"You made a deal with him?" spits Natasha, glowering at Bucky as if he's the devil himself.

"Why is she here?" asks Loki pointedly.

"She—" Bucky swallows. His arm throbs. A missing metal arm shouldn't ache, though, in multiple ways. But it does.

"You've travelled far outside of your realm, little—"

"Have you forgotten what happened last time we met?" Natasha returns, glancing around as if expecting to see a big green hero leap over the desolate mountains. Bucky saw the news reports after New York. "I don't care that you helped Thor when the elf tried to destroy the world."

"Elves?" Bucky asks. Does this have to do with Greenwich?

"Never mind."

"She wasn't supposed to come here," Loki says to Bucky.

"She jumped into your—whatever that was." Bucky tries not to notice how angry Natasha looks. "He said if I did one thing for him he could cure—"

"Bifrost," Loki says.

"Bucky, why did you believe him?" Natasha asks. "Thor said his nickname was 'Silvertongue.' Lying and manipulating are what he—"

Shame curdles in Bucky's stomach.

"And you're one to talk about that, aren't you?" Loki asks. "I have seen your ledger, Romanoff. How you carried out that hospital mission—"

"What mission do you have for me?" Bucky asks, stepping forward with Loki's words echoing in his mind. He looks back at Natasha, who's looking at Loki with distinct sadness in her eyes.

What was this hospital mission? he wonders.

"I need you to help me steal something from Thanos."

"Who's Thanos?" Bucky asks.

"The mad Titan, some call him." Loki's lips curve up in a smile as he watches Bucky frown. "He has something he plans to use to destroy—"

"So, a weapon," states Bucky, his mind clambering to get back into the tunnel vision mode he'd slip into whenever they gave him a task to complete, where the mission became the only think that matters, where it echoed with his every heartbeat and burned in his brain until he completed it.

Or, until Steve told him he was with him till the end of the line, and fell, and something like softness, like memories of children laughing and saving pennies for ice cream, of loyalty beyond just a mission, whispered to him.

Loki scowls. "More like something to hold a few weapons. Superweapons, really." He narrows his eyes at Natasha. "Thanos is the one who I partnered with to unleash the Chitauri on New York."

Bucky grits his teeth.

"So, you're playing your former ally," Natasha says, swallowing. She doesn't look at Bucky, but the message hits him just the same.

Who's to say he won't play you, too?

"He has no idea I'm alive," Loki says. "And I'd like to keep it that way. Aren't there days you'd like to play dead, little spider?" But his eyes latch on to Bucky's.

That wasn't what I was doing.

I just wanted to give them time—protect them—

Natasha crosses her arms.

"Natasha," Bucky says, and she looks at him with her brow furrowed. Loki cocks his head. "He says he can fix my mind, if I—"

"Just collect this one item for me," Loki interrupts. "That's all. And then I can fix your mind with Gungnir—" He brandishes his staff. "—and I'll leave your precious earth alone."

"You seemed very interested in not leaving our precious earth alone a few years ago," Natasha says.

"That was before." Loki glances away.

Natasha steps forward. "Where is this Thanos?"

"Near here. In-between realms." Loki smirks.

"She's not coming with me," Bucky says.

"My other alternative is to kill her, so—" Loki starts.

"Because you can't erase that from my mind?" Natasha asks sweetly. "Because if you can so easily erase his mind of years of torture, I would think you'd be able to—"

Bucky's gaze snaps to Loki, who blinks as if rattled. "Are you inviting me to mess with your mind?"

"You can't fix me, can you?" Bucky manages.

"I can, but it's not through erasing," Loki answers smoothly. Bucky's stomach roils as blood surges through him. If this gamble doesn't pay off, and they're stuck out here in—in space? In-between realms, whatever the hell that mean?

"I know what you're trying to do, Romanoff. Who's manipulating now?"

Natasha bites her lip.

"You don't have to trust me," Loki tells them. "But what other options do you have?"

None. Like the air in this place. It clearly exists, or something like it because Bucky can breathe, but there's no cold or heat, no breeze, nothing convince him that this place isn't dust and rocks and nothingness.

Bucky clenches the one fist he has left. He can't bear to think of letting Steve down again, and the longer they're gone—

"If I know you wouldn't betray Steve, he knows the same," Natasha says softly as she sidles up next to him.

He blinks and looks at her. "You trust me?"

"I don't trust anyone." And neither should you, comes her unspoken warning. Her eyes, blue and green and a little gray, harden as if she's trying to clock him from seeing something, or block something in her own mind.

"If you'd like to get some necessary information that could help you actually accomplish this, I suggest you come closer," Loki says, leaning against a crumbling bolder as if he couldn't care less. But Bucky—and maybe Natasha too—senses a tightness in his tone.

You need us, don't you?

"Why are you turning against Thanos, if you used to work with him?" Bucky asks as he approaches.

"Why did you turn against Hydra? Against Russia?" Loki slams his staff into the dirt.

"I didn't want to be a monster," Bucky says. He didn't want to add more faces to his already infinite list. He didn't want to let down the one person who begged him, who said he was with him until the end of the line.

Natasha crosses her arms and doesn't answer.

"Well, Thanos is a monster," Loki declares. "And if you don't manage to steal the Infinity Gauntlet from him, he will hunt down all of the Infinity Stones and destroy everything in the Nine Realms. Starting with Midgard."

"What?" Natasha demands.

"The Infinity Guantlet is a powerful gauntlet, and there are two. One is safely locked away in Asgard's vault—"

Natasha's eyes gleam, and Bucky smirks. As conniving as Loki thinks he is, Bucky has the feeling hat next time Natasha hears from Thor, his brother's going to find out just where Loki's hiding.

"And he has the other, along with the Time gem and the Soul Gem. There are four more stones that he doesn't have, not yet."

"Where are those?" Bucky demands.

"The Mind Stone is inside your purple friend; the Aether is with a certain collector, and the Tesseract is in Asgard's vault. The Power stone is on Xandar."

"Where the hell is that?" Bucky asks.

"Irrelevant to you," Loki says. "If you get this gauntlet, you can save Midgard. Isn't that kind of your business?" he asks Natasha.

"The Tesseract is a magic space gem?" Bucky scowls.

"Yes." Loki glowers, and as easy as it would be to dismiss him, they have no other options. And what's worse, the lack of any sort of sneer in Natasha's eyes tells Bucky that Loki might just be telling the truth.

You barely know her. Why do you feel as if you can read her?

Natasha casts Bucky another glare, as if somehow this Thanos's movements are all his fault, because he left Steve. "I don't like this."

"What you like and don't like isn't my priority," Loki says, bored.

"I still think this might be a mistake," Natasha says, staring directly at Bucky and he doesn't know why, why that word—mistake—echoes, why it whispers as if it holds the key to something that, yet again, he doesn't remember.

This. This is exactly why I have to do this.

"Haven't you ever been desperate before?" he asks.


"Daddy!"

Steve leans back against the wall, watching as Clint clutches his daughter and son to his chest. Scott and Wanda look on, both with ghosts haunting their smiles.

Two days. Two days, and they still have nothing on Bucky or Natasha. Steve could punch Thor the next time he sees him. All of Wakanda's top-notch scientists haven't been able to help, and when Steve called Jane Foster for help, she told him that if Thor was involved, he could go to hell.

A hand clamps on his shoulder. T'Challa. "Let's talk."

"How's Tony?" Steve asks as he follows T'Challa down a hallway.

"Your friend is…" T'Challa hesitates. "Lost."

"Still angry, I presume?" Sam adds as he joins them.

"I don't blame him," Steve says.

"Neither do I," T'Challa affirms. "When I thought your friend had killed my father, I had the same reaction."

"But you realized he didn't do it," Sam supplies.

"And I saw you all tearing each other apart. I realized that was not what my father wanted, and more importantly, it wasn't what I wanted for myself," T'Challa says.

"But now Bucky's gone," Steve blurts out. "And I can't even search for him, because I have no idea how to travel to another universe—"

"Realm; he calls them realms," Sam interrupts.

"Realm," Steve acquiesces. "I don't like feeling helpless."

"No one does," T'Challa says, and Steve remembers that T'Challa was in the U.N. building, survived while his father died.

"He was always there growing up. Always defended me. And it kills me that I'm completely helpless," Steve says.

"The only person who can maybe figure out something about contacting Asgard is Jane Foster, and she's refusing to have anything to do with Asgard and Thor," Sam translates. "I don't think she's taken well to being abandoned by her boyfreind again. Not that I blame her. Like come on, Thor."

T'Challa snorts in laughter. "We'll see if she says no to the king of Wakanda,"

"Um, if she suspects you have something to do with the Avengers, probably she will," Sam says.

"Even if she does, I'll offer more than enough to finance her research for years to come," T'Challa says. "She can choose to stay in Wakanda or return to—where is it she's from?"

"She's American, but she lives in London," Steve says.

"Why're you so eager to help?" Sam questions. "I mean, you've dedicated so much time and so many resources—""

"Sam," Steve cuts in.

"Because it's what my father would have done," T'Challa says. "Help people. Protect his people, and his country, and his friends. I know I'm not my father, but I'm still trying to figure out how to be a king."

"We appreciate it," Steve says.

"The girl—Wanda," T'Challa says. "Her visions."

Steve winces. "Yep, been on the receiving end of that before."

"I saw my father die again, and I saw Wakanda collapsing," T'Challa admits. "And my father was watching. I don't know what it means."

"Aren't they just hallucinations?" Sam asks.

"Maybe not," Steve says quietly, his brain churning. "Although I'm sure—"

"Her powers did come from that scepter, didn't they? And that's from another world," T'Challa muses.

"But Wakanda won't collapse," Sam says.

"No, it won't," agrees T'Challa.


"How is this disguise going to work when I'm missing an arm?" Bucky asks.

Loki scoffs and waves his hand. Natasha almost yelps when she sees an arm appear.

"That's an illusion," Loki says. "It'll last for—enough. Enough time for you to steal the gauntlet and jump through that portal I mentioned."

"I thought I'd never have to see Chitauri anything again," mumbles Natasha.

"Surprise," Loki says with a smirk.

"The Chitauri serve Thanos?" Bucky questions.

"They're one of many species that have sworn their loyalty, yes," Loki answers.
Natasha sees his grip on that staff he's carrying tighten. His knuckles blanch.

"Why would they agree to serve him?" Natasha asks.

"Promises that, even if they turn out to be lies, offer something in the meantime," Loki says.

"Hope?" Natasha taunts.

"Purpose."

And you? What purpose did he offer you? Natasha wonders.

Loki's eyes flash as if he realizes that, just like on the helicarrier, he's said too much.

"Thank you," says Natasha, remembering Thor describing how his brother fell into the void.

"If we get caught, I assume you want us to die without mentioning you," Bucky says.

"I want you not to get caught. That's why I chose you. Famous Winter Soldier, the one whose very existence is just a rumor. It would have been easier if it was just you, but—"

"We weren't trained by entirely different groups," Natasha says, glancing at Bucky. His eyes widen. Really? That surprises you?

You remember nothing.

Natasha bites her lip, tastes blood.

"How would you know that?" Loki asks.

"You saw my ledger," Natasha responds. "You know where I came from. We grew up hearing about the Winter Soldier," she adds to Bucky.

"You did?"

"You were used to motivate us. We could never be like you, but we could be close." This place doesn't have heat or chill, and yet goosebumps prickle on Natasha's arm, down her neck.

"I'm sorry," Bucky mumbles.

Natasha shakes her head. "Don't be." She offers him a smile. He blinks and frowns, as if unable to understand why.

I can't ever tell you, can I? It'd destroy you. Natasha digs the toe of her boot into the dirt.

You almost destroyed yourself! The Headmistress's voice echoes in Natasha's mind, followed y a slap she can still feel sting her face, years after.

Loki and Bucky are both watching her, Loki with narrowed eyes and Bucky with a crease between his brows, as if he's trying to place something and can't quite do it. Natasha swallows. "Are we ready?"

"I suppose you are," Loki says.

"And you?" she asks, because she remembers what he did to Clint, how Loki used their friendship to hurt her, to hurt him. Whatever he deciphered from her now—well, she can spin it back, gather her own leverage. Because if her ledger is gushing red, Loki's is a torrent. "Will you go back and help with Thor's mission?"

Loki scowls. "I'll be waiting for you two to get to that portal. What I do while I'm waiting is none of your business."

So, you're worried we won't succeed, Natasha thinks. "I forgot you hate him."

"You would hate having a perfect brother too," Loki retorts, glancing behind his shoulder.

But you don't hate him, do you? "Don't worry. We'll ensure Thanos's rule doesn't threaten yours."

"I have no desire for those gems," Loki snaps.

Natasha wants to laugh, but she can't. There's something haunted in Loki's eyes, a fear she's seen in Bucky's, in her own eyes too.

What did Thanos do to you?

"Let's go," Bucky says.


"Thor, your father's returned," Sif tells him as he flies back from the rainbow bridge. "Thor, what's wrong?"

Thor's face burns. He shakes his head. "Heimdall can't see Natasha."

"One of your warrior friends on Midgard?" questions Fandral.

"Yes." Thor clenches his fists. "Last time he couldn't see someone—Jane would up with the Aether in her body."

"The Aether's safe with the Collector," Voltstagg tells him. "I saw to that myself."

"Excuse me?" retorts Sif.

"With Sif," Voltstagg amends. "We saw to it."

Sif huffs.

"I'll discuss it with Father," Thor decides, thrusting Mjolnir into the air and soaring off.

"The Allfather is tired and will see you tomorrow," one of the Einharjar tells him.

Moments like these, Thor forgets that he's supposed to be patient now. Blood boils as he storms away.

You said you were proud of me. You said—you said so many goddamn things and now you're full of shit. Thor lets out a yell when he reaches his chambers, upending the table set out for him. Meat and puddings and small purple fruits fly through the air.

"He refused to meet with you, didn't he?"

"Leave me alone, Sif. I'm not in a gaming mood." Thor storms past her.

She follows. "I know you're not. That's why I'm came."

"Why, exactly?" Thor rummages through a cabinet until his fist closes around a bottle of mead. He takes a swig.

Sif crosses her arms, her long hair dangling loose. "Because I think it's suspicious that your friend disappears at the same time the Allfather is gone, without public explanation, for two days."

"It's not as if he hasn't taken journeys before, far longer ones," Thor says, chugging more mead. He needs his head to spin. "And he doesn't know Natasha. I may have mentioned her, but he's never cared about the Avengers."

"I know. But Thor, something's not right here, and you have to feel it just as I do," Sif says. A fire cackles behind her. "The Warriors Three and I have been talking—"

"About what?" Thor demands. He offers her the mead. Sif takes it and gulps.

"About the Allfather," Sif admits.

Thor rubs his face and drops onto a sofa.

"He's been acting strangely lately, since your return really," Sif says, almost pleading. "Even before that, he was distant—far more distant than I ever remember, but I assumed that was because you were gone, and your mother and Loki—" She stops.

"Grief tears your heart out," Thor says, thinking of his mother, his brother, Jane. "It's not that unlikely to think he's changed."

"But Thor, something's not right. Your visions—what if they're connected?" Sif sits across from him.

Thor lifts his face, peering at her. The firelight dances across her features, across her umber hair. "What are you saying, Sif?"

"I'm saying, I find it interesting that you have visions of our demise—of Asgard's demise—while the Allfather has been making questionable decisions and exercising weak leadership."

"You think my father—"

"Yes, Thor, I do!" Sif shouts back. "If Asgard is in danger—you and I both know what role Asgard plays in the Nine Realms. If we fall to some outside danger… or maybe, if we fall from within—the entire universe is at stake."

If we fall from within… The fire seems at once too warm and not warm enough. Thor shivers and feels sweat beading on his forehead. "That's a possibility… I hadn't considered. Falling from within."

"What do you want to do?" Sif asks. Her face is so close to his, and her lips—they're a different shape than Jane's.

Jane. Thor shakes himself. Blast, the woman still has his heart. "Call the Warriors Three," he dictates, rising and turning away from Sif, grabbing the mead bottle. "We need to discuss."


"There's news," T'Challa says, jolting Steve from sleep.

"What? Bucky?" Steve pants. The room is still darkened, although an orange strip glows from behind several indigo clouds. Dawn's starting to pry the night away.

"Maybe. Wake up Sam. We need to go."

"Not anyone else?" Steve blinks.

"We need to keep things quiet," T'Challa tells him. "Rehema told me that something… extraterrestrial landed near the mountains."

"So it could be Bucky." Steve rises from his bed.

"It could be," T'Challa agrees. "But there appears to be some sort of vehicle flown in."

Vehicle? "Flown in from where?"

"The atmosphere," T'Challa says.

"Do you mean space?"

"That would be likely, yes."

"This is getting weirder and weirder," Steve says out loud.

T'Challa smiles. "Now get Sam and meet me back here in five minutes."

Sam wakes up with a few choice words, but seems to adjust as he follows Steve back into his room. The hour-long drive to the mountains is quiet, the early morning fog surrounding the car and pressing in on Steve. His anxiety climbs.

"I'll fly ahead," Sam offers when they arrive. "You two run up the mountain."

Something niggles in Steve's mind, eats away at his stomach. The last time he dealt with a cosmic force, thousands died in New York. The last time he heard of a space creature arriving on earth, Greenwich took the hit.

Thor, buddy, we could really use you right now.

"You don't believe this is your friend, do you?" asks T'Challa.

"I don't know," Steve says. "The vehicle—it doesn't make sense. Unless he stole one? From Asgard?"

"Maybe." T'Challa frowns. "There wasn't nearly as strong of a heat surge as was recorded when Bucky and Natasha vanished."

"Holy shit!" Sam's voice filters through their earphones. "Holy—"

"Sam?" Steve shouts. "Are you—"

"Steve, T'Challa, I know this is gonna sound crazy, but a raccoon just yelled at me to stop staring at it."