Hi All, thank you everyone that is still readying. And thank you so much everyone that has sent emails, comments and reviews. It really motivates me when I am struggling with the muse and RL. As always, thank you Gategirl7 for the beta. We're getting near the finish… I think. :-)

Oliver's blood was singing through his veins. He dodged Widow's kick and threw himself backwards to avoid her roll. She was one of the most athletic people he'd ever met. Sparing with her was exhilarating and unexpected. He couldn't shake the feeling that she was assessing him. She'd attack one way, then change up the attack moments later. Oliver couldn't get in a position to use his strength or longer reach against her. She was very good at keeping him from using his advantages over her. Before Oliver could finish the thought, he was taking a hard, two legged kick to the chest that sent him backwards.

"You are predictable," Widow announced, stepping back and letting him stand.

"Don't feel bad, Oliver, she says the same thing about me." Steve announced as he came down the stairs. Oliver glanced over at Steve and received foot to the back of his calf for taking his attention off of his opponent.

"Where is everyone?" Oliver asked, surprised Felicity wasn't with Steve.

"Roy and Bruce went to get something to eat. They seem to be getting along well." Steve leaned against the door frame. "Felicity got a call from Tony as she was coming upstairs. He came over and got her. I'm going to pick her up after they're done. Dig is still with your family. Bruce is going back there as soon as he eats."

Oliver couldn't say it didn't feel good to know that his family had extra coverage. He should have done that from the start. "Thank you," Oliver said simply.

Steve nodded. "Where's Sara," he inquired. Oliver had been waiting for that. He'd promised Steve he would talk to her and ensure she was on board with them, but he hadn't caught up to her until a little while ago.

"She's on her way over. She texted me a few minutes ago." He wasn't looking forward to their talk, but he was looking forward to having it out of the way.

"You going to just stand there, Rogers? I never took you for someone that would let another take a beating alone." Romanoff's eyes sparkled and her mouth was pulled up into a smirk. She looked almost friendly Oliver decided.

"Oh so that's how it is," Steve laughed. "Let me go get my workout bag out of the truck." He turned to Oliver. "That move I showed you yesterday," he pointed out. "That gets her almost every time if you are careful where you throw it in. We're not the only ones that can be predictable." Oliver chuckled at Romanoff's snort. He turned back to his opponent, trying to decide how best to implement the flying kick Steve had suggested.

.

.

Steve was smiling as he pushed the exit door shut behind him. He'd parked behind the nightclub to be able to use the back entrance. Clicking the lock on his truck and reaching for his bag, Steve suddenly grabbed his shield instead and spun to meet the attack he'd felt coming at him from behind.

Only the faint whir of gears and Steve's enhanced hearing saved him from the blow meant for his head. Bucky's metal fist connected with the shield and drove Steve backwards into the side of his open truck. "Buck," he exclaimed, blocking the next blow as well while trying to get his footing. "It's me, It's Steve," he shouted, staying on the defensive. He couldn't let himself be hurt like he'd been in DC. Too many people were depending on him for their lives, but he wouldn't hurt his childhood friend either. Surely Bucky had to remember something. He wouldn't have pulled him out of the Potomac if he didn't.

"You're my target. Completing my mission will stop the pain," his friend ground out almost mechanically, like he'd been repeating it to himself over and over.

"If you're in pain, let me help you, Bucky," Steve tried again. He jerked sideways as the other man managed to get a swipe across Steve's side with the blade he carried in his flesh hand. Right as Steve jerked to the side, Bucky's metal fist slammed into the side of the shield, almost ripping it from Steve's hands. This was bad. Bucky was too strong for Steve to stay on the defensive and hope to somehow subdue his friend, so how did he bring him down without hurting him.

"You can't help me," Bucky ground out as the two men fought. "Only compliance." Steve's heart sank. His friend looked terrible and his fight wasn't nearly as strong or intense as it had been in DC. If Steve hadn't been trying to not hurting his friend, the fight would be going much differently. Even as he blocked another punch and flipped Bucky away from him, Steve was cataloging the other man's condition.

Bucky was skinny, his hair hung in oily strands around his face. His face was the worst. It was drawn in pain, dark circles below his eyes. His skin was grayish and sickly looking. Bucky was sweating even though there was a chill in the air, but Steve didn't think it was exertion, not yet. His friend had to be in a lot of pain. Even the blows that they traded didn't carry the power they had in DC. Steve's moment of distraction cost him a punch to his side that cracked ribs. Even if Bucky wasn't at his best, he was still deadly.

"I can help you, Buck. Think. You've known me my whole life." He wheezed out, catching his breath through the pain. There had to be a way to get through to his friend. Some of his memories had to be in there. Steve refused to believe anything else. "You earned extra money helping old man Wilson repair radios in his shop and took us to Coney Island. You wanted to ride the Cyclone."

The assassin stopped moving. He narrowed his eyes, then seemed to pause for a second.. "You threw up all over me, Punk," he said, his voice uncertain and questioning but with a shadow of the trademark Bucky sardonic smirk threatening. That one sentence made Steve's heart sing. Bucky remembered at least something of him, of their childhood.

"Yeah, jerk," Steve couldn't keep the emotion out of his voice as he allowed his stance to loosen and his shield to lower. Bucky seemed to ease up as well, turning confused eyes to Steve's, but just as relief filled Steve, the other man was hit with pain. He clenched his teeth and flinched away like his whole body was racked with it. His metal arm spasmed and Bucky staggered backwards a few steps.

"No!" Bucky screamed, anguish filling his voice. Steve wasn't consciously aware of the impulse that had him drop his shield and rush to catch his friend before the man could hit the ground. Everything happened in a split second. Bucky, didn't fall, he pulled himself straight and lunging at Steve. "Complete the mission, obey," the assassin ground out as his metal hand clenched around Steve's throat.

There was no time to react. Steve's heart twisted at the play of emotions across his friend's face before they'd been wiped out by a look of agony. It crossed Steve's mind that he'd reacted a second too late, dropped his guard too fast. He felt his air closing off. He tried to reach, block, but the only way out of the hold he was in was to use his legs and possibly snap his friend's spine. He had the angle to make the kick work, but he couldn't do that. Even to save himself, he couldn't kill or maim his best friend. Time slowed down as Steve tried to pull oxygen into his lungs. He could hold out much longer than an unenhanced human, but he was still human and the lack of air was starting to get to him.

They were fighting right above Nat and Oliver, but neither would hear. No one was coming to help and Steve was out of options. No matter what, he couldn't kill his best friend. Bucky was his brother in everything but blood. A part of him kept thinking that Bucky would remember, relent, save his life like he'd done in DC.

Felicity's face flashed before his eyes. Buck wasn't going to let him go, this was it. He was going to die. He had so much left to do but at least the avengers would take care of Felicity and Oliver and Starling city. Black started to rush in. Steve's fingers on Bucky's shoulder started to slip. He'd been trying to get under the arm, dislodge it somehow, but it hadn't worked.

Just as his vision was fading, the pressure let up. Suddenly Steve and Bucky were in a pile of limbs on the pavement and Steve could breath again. He sucked in great gasps of air. Natasha was standing over him. "Thank you," he croaked, his voice harsh around the damage to his throat. He struggled to sit up to see what damage had been done to Bucky. He could feel Buck's heartbeat under his fingers. He wasn't dead, just unconscious.

"Wasn't me," Nat told him, helping him.

"Sara saw what was going on, came in the front and alerted us. She is the one that knocked Barnes out." Steve raised eyes to see the blond pulling a dart out of Buck's neck. Oliver was checking his pulse.

"Pit Viper Venom," Sara said without him asking. "It sedates the Mirakuru crowd. Was hoping it would work on him. You didn't seem like you wanted him dead."

"Thank you, Sara," he told her sincerely, surprised and grateful at the same time. Steve accepted Oliver's hand to pull himself up. He didn't waste any time reaching down and lifting Bucky into his arms. His ribs screamed at him, but they would heal. The man weighed nothing close to what he should have. Steve's heart broke again. He tried to focus on the fact that his best friend was alive and for a moment, safe.