As much as he hated being trapped in a conference room, he did have to admit that it could be worse. At least the floor to ceiling windows allowed him to see what was going on in the main control area. And the small television screen in the upper corner of the room was playing a live feed of Bucky's fishbowl being locked down in one of the secure rooms in the building. He caught sight of the back of Q's head as she stepped into frame for a moment with the other guards, but he couldn't hear what anyone was saying. One slight downfall to being on the apparent wrong side of the situation. He was now delegated to being a passive observer.

While he was still hurt by Q's lie, he was relieved to see that she had managed to get out of Bucky's apartment relatively unscathed. In all honesty, once the fight moved out into the hallway and then outside, his priorities had shifted. She wasn't the most important thing for him to protect. Once the dust had settled, his thoughts and concern turned back to her - a little bit of guilt edging itself in before he was reminded of the giant lie she had kept from him. He had a hard time deciding which emotion to let take over: the guilt of leaving her behind or the bitterness of being on the opposite side of another one of her secrets. And this one was the biggest one.

He had spent the ride to Berlin half stewing in his annoyance and frustration at the situation, and half stewing in the similar emotions that came from learning Q's secret. He was angry and frustrated at both Q and himself. He shouldn't have just accepted her return to the compound so easily. But he was too blind by his love and relief to have her home that he refused to look any more into it. She loved him so she came home, that was all that mattered. If he had taken a second to talk to her more, really pull at the thread that was dangling right there, maybe he would've learned her secret sooner.

She had told him that she had tried to tell him. And while she was probably right, he couldn't think of a time where she had. There was no definite moment for him that stuck out where she had been trying to tell him something and had gotten interrupted. Yet time, once again, had seemed to inadvertently gotten in the way. Again. It had kept him from so many things, taken so many things from him and only ever gave him little.

Just as time had taken Bucky from him, only to give him back, then take him away again - only to do it all over again, the same had happened with Q. She had been so close, then so far and now he understood why. Just a little too late. Per usual.

He had always known Q was a secretive person. Kept things close to her chest so that she could be protected. Self-preservation. The two of them were more alike than they realized. Yet, where Steve had managed to open himself up enough to let her in, she had proven time and time again that she couldn't. When he managed to open one door, there was always another locked door behind it.

This one secret - the one about her relation to Bucky, was the last straw. The biggest secret that broke the camel's back. He was tired of it. Tired of all the lies, the secrets...all of it. He loved her, but he was so tired of constantly being blindsided by the things she refused to tell him. There was almost no point in trying to make it work anymore. Clearly, she was never going to be her whole, authentic self with him.

Maybe he would feel differently if he ever got a chance to have a real conversation with her. The one they had in Bucky's apartment was barely a conversation. Just apologies that didn't mean anything quite yet. They had barely gotten a chance to talk about it and the fallout that would come. He wasn't sure if they ever were going to get to. What with him semi-arrested by the CIA for obstruction of justice and acting outside of the Accords, and her working with the CIA to find all of them guilty - or at least that's how she appeared to be.

"Hey, you wanna see something cool?" Tony's voice pulled him from his thoughts. He turned away from the television screen to watch Tony walk into the conference room. As he walked around one side of the table, Steve walked around the opposite. They were now literally on opposite sides, "I pulled something from Dad's archives. Felt timely." he held up a slim case that was decorated with a simple gold edge, "FDR signed the Lend-Lease bill with these in 1941." Opening up the lid of the case he showed off the two ballpoint pens that were nestled inside, "Provided support to the Allies when they needed it most." he glanced at Steve to see his reaction to the pens and the story behind them.

"Some would say it brought our country closer to war." he added with a raise of his eyebrows, plenty aware of his country's history - especially when it came to the war.

"See? If not for these," Tony set them down on the conference table before settling into one of the chairs, "you wouldn't be here." he gestured to Steve, who had to laugh a bit. Always seeming to look on the bright side of things. Hands on his hips, he let his eyes shift away from the pens and out one of the windows at the scene around them, "I'm trying to...What do you call it?" Tony was never good with silence, always trying to fill it with his own voice, "That's an olive branch." he pointed to the pens. Steve glanced at them, then shifted his gaze to Tony, raising his eyebrows a bit,

"Is that what you call it?" he wasn't so sure of Tony's intentions. They had been butting heads since Secretary Ross had pitched the Accords. Hell, Tony had even accompanied the Secretary, making it plenty clear which side he had picked before anyone else knew there were sides.

"I saw that Office Max is here." Tony tried a different approach with his reference to Q, "Didn't realize she got the CIA job." Steve let his hands drop from his hips as he nodded. Of course he knew about Q's job offer. He reached for one of the pens as Tony continued to talk, "I heard she didn't sign the Accords either." Again Steve nodded, wondering where Tony was taking this, "You do know she didn't sign because you didn't sign, right?" he posed the question that Steve already knew the answer to.

"I know." Of course Q wanted to sign the Accords. If he had learned anything about her, it was that she believed that people should be held accountable for their actions. A lesson she learned the hard way when she was a teenager and continued to learn well into adulthood - even being self-aware enough to know she had some consequences coming up for lying to him about Bucky.

The fact that she hadn't signed the Accords, despite her personal beliefs, because of him, was something that he had been carrying with him for a while. She chose him. Put herself at risk - for when someone found out about the serum running through her veins, because she wanted to support him. Something he reminded himself of when the thought of giving up on their relationship flitted through his head.

"You're okay with that?" There was something hidden in between the words of his question, "You know what's going to happen to her if she doesn't sign them, Steve." It wasn't a threat or a promise, it was just a statement. He knew what was going on with Q, which meant he knew what were to happen to her if she didn't sign the Accords. All of her hard work, self-improvement, would be worthless.

"Who else knows?" Steve asked, placing one hand on the table and leaning on it a bit.

"No one else." he put his hands up and shook his head, "And no one else needs to. I don't want to see you gone. Either of you." he grouped Q in with Steve, which made Steve feel a bit more reassured that she wasn't just being used as a bargaining tool, "So far, nothing's happened that can't be undone, if you sign." he got up from his seat and buttoned his suit jacket, "We can make the last twenty-four hours legit. Barnes gets transferred to an American psych-center instead of a Wakandan prison. Q's secret stays a secret. Both of them are safe." he considered Tony's offer for a moment. The offer was good, good enough to make him waver in his decision. Especially now, after finding Bucky and being forced into the situation they were in. The pen was heavy between his fingers, but not as heavy as the current consequences of not signing the Accords. He would lose Bucky, again, and maybe even Q. And he'd be alone. Again.

"I'm not saying it's impossible...but there would have to be safeguards." he carefully said, well aware of the politics that came with something that came with the Accords. If he could adjust some of the language, make it less controlling, then maybe there could be a way for him to sign.

"Sure. Once we put out the PR fire, those documents can be amended. I'd file a motion to have you and Wanda reinstated…" Tony was agreeing with a wave of his hand - like a fairy godmother of sorts.

"Wanda? What about Wanda?" his brow furrowed, not realizing Wanda was part of the conversation. Or a bargaining chip.

"She's fine. She's confined to the compound, currently. Vision's keeping her company." Steve let out a frustrated noise, then fell back on one foot.
"Oh, God, Tony. Every time I think you see things the right way…" he trailed off, not even being able to find the words to describe how disappointed he was in Tony's actions.

"It's a hundred acres with a lap pool. It's got a screening room. There's worse ways to protect people." he defended himself, hands on the back of the chair he had been sitting on moments before.

"Protection? Is that how you see this? That it's protection? It's internment, Tony." Protection and internment were two different things. One was meant to keep someone safe, the other was to keep others safe from someone. People always seemed to think of them as the same. Tony included. He thought he was protecting her, but he was just showing Wanda that he didn't trust her to be on her own.

"She's not a U.S. citizen -" he reminded Steve with a pointed look.

"Oh, come on, Tony-" that had to be the lamest excuse he had ever heard. Since when did that matter? Certainly didn't with Thor, a literal god. Wanda had been an asset to the team - her citizenship shouldn't matter.

"- and they don't grant visas to weapons of mass destruction-"

"-She's a kid!" the two talked over each other, both arguing their respective points.

"Give me a break!" Tony finally shouted louder, standing up straight and gesturing to Steve, "I'm doing what has to be done. To stave off something worse." he seemed almost desperate, but it meant nothing to Steve; he was going about it the wrong way.

"You keep telling yourself that." he jutted his chin out at Tony. Whatever progress had just been made was immediately erased. Once again, Tony proved he only had his best interests at heart. No regard for how his actions would affect other people - his apparent teammates. Steve set the pen down with purpose, "Hate to break up the set." he denied whatever sort of olive branch Tony had extended toward him.

A beat of tense silence passed before Tony reached for the pen. The pen was placed back inside the case, alongside the other one. Shut with a snap, it was clear that the offer had been rescinded. Symbolic in many ways.

Since Steve was directed not to leave the conference room, Tony did. Steve turned his attention back to the television where a man had entered the area that Bucky was being held in. A flash of regret went through him; he had lost possibly the only chance at freeing Bucky. But there was only so much he could compromise on. Hopefully, Bucky and Q could understand that.

"Hello, Mr. Barnes. I've been sent by the United Nations to evaluate you." the screen was suddenly unmuted, allowing him to hear the audio from the live feed. He looked over his shoulder to see Dawson standing by the table, arm outstretched to the small device in the center of the table.

"Thanks." he nodded once at his friend, watching him settle into one of the chairs that were around the table. Dawson nodded back, giving him a brief, tight lipped smile before leaning back in his chair.

"Do you mind if I sit?" the man's accented voice came through the screen before the sound of a chair scraping against the concrete flooring followed. "Your first name is James?" Bucky didn't answer immediately, staying quiet and unemotional on the screen. It was always weird to hear someone call Bucky by his first name. No one ever did it and got away with it - unless it was his mother or a commanding officer or that blonde who worked at the library.

"This doesn't make any sense." Dawson mumbled to himself, but it was loud enough for Steve to hear. He turned to see that Dawson was looking through a file folder that hadn't been in the room before. There was a copy of the photo from the grainy security camera. The one the news had released in their search for Bucky.

"What do you mean?" he stepped around to the other side of the table, Dawson's eyes following him as he did.

"We looked for this guy for two years." he gestured to the file folder. Steve ignored the bitterness at the reminder that Dawson had been with Q for the past two years on the search for Bucky. He knew about Q's relation to Bucky and still kept it a secret. As much as he wanted to be proud of Dawson's loyalty to his best friend, he was still annoyed by being kept out of the loop, "He knew how to avoid a security camera. But all of a sudden, now he gets caught by one?" he raised his eyebrows up. Not in surprise, but in doubt, "A guy like that doesn't just slip up." he used air quotes around the phrase. Steve considered his argument. There was a lot of truth to it. Hell, he and Sam had searched for Bucky too and they didn't get anywhere as close as Q and Dawson had.

Even before that, when he was the Winter Soldier, he was considered a ghost story. Someone who was able to kill a president, scientists, Hollywood royalty - even Howard and Maria Stark, and get away with it. He was skilled in hiding in plain sight and getting away with some of the most horrendous crimes.

"I'm no Q," Dawson continued, "but something's off." he made eye contact with Steve, who reached for the photo from the security camera.

"I've got the receipt for your gear." Sharon spoke as she came in with Sam behind her. The pair stopped their conversation and instead looked to their friends. She passed the paper off to Sam, who glanced at it with a scoff.

"Bird costume?" he sounded offended by the term, but Sharon shrugged,

"I didn't write it." she placed her hands on her hips, less concerned about the naming of his jetpack and more with what was going on in the room, "Anything interesting happen yet?"

"He was just getting started." Dawson answered, lightly tapping his fingers against the tabletop, still silently trying to understand why and how Bucky had gotten caught so easily.

"Q was sent to prep this guy," Sharon nodded to the screen, "...She should be back up by now..." she trailed off, letting her eyes shift to the main area of the control room, trying to find her among the other agents and analysts.

"I'm not here to judge you. I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?" Bucky was still quiet, "I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky." he answered, voice low and matter of fact. But to Steve, it was much more than a simple answer. It was a sign that Bucky knew who he was. A little bit of relief edged its way in; he had been protecting the right person. Not the soldier who was sent to kill him, but the friend he would die for.

"Why would the task force release this photo?" The photocopy was still in Steve's hand, while he had one hand on his hip, but let his eyes flick back to Dawson. Part of him was still thinking about their brief conversation, something didn't settle right with him. Sharon pulled down the corners of her lips,

"Get the word out…?" she seemed unsure in her answer, but like it was the one she was told.

"Definitely not something that's common practice," Dawson cut in with a look, "But maybe since it was the UN…"

"It's a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier." he gestured with the paper,

"You're saying someone framed him to find him?" Dawson caught on to what he was saying, straightening up in his chair a bit, "But it doesn't guarantee that whoever framed him would get him." he gestured to the screen, trying to work through the riddle. Steve glanced at the screen, realization dawning on him at the same time it dawned on Sharon,

"It guarantees that we would." she answered, grip on the back of one of the chairs tightening. Steve looked back at Dawson, who was already halfway out of his chair,

"Where's Q?" he asked, dread settling in his stomach.

Before anyone could answer, the room was plunged into darkness for a half a minute. Then the emergency lights came on, syncing up with the alarm that began to blare. Sharon and Steve made eye contact for a moment,

"Sub-level five. East wing." she told him, before he had to ask again. Steve didn't pause, moving out of the conference room toward the stairs - Sam following closely behind.

A high pitched noise surrounded Q as she slowly regained consciousness. Off beat with the pounding in her head, she groaned in slight pain. Her fingers fumbled to find her bracelet, tapping the material twice to send the vibrations against her skin to give her something to focus on instead of her surroundings - which had drastically changed since she was knocked out.

There was a red light flashing against the concrete walls in the otherwise dark room. The high pitched noise was an alarm. And she was alone. Fuck, she was alone. The "doctor" she was prepping had disappeared. Leaving the door wide open. That wasn't good at all.

She got to her feet, taking a brief second to do a quick once over. The back of her head was wet with her own blood, but she knew that the wound was nothing to be concerned about. A small perk of the serum in her body - it was already healing. Her headache was attributed to the blunt force trauma she received, but again, it was fading.

The red lights were mixing with yellow ones, all of them emergency lights that only came on when the power was cut. If the power was cut that meant there were unlocked doors and no cameras, nothing to stop the man pretending to be the psychiatrist to carry out whatever sort of plan he had.

Trying not to get distracted by all the other variables that came with an unexpected loss of power, she focused on getting to Bucky. There was too much lost time, too much could've happened, and she wasn't sure what she would actually find.

"Homecoming." the loud, hard Russian word echoed down the hall and made her pause. It tickled the back of her neck in a way that made a shiver go down her spine. She blinked, momentarily frozen in place by the word. Logically, a simple word shouldn't make her react in such a way, and yet, there was a second where there was a spark that usually came when the ends of two naked wires were touched. It went away as quickly as it came, but she knew it was bad.

A sense of dread came over her as she stood in the middle of the hall. She knew what it was, knew what the word meant. It didn't mean anything, but it meant everything. Whoever was in the room with Bucky was trying to activate the Winter Soldier.

The red lights flashed around the hallway, adding to the already tense scene she was in. Quickly, she made her way down to the area where Bucky was being held, getting there just as he exited. A small part of her briefly hoped that her brain was wrong - that he had managed to break free before the phrases ended. Then he turned to face her.

Dead eyes stared back at her. There was no recognition behind his eyes. Nothing to tell her that he knew who she was. And before she could try to tell him, his metal hand snapped out and grabbed her by the chin in a vice-like grip. She was lifted up from the ground and tossed like a ragdoll into the area where broken pieces of his containment cage lay. Landing hard against the concrete flooring she let out a groan of pain. But she wasn't allowed any sort of recovery time; Bucky was stalking toward her. Or rather the Winter Soldier was.

Scrambling to a sitting position, she reached out to grab a piece of the cage with her left hand. The steel had some weight to it and she swung it like a baseball bat, expecting the Soldier to stop it with his metal hand. He pushed it off to the side, away from his face, which allowed her to kick her leg up and out so it collided with his face. It wasn't a hard kick but it was enough to surprise him and make him let go of the piece of steel. She got to her feet and went to swing again, but this time, he ducked. Q had put so much force behind her swing that when it didn't connect with anything, the piece went flying out of her hands.

"Shit." she cursed, realizing she had fucked up and lost her weapon. She was done for. The Soldier grabbed her around the throat with his metal hand, squeezing just enough to cut off her air supply, "Bucky…" she gasped out, clawing at his fingers with her hands. It was no use of course, "...Rebecca." she managed, eyes widening as she kept them trained on his. There was a flicker behind his eyes, but the grip around her throat didn't let up, "It's me ...Rebecca," she repeated herself. Again, the flicker returned, but it wasn't enough.

The edges of her vision began to get darker as she lost consciousness, and her breathing picked up a bit in a desperate attempt to get oxygen to her brain, but it was no use. Much like driving into the Lincoln Tunnel, her world quickly dimmed, then faded to black.

A/N: Again! She tried! Ugh, poor Q. I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Per usual, please let me know all your thoughts and concerns. I love hearing them! And of course, gotta know what you think is gonna happen next! Thank you all for your continued support, I really really appreciate it. Love you all!