0145 HOURS | NOVEMBER 09, 2014 | BELASICA MOUNTAIN RANGE, BULGARIA-GREECE BORDER

When Lastimosa had raced away, laden with a belt of grenades and leaving them with only the vaguest hint of a plan, Steve felt all of his anger at the woman being shoved into the farthest corner of his mind.

In an instant all of that rage had turned to blind panic as Bucky had immediately made to follow after her, regardless of the implied message that he was to stay behind. To stay back and help the team in their efforts to distract the massive monster on a rampage at the far side of the hangar. Steve had never so quickly lashed out with a hand and yanked the darker haired man backwards, flinching as the metal arm had been swung almost instantly at his head.

"Lemme go, Steve," Buck had hissed, struggling in his grasp to the point where Steve almost believed he would have to fully restrain him. "She's gunna get herself killed!"

"You rush in there blind, Buck, and the only person you're gunna get killed is yourself!" he had shouted back. "I've lost you once already; I'm not willing to do it a second time!"

But Lastimosa had then gone above and beyond their expectations of her capabilities, proving Bucky's fears irrational. The woman had raced across the hangar, using the jetpack and her enhanced physiology to bound along at a speed that Steve was certain that even he could never have reached. To provide the distraction that she had requested, the Avengers rallied and unleashed what limited firepower they had on the Tatzelwurm.

Steve, who did not carry a sidearm or any other sort of gun in most cases, found himself almost left out of the fight due to his reliance on close-quarters combat. He'd only ever needed his shield and his fists to win. That was until Bucky had shoved the light machine gun into his hands without a single word shared and switched over to use the longer rifle to take precise shots at the monster. Clint used his arrows, Natasha and Sam bullets, Tony fired the remnants of his suit's weapons and Thor summoned lightning and sent his hammer soaring towards the Tatzelwurm.

The distraction proved effective enough, compounded by the panicked gunfire of HYDRA survivors, and almost entirely masked Lastimosa's approach. Steve's heart had frozen for a moment when the strange woman had so boldly placed herself directly into the beast's line of sight. She had even drawn its gaze on purpose.

Bucky's shout of horror, just a single call of her first name, had rung painfully in Steve's ears.

She had dodged the monster's lunge after tossing a grenade-laden body into its maw, crippling the beast but failing to kill it with her rather ingenious strategy. If the outside was nearly invulnerable, then the place to attack was from the inside-out. It was the same sort of idea that Stark had utilized during the Battle of New York on one of the Chitauri Leviathans.

And then a mechanical giant – a robot of all things – had arrived and Lastimosa had leapt inside.

It was like watching a version of the Hulk that was wearing an Iron Man suit.

The sort of grandiose fight that would have been more suitable to be displayed on the silver screen. The quintessential battle between a giant robot and a giant monster. The deafening roars, shrieks and hisses of the Tatzelwurm. The thunderous boom of the robot's enormous gun. The squeal of metal put under strain as the two grappled with each other. The smell of seared meat and the cries of the beast as it was finally injured. And then that brutal execution with a sword as long as a truck that finished the fight.

No sooner was the Tatzelwurm dead, Bucky was breaking out of their scattered firing line and jogging across the hangar. The robot spun around, the front panels opening with Lastimosa standing there in her moment of victory. But then she stumbled forward, having to catch herself on the edges of the cockpit to keep herself from falling out.

"Pilot, you have sustained a gunshot wound to the lower abdomen," the robot declared in a deeply masculine and mechanical voice. A message that was audible to all of those in the immediate vicinity. "Please access the medical kit or seek immediate attention."

Steve had not expected it to be capable of speech, but the grim announcement had Bucky breaking into a dead sprint and Steve followed. What remained of his anger towards the woman was for entirely personal reasons and did not in any way mean that he wished her injured or dead. She was by all definitions an ally of the Avengers, regardless of any discomfiture he felt about the obviously close relationship she seemed to share with Bucky.

Lastimosa brought a hand up to her gut, pulling it away to examine before picking her head back up to look in their direction. There was only thirty or so feet left until they would arrive at her side – a distance they would cross in less than a few seconds – but her adrenaline and stamina seemed to have finally run out. Her knees gave out and she tumbled out of the chassis on a collision course with the concrete.

Bucky lunged those last few feet with his arms outstretched, taking the full brunt of her weight as it fell from nearly two stories in the air and sinking down onto his knees to absorb the impact.

"Why didn't you catch her, Rome!" Buck demanded angrily, glaring up at the robot even as he rolled her out onto the floor after removing the larger guns attached to her back. He began to unbuckle the myriad of harness straps that wrapped around her body, while the robot's hatch closed and a singular optic, glowing with blue light, looked down at its large metallic hands with what seemed like contrition.

"My hands sustained damage in the battle," it – or maybe he – said. "I feared causing further damage."

Buck didn't reply, but seemed dissatisfied with the answer by the fearsome scowl on his face. Steve hovered nearby, unsure if his help would be welcomed. All of the straps seemed to be a challenge to disconnect, crisscrossing all over her body. Some belonged to the jetpack, others to the body armor and the rest for the ammunition pouches. Underneath it all, the bloodstain, which was only visible against the matte black fabric by the wet shine it made under the lights, had spread across Lastimosa's right hip and was spreading its way down her thigh.

"You going to keep standing there, punk, or are you gunna fucking get down here and help?"

His head snapped up at Bucky's barked question, looking up from the unconscious woman and into the steely eyes of his former-lover. The man was pulling a pair of incredibly small earbuds out of his ears and shoving them into one of the pouches on his belt before going back to work on Lastimosa. Steve found himself nodding and sinking down on the other side of the woman, removing his helmet, and starting in on the straps as well. He looked up when the team caught up, all looking to some degree concerned for the woman's wellbeing. Steve sent them off with orders to finish sweeping the base for any remaining HYDRA personnel and to have Banner bring the Quinjet around.

Bucky pulled the pouch harness away first and Steve was well on the way to getting some of the body armor off. Just over a minute since they'd begun to work on Lastimosa, the jetpack was placed off to the side and Bucky was hastily unzipping the full-body jumpsuit from the collar underneath her chin. They each took a side of the suit once it was unzipped and pulled it open as wide as they could to get a look at the wound to figure out what needed to be done.

The sudden reveal of a stripe of bronzed skin, finely toned with musculature and dampened with sweat, had Steve feeling a modicum of discomfort. It was wholly the wrong time to be admitting to himself that Lastimosa was proving to be an incredibly attractive and strong woman. His type, if he had to narrow it down. Just like Peggy had been back in the day. It was a reaction that was made all the worse because Bucky had taken the time to remove her helmet and Steve could finally see her face after all this time.

God, she was gorgeous…

Absentmindedly, he found himself wondering what color her eyes were.

Either from the jostling they had done while removing her gear or some other factor, Lastimosa took that moment – with the both of them hovering over her to look at the wound – to regain consciousness. She hissed, the muscles across her abdomen flexing involuntarily, which had her releasing a rough exhale of air as the movement aggravated the oozing hole just above her hip. Her eyes blinked open and Steve glanced upwards to meet her pain-glazed stare with unmasked concern, while Bucky began to press a thick square of gauze against the entry wound.

His mind unhelpfully took note – in an answer to his previous ponderings – that her eyes were a very lovely shade of grayish-green with the slightest starburst of blue around her pain-dilated pupils.

"Mmm… Fuck," she cursed and groaned in pain as the gauze was pressed down. She blinked her eyes rapidly for a second to clear her vision and was clearly trying to hold herself as still as possible to prevent unnecessary pain. She lifted her head ever so slightly to look down at the two of them properly. "Must be dead," she said, her words slow and slurred, but understandable.

"What?" the two men asked at the same time.

She chuckled once, just a single huff of breath, before stopping because laughter obviously caused pain. "Must be dead 'cause there's a pair of pretty boys taking my clothes off." She trailed off for a moment, letting her head fall back to the ground as her neck grew tired from the strain. "Never had two before."

Steve's face felt hot and he knew that a bright flush had bloomed on his neck, across his cheeks and all the way up and into the edges of his ears. And yet, Bucky looked mostly unaffected by Lastimosa's blatant flirtation. That was except for the smallest hint of a smile curling at the corner of his lips and one of his eyebrows raising up above the other.

"Really? What a shame," he drawled, that Brooklyn accent of his that had been nearly gone surging back to the fore. "Pretty thing like you not having a proper pair of fellas to dote on her. Such a shame, baby-doll. You're missing out."

Steve honestly couldn't determine whether or not this was a joke or a serious statement. Such a thing back in their era would've been seen as the height of sinning. Three people together? It was bad enough what they would say or do to two men or two women being found together in such a way. Everything had to be kept behind closed doors and at the highest levels of secrecy. Getting sent home with a Blue Ticket had been the least of their worries while out on the frontlines of the European Theater.

He knew that things had changed in the 21st Century, but Steve still had all of his instinctual old fears.

Lastimosa frowned, obviously being aware of something that Steve had missed out on, and seemed to have returned to a higher level of consciousness and coherency as she replied, "Don't be such an ass, Barnes. You've ruined the whole fantasy by opening your mouth and making the poor Captain blush like a schoolgirl."

Bucky's eyes snapped over to meet Steve's own and his lips curled upwards – lips that Steve had once known with an abundance of familiarity – into a smug smirk.

"That's not hard to do. He's always been easy to fluster," he said before he turned back to her, all the while still holding steady pressure on the wound. "But now that you're conscious it's time for questions. This through and through or is the slug still in?"

"Still in," she answered honestly. "Don't feel an exit wound and my back's dry."

"There are a pair of medical-grade forceps with the med-kit, Sergeant Barnes," the robot prompted and the two men craned their heads to look up at the mechanical giant they had nearly forgotten was there. "As well as additional gauze, bandages and supplies for suturing the wound, should it prove necessary."

"Good. Steve, go and get it."

As he stood the robot crouched and brought one of its large four-fingered hands up to form a step.

"Hello, Captain Rogers. I am RA-5172, a Vanguard-class Titan of the Frontier Militia SRS and linked to Pilot Lastimosa," it introduced, even as the front panels swung open. Inside of the small cockpit, there was a single seat surrounded by a vast array of switches, buttons, cables and other sorts of technology that Steve couldn't have even begun to describe. "The medical kit will be found on the left-hand side of the pilot's chair."

"My left or yours?"

"Yours."

Steve leapt up into the small space, his eyes catching on a bright yellow and black striped handle labeled CAUTION CAUTION that would've sat directly between Lastimosa's legs. He'd seen something similar in the cockpits of modern fighter jets. Was that for ejecting? He briefly considered the implications that the combat was so intense wherever Lastimosa had come from that she would ever need to eject from her twenty-foot mechanical death machine.

It was a sobering thought.

He leant into the cockpit, looking over one of the chair's button-laden armrests, and saw a mossy green bag embroidered with a familiar red medical cross. He grabbed it and jumped back down to the ground, opening the med-kit as he returned to Lastimosa's side. She had her eyes closed again, but seemed to just be resting rather than unconscious once more, while Bucky continued to hold pressure. Steve poked through the bag, shifting the supplies over until he found a smaller case that contained a limited array of surgical instruments and grabbed the longest pair of needle-nose forceps he saw.

"Got them," he said, brandishing the slim tool. "Want me to do it?"

"You still remember how?"

"Oh, don't argue about it," Lastimosa said, with her eyes still closed but a scowl caused by the prospect of the pain from the extraction starting to form on her face. "Just get the bullet out already so I can dose up with Stim and heal."

"You don't need it stitched?" Steve asked.

"Nah. Just have to bandage the entry wound. Small shot of Pilot Stim, dosage depending on how deep the hole is, and it'll be healed over in like five to ten minutes," she explained. "S'why I was movin' so fast before. All of me super-charged to the max. Very useful."

"I'll bet it is."

"So, Barnes move that gauze and let Rogers go spelunking."

"Painkillers?" Steve asked again, worried about causing her any unnecessary pain.

"What part of 'get the bullet out' do you not understand?" she hissed, eyes opening to slits so she could glare down at him. "Sensation is deadened from the Stim withdrawal. A specifically designed side-effect for times like right now when you suddenly find yourself shot full of holes but needing to keep on going. But it only lasts for so long so get moving, Captain, before I have Barnes do it instead."

He sighed heavily but complied with her demands and went looking for the bullet after Bucky had removed the gauze and wiped both the area and forceps down with disinfectant. She held remarkably still while he was poking around her insides with the tip of the forceps, only hissing and groaning a couple of times until he finally pulled the mangled slug from her body. Fresh blood seeped from the aggravated wound and Bucky was quick to press down with a fresh square of gauze.

"How deep was it?" Bucky asked.

"Only two inches, I think. Maybe a little less," Steve answered, looking down at the mushroomed lump of metal in his gloved palm. "Would've thought a 5.56 would've gone way deeper."

"I'm built tough, Rogers," Lastimosa hissed out. "Two inches, okay… That's five centimeters. So, two points five cee-cees of Stim. Syringes are on my ammo belt in the pouch with the lightning bolt on it."

"Lightning bolt?" Steve asked in confusion, but also as a means of keeping her distracted as Bucky leant over and began to rummage with his free hand through her discarded equipment. Steve also took the time to pull out more gauze and a roll of tape from the medical kit so that they could bandage it soon.

"Stim makes me lightning fast, Captain. Get it?"

He found himself laughing. A short and entirely unexpected burst of uncontrolled snickering, which earned him a bright smile from her.

"Don't let it go to your head, Rhia. You're really not that funny," Buck deadpanned as he returned with a slim cylinder in his grasp. An auto-injection syringe that looked astounding similar to the EpiPens that those who had severe allergies carried on their person in case of emergencies.

"I'm fuckin' hilarious, Barnes. A couple more months of healing in that blender-brain of yours and you'll be rolling on the floor from all my jokes. Rome, back me up."

"Pilot Lastimosa has always been regarded as a humorous individual by members of the Militia."

"See? Told ya."

"Sure, doll. Whatever you say," he said and Steve was astounded that the man he had last seen in Washington D.C. had become the man in front of him now. But even Steve knew that this was not yet the Bucky he had once known. "The dial on the end for setting the dosage?"

"Yeah."

"Where do you need it to be injected?"

"Right next to the wound," she said. "Then just slap a patch on me and I'll be good to go."

Bucky did just so, uncapping the syringe and placing the needle down at the edge of the gauze before depressed the trigger. Lastimosa's body seized just slightly with the injection before she relaxed out and let out a gusty sigh. They bandaged the wound while she basked in the obvious relief that the dose of Stim had given her. When they were done Bucky fixed her jumpsuit and zipped it back up to her neck.

Steve took to repacking the medical bag as a heavy silence fell over their little gathering of three people and one giant, looming robot. Bucky seemed unaware of what to do with his hands, resting them on his thighs, while not making eye contact with anyone. But Lastimosa bore an expression of intense thought. Her lips were pulled down into the slightest of frowns and a furrow had formed between her brows.

"So, there's a talk that needs to be had here," she began and broke the silence, looking between the two of them pointedly as she levered herself up slowly from the floor into a seated position. "And I have no place being in the middle of it. Barnes, you good to do this or do you need some time?"

Bucky didn't reply, but gave a sharp nod of his head. She sighed, seeming displeased with the answer but willing enough to accept it as good enough. Her gaze – those previously soft gray-greens turned to an almost gemstone-like hardness – then settled on Steve.

She looked at him for several long moments. Assessing and almost like she was weighing his worth.

"You will go easy on him, Rogers," she said, but he knew all the same that she was issuing him orders. She seemed complete unconcerned that the object of their conversation was seated less than a foot away and could hear them both perfectly. "There's a hell of a lot going on inside his head that you don't understand and I won't have you ruining all the progress that I've made with him. You talk slow. You do not raise your voice. If he looks uncomfortable you drop the subject then and there. If he seems to zone out or dissociates completely you keep your distance and call for me. Do I make myself clear?"

Steve opened his mouth to protest, about to say that he wasn't an idiot and he knew what Bucky had gone through under the yoke of HYDRA. He'd read the KGB file, after all. But her dangerous tone and one hundred percent serious expression stopped him dead in his tracks. Froze him in place before he could shove him foot into his own mouth and make a fool of himself in front of a woman who had clearly come to care for Bucky a great deal.

"Have I made myself clear, Rogers?"

"Crystal, ma'am."

"Good," she said, looking back towards Bucky. "You need me, Barnes, you call me, okay?"

"Okay."

"Alright, you boys go on ahead and play nice now. I'm just going to sit here for a bit and then get my gear back on," she said, waving them away with her hands in a clear dismissal. Steve stood and began to walk away. Not too far. But far enough that Lastimosa would most likely be unable to hear their words. He realized then that he also didn't know how enhanced her sense of hearing might've be, but she seemed to be the type that wouldn't actively listen in on a clearly private conversation.

He heard Bucky trailing after him but keeping himself at a healthy distance, maybe ten feet or so. At a location that was about as good as it was going to get, Steve turned around and faced his former-lover. They stared at one another for a tense moment, neither seeming to know what to say to the other, before Steve finally mustered the courage to speak first.

"So, how've you been doing? You know, since Washington?"

"Not great." Bucky wasn't even looking at him as he replied, "But better recently."

"Better?" Steve asked.

"Yeah... Rhia's doing," Bucky admitted and a soft smile pulled at his lips.

"Oh..." Steve said, feeling a weight settle in his gut that he didn't want to acknowledge at all. A fear that the love he hoped to rekindle with this man was already out of his reach. "That's good, I guess. And, you know, I'm glad that you at least know who I am this time around."

"Just happy I didn't try to kill you for a third time."

"Buck, I don't hold what happened in DC against you…" he began to say, but was interrupted as gray-blue eyes gone steely with anger snapped towards him.

"You should," he snapped, accompanied by nearly bared teeth.

Like a dog snarling at a threat.

"Well, I don't" Steve said earnestly. "It wasn't your fault. And you pulled me from the water."

"I don't know why I did that." Bucky looked away again, shifting his eyes off to the side and then down to the concrete of the hangar's floor.

"Yeah, you do."

"I'm not him," Bucky said, like it was a guilty admission.

"What do you mean?" Steve asked.

"I'm not your James Barnes," he explained, like he was talking to small child that wasn't getting a very simple concept. "I'm not Bucky. Not really. That man died when he fell from that train."

"I know," Steve admitted, feeling a resurgence of all the pain and grief at the memory. "That's okay."

"Okay?" Buck questioned in horror. "It's okay! What the hell is wrong with you?"

"It's okay because I understand. I'm not the same Steve Rogers that went into the ice. Shit happened and I'm different now too. So, I don't care if you're not the exact same Bucky that I used to know. I'm just glad that you're still alive and I'll take you however I can get you."

"You don't mean that."

"I do."

"You can't mean that," he blustered, looking prepared to run away at the slightest provocation. "You know what I've done. Who I became? What they turned me into?"

"Yes, but I still don't care," Steve said, but remembered Lastimosa's veiled threats and kept himself still, fighting against the urge to rush in and swaddle Bucky into a comforting embrace.

"You don't care that I've murdered dozens of people for HYDRA? That I'm an internationally wanted criminal with decades of blood on my hands? How can you even say that?"

"I can because I love you."

"No."

"Yes, I do. That's never changed, Buck. Not in sixty-nine years."

"No, no," he said in vehement denial. "No, you don't. You can love me. Not anymore."

"Bucky, please. Just come back with me," Steve pleaded, his hands twitching at his side with the desire to reach out. To just touch him. Just this once. "I can keep you safe. Can get you help to deal with your memories. Get your name cleared of those charges. You can have a life again if you want it."

"I don't deserve that."

"Yes, you do," Steve urged. "You were forced to kill against your will. That does not make you a criminal. It makes you a victim."

There was a lull in the conversation and Bucky seemed to be digesting what Steve had said. Giving it serious consideration, which was all that Steve could ultimately hope for. It was wonderful enough to even be having a conversation with him again. To hear his voice. To see him with his own eyes, not just the not-quite-accurate images that were presented to Steve in his dreams and memories.

"If I say yes, can Rhia come too?" Bucky asked as he seemed to come to some sort of conclusion. "She's in some trouble and needs help. And… I need her. She keeps me calm, somehow. I used to switch back to being the Soldier all the time when I was on the run. Triggered by the slightest thing and I'd be an inch away from slaughtering civilians in cold-blood. But these past six weeks? Not a single relapse."

"Of course, she can come." It hurt Steve to say it, while his heart wanted his former-lover all to himself. But if Lastimosa was that much of a comfort to Bucky, if she had truly done so much to help him, Steve could not deny the request. "And the robot too. Anything you need, Buck."

He had a feeling that if he had selfishly said no that Bucky would've turned his back on him.

Would've then and there chosen Lastimosa over him.

"Titan." Bucky said abruptly and Steve was so lost in his own thoughts that he had forgotten the vein of their conversation for a moment.

"What?" he asked.

"RA-5172. Rome. The robot," Bucky explained. "They're called Titans where Rhia is from."

"Oh… Okay then. Still, they're welcome to come with you. I just – I just want you safe."

"Let me…" He looked over his shoulder at the woman, who had almost fully reassembled her equipment onto her body and seemed to be talking with her mechanical companion. "Let me go and talk to Rhia."

"Sure, Buck," Steve agreed. "Just let me know what you decide."

Bucky was quick to turn away and rush back towards Lastimosa and the robot, leaving Steve to stand there and reflect. He would consider that to have been a successful talk, despite how painful it had felt to him at times. It could have been far worse, he knew, and it was likely only due to the warnings he had received beforehand from Lastimosa. His attention was drawn away, towards the tarmac, as the Quinjet – a new model that had been designed by Stark – landed just outside.

The ramp came down as the other five members of the team, who had been sweeping the hangar for survivors, converged and were joined by Bruce Banner shortly thereafter. Steve made his way over and they gathered in a loose circle under the stars, illuminated by the hangar's lights and smoldering fires.

"So, how'd the mission go?" Bruce asked, taking in the carnage with a concerned eye, while his gaze seemed to linger on the robot and the two human forms gathered at its metal feet.

"Crazy. The mission went all sorts of crazy," Clint commented wryly. "But it's all taken care of now. But we've got ourselves new problems now."

"Oh? Thought I heard some odd things over the radio, but you never called me in."

"Odd is one word for it," Sam mumbled under his breath, but everyone still heard it.

"Didn't need the Hulk this time," Barton explained, gesturing to those in question with one of his hands. "Our newcomers handled all the heavy lifting."

Natasha turned her head to look over at Steve, who couldn't stop glancing over his shoulder to keep an eye on Bucky. "How's Lastimosa doing, Cap?" she asked.

"She'll be fine," Steve said absentmindedly as he tried to guess what Lastimosa and Buck were saying.

"That GSW looked pretty serious," Sam said. "How's she gunna be fine?"

Steve turned back and met all of their expectant eyes. He explained, "Her enhancements make her very durable so the bullet didn't do much damage. She's also got syringes full of a drug that boost her healing rate to insane levels only with other side-effects. Something specially made for people like her."

"That sounds handy," Clint commented and a few of the others hummed in agreement.

"And Barnes? How did that go?" Romanoff asked. "We saw you talking."

"It went… As well as could be expected," Steve admitted. "He's made leaps and bound since D.C."

"Oh, you mean he's not an emotionless killing machine anymore? That's nice to hear," Tony said as he charged his way into the conversation. The billionaire had remained silent for quite some time, but now he stepped out of his armor and swiped his hands down to smooth his clothes out.

Steve rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore Stark's usual penchant for being disrespectful. "I asked him to come back to the Tower with us, but he won't go without Lastimosa and RA-5172," he said.

"RA-5172?" Bruce asked with a raised brow.

"The giant robot," Steve explained. "That's its name, apparently."

"Whoa, whoa… Hold the phone!" Stark shouted. "You went ahead and invited your murder-friend and his murder-girlfriend and their giant murder-robot back to my Tower? Without even asking for my opinion first?"

"He needs help, Tony. Help that we can offer. And Lastimosa apparently needs some help as well."

"Oh, yeah. They need some help alright," Sam snarked.

"Surely this is not an insurmountable obstacle?" Thor asked, having remained quiet for the majority of the conversation. "The Avengers Tower is a veritable fortress, yes? Would that not be the best place for individuals of their particular level of danger?"

Stark had not been swayed by the Asgardian's logical consensus.

"Yeah… No. They're not coming to the Tower. I'm not putting the whole of New York City at risk by bringing the Winter Soldier, a dangerous unknown and her mechanical monster there. Not even temporarily. He's a wanted criminal and who knows what she's done."

"Well then where do you want to put them?" Steve challenged, stepping towards Tony and pulling himself up to his full height. "Where else is safe enough and under our control like the Tower is?"

Stark's face pinched for a moment as he looked to be thinking something over.

"Mmm," he hummed out after a second of thought. "Might have a decent place. Been renovating some old Stark Industries warehouses into a secondary headquarters upstate. I can set up a security perimeter and outfit them both with restraints that'll shock their asses unconscious if they so much as step an inch beyond it without our say so."

"Is that really necessary, Tony?" Steve asked, not particular fond of the idea. He hadn't intended for Bucky and Lastimosa to become their prisoners. This was all so that Buck could have a life again, not be locked up and held against his will. His stomach churned uneasily at the mere thought.

"Yes. It's very much necessary," Stark barked. "I don't trust them. He almost killed you. Almost killed Fury. And we can't even begin to guess what Lastimosa and that metal giant are capable of."

"It's a good plan, Steve," Natasha argued softly.

"All in favor?" Clint asked.

"Aye!" Tony, Bruce, Clint, Sam and Natasha all chimed simultaneously. Only Thor remained silent and had a rather conflicted expression on his face, as if the idea did not sit quite right with him either.

"And after they've been on their bestest behavior for a set period of time maybe we can start to lighten up on their restrictions," Clint suggested, likely to ease the harsh result of the vote. "Baby steps, right? I'm sure it won't be for forever. Just until it's safe enough to let them have free reign."

"Fine," Steve said. He didn't like it, but it was obviously the best he was going to be able to get. "But this is only if they end up agreeing."

"And what're you going to do if they don't? What if they decide to go off and do their own thing?" Sam asked, bringing down the harsh gavel of reality.

"I don't know…"

"Here they come," Natasha announced and the team all turned, rearranging themselves into a vaguely line-like formation to face in the incoming trio. Bucky and Lastimosa were at the fore of the group, walking side by side, while the Titan lingering behind them. The incredibly large robot was zig-zagging its way across the hangar to recover the enormous gun and the equally large box magazines that it had discarded during the duel with the Tatzelwurm.

"Talking about us?" Lastimosa asked innocently as they came near enough to be within easy hearing range. Her face was visible to them all now, as she had chosen to keep her helmet off and had it tucked underneath her arm.

"Yes." Natasha admitted bluntly and the women shared a brief staring contest.

"Only good things, I hope?" the blonde asked with a sharp sort of smile curling at her lips.

"Debatable," Tony snapped and her eyes drifted in the billionaire's direction. It looked to Steve like Stark wanted to pick a fight with Lastimosa, whether it was over her gear or over the damage her electrified smoke had done to his armor.

"So?" Steve prompted in an attempt to defuse the brewing storm.

"Yes," Bucky said.

"We'll go with you," Lastimosa added, expanding on the previous answer. "But not quite yet."

"What's that mean?" Clint asked.

"There are some things we have to wrap up before we can just leave," she explained. "Do you think you could come back at the end of the week? Maybe on Friday? I've got a job that I'll need to quit and a few debts and favors that I have to deal with."

Stark seemed dumbstruck by the woman's answer.

"Are you for real?" he asked in incredulity. "That was not one of the options."

"How do we know you're not going to go off the grid and vanish?" Natasha asked, as her lips were pulled thin and her eyes narrowed in blatant suspicion.

"You don't," Bucky answered bluntly. "But we're not."

Lastimosa continued, "We've agreed that the best next step for us both is to seek outside help. Both for Barnes' mind and the fact that HYDRA is likely still hunting for him and for my own personal situation."

"And what would that be?" Bruce asked, seeming concerned about any additional heat that this mystery woman might bring down on the Avengers. All of which could possibly lead to an unannounced visit from the Big Guy, which was inadvisable and very much not a good thing.

"The short version is that we're lost," she said, gesturing back towards her Titan. "And need help to find our way back home. The longer version will have to wait until later because its… uh… very complex. But I promise that I'll explain it in full soon. Most likely when you return to get us."

Steve chanced a glance at the others, who were almost looking amongst themselves trying to gauge each other's reactions to Lastimosa's tale. Most seemed wary and uncomfortable with leaving such an open end to their agreement, but there wasn't much they could do but take her at her word. There were much more pressing matters – like wrapping up their business with the HYDRA Base – than trying to wring the woman out for every detail into her dubious and possibly sordid past.

"Fine," Tony ended up saying after a couple second of deliberation via eye contact. "You can have until Friday night and you better not ghost on us."

"We won't," the two promised.

"How are we even going to know where you are?" Sam asked, bringing up a rather important topic.

"I'll give you the apartment's address and my phone number," Lastimosa offered generously, before sliding her eyes back towards Stark with a sarcastic smile. "But I'm sure Stark would be able to track the phone's GPS without any trouble if it became necessary."

Tony looked affronted by her sly accusation, which was obviously some sort of dig against his skills with technology. Steve didn't quit understand what Lastimosa was on about, but happened to notice that there was a faintly smug grin on Bucky's lips. Amusement from the woman's jab at the multi-billionaire? He found himself not caring and simply enjoyed the soft look on the love of his life's handsome face.

Stark huffed, before turning around to saunter away and slink into the interior of the Quinjet.

"Oh, and one last thing," Lastimosa said, turning to Steve and giving him a hopeful look. "Do you think you could actually give us a ride back to our car? It's a bit of hike and I'm not particularly feeling like walking twenty kilometers with a partially healed bullet hole in my gut."