Like the statue in Prospect Park, Steve Rogers stood rigid, hyper alert, still running on adrenaline after the prison break. Luckily, Clint had taken over as liaison; giving all relevant details of the prisoner's treatment and the Raft itself with the Army Colonel and the team of officials from the Swiss Department for the State. All of them were being offered asylum, a chance of home in the land of cuckoo clocks, chocolate and secure banking. The man with a plan's eyes were on Sam and Wanda with the medical team. His friend was giving clear and concise details on how poorly the two enhanced humans had been treated. Wanda was still unconscious, having spend several days semi-conscious in a drug induced state. The kid, Alex, was insisting he was fine and asking after his foster father and going home to Montreux. Steve looked away, turning to observe the wall and he was caught in a flashback to a lifetime ago, when Howard had flown him across Lake Geneva and just to see a corner of Europe not affected by war.
Scott coughed to get his hero's attention. "Thanks again and tell your friends in Wakanda I said Hi." The dark haired fighter for injustice was damn sure he'd never don a super-suit again, cause losing one would mean Hank and Hope had no reason to trust him. "As prison's go, that one sucked more than county or the Federal Supermax. I have to warn you I can't stay indefinitely. I have family. These guys are the world's mediators and I'm no longer under parole, and I know enough about due process and nice legalities of the Western World, so the shit we caused in Leipzig is no longer something they can charge us with. So here and now, you look like you need some down time. We all do. Get perspective."
…...
All of them were taken to the base hospital. Steve did not grumble, and sat on the nearest empty bed, then copying Clint, Sam and Scott do the same, so he lay down. Closing his eyes to grieve, at the high cost of doing the right thing, of standing his ground. He had no regrets at sticking to his own moral compass and was already planning for the future and needed to send an olive branch to Tony. He also needed to tell Alex about Bucky's decision to go back on ice. His old friend had told him all about the kid he'd rescued from HYDRA, insisting the teenage backup was clean. Was the kid also programmed to kill? In the medical files released by the Swiss clinic, in their war of openness and transparency against Ross, their patient was a young man with fugue state amnesia, epilepsy caused by brain damage, who had suffered an unexpected bleed on the brain two weeks ago. Under close observation for eighteen months, and not one inkling of programming.
The only good thing, was that all files had been wiped and medical samples at the Raft and their labs had been destroyed. Sam had stated that tissue, blood, hair samples had been taken twice daily from Wanda and Alex. The kid had received no physiotherapy nor any actual medical treatment for his partial paralysis. The whole cover of international security had been used as a means to restart Project Rebirth. He, Bucky, Wanda and Alex were now just guinea pigs. He was trying to assuage his guilt about Wanda, the breakout had proved to him that everything Bruce had said about Ross had been true. Guilt and anger served no purpose. He was now more of an Avenger than he had ever been. He had been shown his path, and he would keep doing what was needed and justified. Fury had spoken the truth when he'd said he was in charge now and no bureaucrat was standing in his way.
Sleep came as Scott's snoring distracted Steve from planning and reminded him of better times.
…...
Alex sat bolt upright, it was as if the ward was filled with Wanda's screams, only she was in the a private room at the other side of the nurses station. He knew the screams were in his head and yet he could not ignore her pain, even though he had yet to attempt walking unaided, as Scott had been the one to help him from his cell to the waiting plane.
Rather than effortlessly step out of the bed, Alex sort of fell. A full face plant averted only by his left hand gripping the bed frame. He tried to stand, but then decided moving like a snake was easier with the partial movement of his right hand side. Keeping low also meant he'd sneak past the nurse as he slid down the hall on the cool linoleum.
He opened the door to hear the whimpers of terror from Wanda, and see the red glow from her unrestrained hands light up the room. He rested by the foot of her bed and started humming the tune he'd heard her brother sing to her in his dreams. She stilled and relaxed, breathing deeper and even, as nightmares gave way to sleep. Her nighttime guardian was too tired for a return trip to his own bed, so he lay on the hard floor to sleep.
...
Clint was awake early, and observed the arrival of two grey haired guys, one with a limp, accompanied by the colonel. The nurse went to wake Alex then sounded the alarm as he was not in his room.
The American retired SHIELD Agent spoke up, wanting to know who these strangers were, by using a skill preferred by the Black Widow, being open and charming; "Hi I'm Clint Barton. I guess Lex snuck into Wanda's room early this morning. The kids were in adjoining cells and are now total BFFs." He left out the details of Alex being aware of events and memories about Wanda and Pietro, details that he could only have known about because of some weird side affect of the Witch's psychic powers being confined.
Edward Pleasure was glad Alex had made new friends, especially ones with excellent morals and no fear of Thaddeus Ross. "Thank you for looking after Alex. I'm Edward Pleasure, by the way, his foster father. This is Dieter Sprintz, a family friend. I spoke with Natasha yesterday, Dieter and I travelled straight here. Could I possibly have an interview later on today, just to give a balanced view on American's new internment policy?"
"You're welcome. I loved your piece on Sokovia, one of the few balanced articles that actually mentioned HYDRA's involvement setting us up."
Edward smiled at this well known spook, "Yeah, like to be my own boss and go for the jugular, rather than rehash the state sponsored bullshit. I write for The Spectator, Vanity Fair and The Guardian regularly. Here's my card. You'll have full editorial control over what's printed. We few on the right side of the normal argument need to stick together."
…..
Mirroring, his late night escapade, the prone figure asleep on the floor eyes snapped open, wide awake in an instant after a night undisturbed by nightmares with the curious certainty that Edward Pleasure, the only man he had ever called dad, was here with 'Uncle' Dieter. He could see Wanda was awake, but fully occupied in a deep trance, meditating and levitating two feet off her bed, attuning her power. Her whole body illuminated with her spectral red aura. Alex sat up without difficulty, he had changed so much since the last time he had spoken to his mismatched, non-biological family. Truth was there was no need for him to remain in medical care. During the few hours of sleep, he knew his body was healing exponentially fast due to his unique biology, as the only descendant of a serum enhanced super-soldier. He stood up and stretched. Walking with only a slight limp, as he left to give Wanda peace and quiet.
If those present needed proof that Alex was superhuman, they got it watching him walk unaided only less than two weeks after having a stroke, having spent five days receiving no medical attention at all. The limp and favouring his left hand side were the only signs of infirmity.
Alex went straight to Edward, as the last eighteen months living without full recall had meant they had built a real father and son relationship, whereas during the fostering in San Francisco the teenager had held himself aloof, afraid of attachments and the consequences of loss and blackmail. Arms open for a hug, the ex-prisoner knew this reconciliation would only be a short one, "I've missed you Dad. Missed everyone at the clinic. Promise, I'll never complain about food again, the shit they served up at the Raft made Army food at Brecon seem like Haute Cuisine."
The hug lasted an eon, only broken when Alex hugged Dieter for the first time. It had always been Jamie visiting as his father remained in the background. For the billionaire to come with Edward meant their was something going on. "How's Jamie and Sabina?"
Looking rather pleased that Jamie was still a troubled maker, "My son is in New York, coordinating with Paul, Tom and Joe; all enjoying coordinating litigation, social media and anti-Accord protests at the UN."
Alex smiled "Cool, wish I could join him, but I doubt I'll ever be able to go back to San Francisco or London."
…...
Steve Rogers laid still, listening to Clint and Alex, both seemed to have moved on from the horror of imprisonment overnight. He wanted to lie here and ignore everything, Sam would be the first to tell him to not let depression to take a hold. Natasha had stated they had to play the long game; keep the team in the open, fighting their corner and showing up the Accords for what they were, a bureaucratic stop peddle, hindering not helping those sworn to help others.
Life went on, again without Bucky, but with new faces to get to know, to train and to move forward. Time to introduce himself to a very canny journalist and his rich and influential friend. Their master spy had already informed him that three billionaires were anti-Ross; the American Paul Roscoe, the Dutch diamond magnate Rudi Vries and the man accompanying Alex's foster father, the market magician, Dieter Sprintz. All three in the top twenty of Forbes Rich List. Steve had met Paul Roscoe briefly, who was a business partner of Tony's, at a party before the Fall of the SHIELD. He stood up, not caring that he looked worn and tired. It was time to network and rebuild as the world needed heroes, real heroes, not hype or the caricature that Captain America had always been.