It doesn't make sense, Steve." she blinked a bit as her brain switched from defending her choices of not telling him about Bucky to the reasoning behind her belief that Bucky had nothing to do with the United Nations bombing.
"They still think that he did." he didn't look up from the journal he was leafing through. There were colored tabs sticking out of certain pages. As if the pages contained important information that Bucky had to go back to time and time again. It reminded him of the ones Q used in her reports about him. "They're sending a Special Forces team here to take him in." he glanced over to her to make his point, "Dead or alive." he let the words weigh heavy in the otherwise tense room, then turned back to the journal, "You shouldn't be here, Queenie." There was no emotion behind his words. Just stating a fact. It wasn't safe for her to be there, especially with a team coming in with orders to shoot on sight.
"But I am. I have to make sure - " she didn't finish her sentence, which caused Steve to glance over his shoulder again only to see that Q had been joined by the person they had been talking about mere moments before.
For the first time since D.C., he was face to face with his long lost brother again. Only this time, everything was different. Gone was the tactical gear he had worn on the bridge of the helicarrier - traded in for layered plainclothes that were in muted colors so he could blend in with his surroundings. Instead of a mask covering his identity, he wore a nondescript baseball cap, not unlike the one Q had Steve wear whenever they went out in D.C. Though it didn't hide the tiredness behind his eyes very well. Nor the agitated, nervous look that flashed across his face at the sight of Steve. His shoulders rose and fell in a set rhythm, one that proved he was trying to keep his breathing under control, but was failing.
While there was no immediate danger, Steve couldn't help the urge to move and position himself so Q was behind him. She was standing a few steps away from Bucky, diagonal from him. Despite the secret she had kept from him, he still remembered the violence that came along with his last face off against Bucky. He wasn't going to risk losing her too. Family be damned.
"Do you know me?" Steve asked with a level tone, wanting to figure out which Bucky he was actually dealing with before making any rash decisions. If he had blinked, he would've missed Bucky's glance to Q. Not like he was asking permission, but something else. A shared call back to a moment they shared without him.
"You're Steve." he responded with a slight gesture of his chin. There was no emotion behind his words. Nothing to tell him how he remembered him or where or if there were any real memories attached to the name. Nothing for him to decipher early so that he could prepare himself for what was to come. The only give was his eyes - a slight flicker of recognition that came along with the name he spoke, "I read about you in a museum." his gaze dropped down to the journal Steve was still holding. The one that had a pamphlet with Steve's Captain America portrait on it. While his explanation might've been true, that wasn't the only way he knew Steve. It was just the first thing that came to mind. An easy out without explaining the fragments he did remember at times. Less questions - not enough time to answer them all anyway.
Setting the journal down on the island, Steve heard Sam's voice come over his comm - noting that the German Special Forces team was surrounding the building. Not enough time. Never enough time. He stepped forward, closer to Bucky, but angling himself so that he could block Q if needed.
"I know you're nervous." he kept his voice in the same tone, "You've got plenty of reason to be." the allusion to what happened in Vienna was clear, "But you're lying." If he was surprised by Steve's easy read on him, he didn't show it. This wasn't the time to be debating on how Bucky knew Steve or why. There were more important things to deal with, things that had dangerous, violent consequences. Consequences that could hurt the people standing in the apartment who he cared about.
"They're saying you bombed the United Nations in Vienna." Q spoke up, even though it was clear he knew that already. The way he snuck in, kept quiet until she saw him, was an act of him returning to his apartment if only to get one of the many go-bags he had hidden around the apartment. He just wasn't fast enough.
"I wasn't in Vienna." he answered Q's non-question and then his eyes flicked to Steve, "I don't do that anymore." he kept his answer short and to the point. No need for details during a time like this.
"Well the people who think you did are coming here now." Another step forward, "And they aren't planning on taking you alive." No shit, Bucky thought to himself, and then glanced over to Q, who looked nervous. About what was to come or what was said, he wasn't sure.
"That's smart." Bucky nodded, then shifted his weight a bit as if preparing for a fight, "Good strategy." he glanced over to Q again before looking up at the ceiling as a slight pounding of footsteps echoed from above.
"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck." Steve tried to rationalize with him. There was still just enough time to get him to come in willingly. Explain his side and save himself.
"It always ends in a fight." he responded with a heavy, tired sigh. He pulled off one of his leather gloves to flex the metal hand he was burdened with. Sam's voice crackled in Steve's ear, once more reminding him that time was running out.
"You pulled me from the river. Why?" he pressed, still wanting an answer to a question that didn't matter at the moment. Still caught up on why Bucky had saved him when he was supposed to kill him. As if the answer would somehow change what was about to happen.
"I don't know." he lied, again his gaze shifting over to where Q was standing. They had talked about that day on the river before - where Bucky was some version of himself he never was again. Both the Asset and the Man at the same time. Q understood it, he wasn't sure Steve would.
"Yes, you do." Steve argued back, wishing they just had another second more. Just one to be able to understand each other. Except Sam's countdown had ended, just as their moment.
Something flew through the window with purpose, causing Steve to quickly deflect it with his shield. While it exploded behind him, Bucky grabbed Q and spun them around. Like they were in a dance. But really, it was so that he could push her into the bathroom. There weren't many places she could be safe during a fight like this. The bathroom was the closest he could get to protecting her. She wouldn't be good in a fight. More of a distraction than anything. She opened her mouth to protest or yell at him or ask him what he was doing, but he never heard which option she chose; he shut the door in her face, then locked it from the outside.
Turning away from the door, second grenade had come flying through the other window. With a kick his soccer loving neighbor would be proud of, it slid over to where Steve was. Slamming down his shield over the grenade, Steve muffled the explosion of the flash bang. He looked like he wanted to say something, but Bucky already moved on. There was no time to talk. He picked up his mattress, using it to bounce another grenade back out of the window it had come. Then he tossed it behind him so that it blocked the door that Q was currently hiding behind. Not much of a blockade but it was something.
A loud bang came from the other side of the door. Their unwanted guests had arrived in full force. Noticing it and knowing the door wouldn't hold for long, Bucky smoothly flipped his table so that it landed in between the door and the wall opposite. With the door jammed, it limited his escape routes, but was also one less way for the Special Forces team to get into the apartment.
Not that it mattered; the windows that weren't just broken in with grenades were then smashed by the agents coming in through them. Bucky immediately swung at the man closest to him, knowing it was better to get the first punch in before the man was standing upright. Steve took care of the other one - deciding to literally yank the rug out from under his feet. The gunshots echoed around the room, but didn't land anywhere that would be concerning. Realizing the first man was still attached to his zipline, Bucky used it to his advantage. He turned him into a human yo-yo, sending him flying out toward the opposite wall and letting gravity yank him back in - having enough force behind it where he hit the floor hard.
"Where's Q?" Steve asked out as another gunman came through the balcony door and forced Steve to engage with him. Before the fight began, the pair of lost brothers made eye contact for a moment, then had both looked over to where Q had been watching the conversation from the sidelines. Their thoughts both on her for a moment, with the same goal in mind: to keep her safe. Which is exactly what Bucky did.
"She's in the bathroom." Bucky grunted out in response, coming up behind Steve to land a hard kick to the other man's gut, sending him back into the wall and rendering him unconscious.
A small lull took over the apartment, meaning it was Bucky's chance to escape. He might've been innocent, but if the last minute and a half were any indication, it didn't matter. Whatever higher power it was decided he was guilty. And he wasn't going to stick around to see how it ended. He had started over before, he could do it again. Keep everyone safe. Protect his family. He took a step toward the balcony, only to be stopped by Steve's hand on his shoulder.
"Buck, stop." Bucky tried to duck under his arm and out of his grasp, only to end up facing his former brother, "You're gonna kill someone." he stated with a bit of concern in his tone. Bucky wanted to laugh or roll his eyes, but then he caught sight of Steve's expression. The fear in his eyes was real - not because of Bucky, but for Bucky. It was almost enough to make him hesitate. Almost. But now was not the time to reconcile with his old best friend. Instead, he used Steve's weight against him and slammed him down onto the floor hard enough to break the floorboards under him. His metal fist went into the one floorboard right by Steve's head, causing him to flinch in reaction.
"I'm not gonna kill anyone." he muttered as his hand clasped around his go-bag that had been hidden underneath the floor. While he didn't blame Steve for thinking the worst, there was still a bit of disappointment that flashed through his chest. Had they not just fought side by side? All of their enemies were still breathing. That had to count for something.
Straightening up, he glanced back down at Steve, seeing that the fear for him had become of him. A sour taste formed in his mouth and he tried not to linger on it, instead refocusing on the task at hand. Getting out and getting to safety so that he could reassess and plan his next move. He tossed the backpack behind him with enough force and at a certain angle so that it would land on the roof of the shorter building across from his.
But before he could head to the floor he needed in order to get across the gap safely, another gunman came through the already smashed window. Not waiting a second, the gunman began firing at Bucky, who dodged and blocked the bullets with his metal arm. The pinging of the bullets against the vibranium felt like small pokes of a hot needle. An annoyance, but nothing more.
In an effort to protect his friend, Steve moved so that he was in front of Bucky. The shield worked well enough against the gunman directly in front of them, but failed when another climbed through the window next to them. Thinking on his feet, Bucky launched Steve and his shield toward the second gunman, which sent both of them flying out the window and onto the balcony.
The first gunman continued to shoot at Bucky, even though his metal hand easily deflected the bullets. The same couldn't be said for the gunman's helmet as it did nothing to protect him from the cinderblock Bucky smashed against his head. The cinder block dropped from his hand with a loud thump and he glanced over to the door to the bathroom. The mattress had slid down to the ground, leaving the door exposed. Just then he noticed the bullet holes that littered around the wood. Ones from the bullets deflected at various points during the fight.
"Q?" he asked out just loud enough to be heard over Steve's grunts from outside. He was worried one of the stray bullets might have...
"I'm fine!" she called back before his mind go somewhere dark, sending a wave of relief over his body. Thank god. His gaze shifted from the bathroom door to the window where he could see Steve going hand to hand with the second gunman. Distracted enough so that he could make his escape on his own. He was counting on the fact that Steve wouldn't follow him if Q was still there.
Three shotgun shots rang out as the door hinges were slammed off. With one solid punch, his metal fist slammed through the wall by the door. Both creating a hole and knocking out the soldier that stood there. There was a moment of hesitation from the other side, which was their first mistake, and allowed Bucky to kick the door out instead of waiting for it to be kicked in. Only the group of soldiers in the hallway and stairwell stood between him and freedom. Easy enough.
Steve finished off the gunman on the balcony, knocking him out with the butt of his own gun and then jumping back into the apartment. Yet instead of Bucky fighting off more soldiers, he found the apartment to be empty. The fight had moved out into the stairwell. Without a second's pause, he moved out of the apartment and followed after his friend to both help him and make sure nothing happened. He had to make sure the team didn't get to Bucky first. Or at least distract them long enough for Bucky to get away at this point. He was in it now - and would do anything to save his friend since he had failed the two times prior.
A few minutes later, an eerie quiet had descended upon the apartment. Her breathing was suddenly way too loud, forcing her to hold it for a short moment just to hear more of her surroundings. The sounds of gunshots, and grunts and cries of pain were faded. A few floors away now - even outside.
The bathroom door was decorated in bullet holes. Some even managed their way into the bathroom itself, but went straight into the tile floors or the sink. Never near her. She didn't know if the boys had managed to do that on purpose or she was just lucky. The doorknob turned easily, the lock having been one of the things that was shot off during the fight.
Peeking her head out first, she let her eyes quickly take in the scene. Sans a few unconscious gunmen, it was just her. She fully stepped out of the bathroom, wanting to take in the damage of the fight she had heard. Glad she didn't have to witness the smashing of cinder blocks over heads or the rug being pulled out from even Bucky slamming Steve down onto the floor or throwing him out the window. All things that were probably necessary, but not great for proving he was better.
Careful of the broken glass that was everywhere from various people and things coming through the windows, she walked through the apartment - or what was left of it. His journal still lay on the counter, which made her take it and put it in her bag for safekeeping. Who knew if he would need it again. God, the day had quickly turned from bad to worse.
During her previous visit to Bucharest, she and Bucky had talked about Steve. About what it would be like if they were ever in each other's lives again. How he would want the reunion to happen. None of them expected it to go like it had. That was like worst worst worst case scenario. One buried so deep that Q's little analytical brain of hers never once considered it as an option.
What she needed to do was get back to Berlin before the team of Special Forces brought Bucky and Steve in. Which was inevitable at this point. No matter how fast or how strong or how determined the two were to carry out their individual plans, it wasn't going to end well. Both because Bucky was thought to be guilty of bombing the United Nations and because Steve refused to sign the Accords - and was now helping a supposed terrorist escape. The faster she could get to Berlin, the faster she could do damage control and figure out her next steps. Do something that could be helpful to all parties without getting arrested or anything like that.
The rough sounds of storming footsteps against the stairs got her attention. Knowing it had to be some sort of local Romanian police, she pulled her CIA jacket out of her backpack and onto her body. Of course someone had called about the full on gun fight happening in the apartment complex. Maybe the woman next door. She would've done the same. Now, she just had to use the fact that it was just local police to her advantage.
"Hands in the air! Hands in the air!" the Romanian shouting came at the same time as the guns trained on her did. She did as she was told, quickly answering their unasked question,
"My name is Agent Q Proctor. I'm an agent of the CIA on the Berlin taskforce." she spoke in Romanian, same as the police who came busting into the apartment (though not that they really had to bust into anything). She dug into her pocket for her badge, flashing it at them. Their weapons lowered just enough to make it clear that they believed her. Good. Easier to take on a position of authority when there weren't guns trained at her face. She straightened up and let her arms dropped to her sides. "I was tracking down a lead on the UN bomber." she kept her cover story simple and semi-true - taking on her Agent Voice as she did to make herself sound more in charge than she was, "Got here to this." she gestured to the destroyed apartment, and then made eye contact with the officer who stood in front, clearly the man in charge, "I need to be on the first flight to Berlin." she stated matter of factly, almost challenging them to say anything but an agreement.
A/N: Welp, secret's out! Steve knows! Obviously there'll be more of a Conversation later since Things are Happening haha. What did you guys think? Was this how you thought it'd play out? LMK! I want to hear all the thoughts and concerns and whatnot haha. Also I'm terrible at writing action so please forgive. Thank you all so much for reading, please give me all the feedback you have.