When T'Challa's phone erupts into its ringtone, everyone stares at him. "Speaker?" requests Scott.

Wanda keeps bouncing baby Nathaniel, hoping to listen. The baby smiles at her and Wanda laughs. If she's about to die, she want to cling to whatever happiness she has left.

"Yo," says a familiar voice. Steve's jaw drops. Bruce rubs his face.

"Who is this?" T'Challa demands.

"Name's Nick Fury. This is the King of Wakanda, right?"

"Fury!" Tony yells. "About time!"

"He's the one who assembled you all in the first place, right?" asks Peter Parker, eyes wide.

"Yes," Thor breathes, leaning in.

"Okay then," Laura says. "Kids? Come with me." Wanda hands over the baby, scrunching up her face.

"So, Fury," Clint says. "Please tell me you know the mess we're in."

"Well, you're not in that much of a mess anymore." Fury chuckles. "Let's just say no nukes will be going off. For maybe, like, forever. Their code's been scrambled."

"How is that possible?" T'Challa demands. Steve claps his hands against the side of his face.

Wanda hardly dares to hope. She glances at Vision, whose mouth hangs open.

"Well, in all fairness, you might have to worry about them showing up on your doorstep now," Fury admits.

"What?" T'Challa yelps.

"Fury, can you back up and explain?" Steve requests. "We're all a little confused."

"Putting it mildly," grumbles Rhodey.

"Someone came to warn me."

"Who?" demands Bruce. Jane sits next to him, frowning. Thor told her to leave, and she refused. Wanda respects that.

"Is that Banner? You're back?" Fury's impressed.

"Fury—Natasha's—" Clint starts.

"We'll talk when I arrive. I'm gonna be there soon."

"What? Won't they shoot you down?" Sam asks. "Do you need me to fly in?"

"Nah, we're traveling a different way. A new way, for me at least. See you soon."

"How did you find out precisely where my palace is?" T'Challa shouts.

Click.

"Is someone getting fired?" Scott asks.

"Maybe." T'Challa paces.

"He doesn't know about Loki, though, does he?" Thor asks.

"I'd assume not," Clint grunts, grabbing his bow.

"I really don't fault your friend," Sif says quietly, to Steve. "Loki's good at deceiving people. And from what you tell me, he was desperate."

Steve exhales. "I know."

"You should talk to him," Wanda says. "I'm sure he feels responsible for the nuclear threat, too. Depending on how much you shared, Sam."

"Everything," Sam confirms.

"I know when I felt like all those lives were lost—and endangered—because of me—" Wanda bites her lip. "I felt like I was a bad person, and when you feel like that, it's kind of impossible to go on without imploding."

"Not me. I'm more than okay with it," announces Rocket. Drax huffs.

Steve nods. "Call me when Fury gets here."

"You never were a bad person," Vision tells her, taking her hand.

"I allied myself with Ultron to get revenge on the very people we're in this room with," Wanda points out. She can still see their faces, her countrymen. Her brother.

All those bullets…

"You made a bad choice," Vision says. "You weren't a bad person."

"I wasn't exactly on the side of life, and isn't that your whole premise for good and bad?" Wanda retorts.

Vision frowns. "I'm not sure anymore."

Behind them, Tony watches with his arms crossed.


"Hey." The door cracks open, and Bucky sees Steve, of all people, entering. His heart leaps. Guilt squirms, tethers reaching up to grasp and drown any hope. Bucky drops his eyes.

Yes, Steve, I made a deal with a mortal enemy of you and your friends because I didn't trust that you would be able to fix me. And now Nat's dead.

"Bucky?" Steve asks, coming closer.

What can he even say? Sam was easier to talk to. Bucky has way less history with Sam. Steve will either forgive him like always or hate him, and Bucky doesn't think he can handle either of those.

"Which Bucky are you right now?" Steve asks, and Bucky flinches. Steve sighs. There's your answer.

"Look at me," Steve requests.

Bucky's neck stiffens. The floor's tiles run uneven.

"Look at me, please." Steve's voice catches.

Dammit. Bucky cranes his neck and meets his friend's eyes. Steve's jaw is set. He swallows.

"Did Sam tell you everything?" Bucky blurts out.

"Yeah." Steve exhales.

"I'm an idiot."

Steve doesn't say anything. He drops down next to Bucky. "Maybe."

Oh, for God's sake. You're still that innocent, optimistic kid, aren't you? "Maybe? I make a deal with someone who tried to take over the world, and that's all you can say?"

"Does making an idiotic choice make you an idiot?" Steve asks, raising his eyebrows.

"I don't know. I haven't been able to make my own choices in… a long time. And once I can, I make a terrible one. Natasha shouldn't have been dragged in, but she was. The Kree shouldn't have shown up, but they did. I shouldn't have been able to get the infinity gauntlet, but I did, and now it's in the hands of a lunatic."

"How did you get it?" Steve inquires.

Bucky snorts. "Natasha used the words. The code words. To turn me back into the Winter Soldier. We knew each other before, you know. We worked together once. Twice. A few times."

Steve's eyes widen. Nat never told you, did she?

And there are things Bucky can never tell him. Nat loved me, and she's dead. "I'm more useful as a weapon than I am as a person."

"That's not true."

"Yes, it is." Bucky leans his head back against the cool wall. He can't live if he stays the Winter Soldier, and he can't go back to Bucky Barnes because he's not that person anymore. He's a mess, a project gone wrong in all the ways he could go wrong. And still Steve sits next to him, naïve. "Why are you still here? Why are you still my friend? Are you that blind?"

"No, Bucky, I can see," Steve snaps. "You're the one who can't. You're still—look, I know you're not the same person you were when we were kids fooling around in Brooklyn. Neither am I. But there's still a part of that in you, and—"

"And what if you don't like the rest of me?" Bucky asks. "You know I'm an assassin. It doesn't matter that I wouldn't have done it if I had my own mind."

"I doubt it," Steve says, anger flashing in his eyes. "You're my friend. It doesn't matter what you become, what you choose—I'll still always—you'll always be my friend. I'll always care."

Bucky covers his face with his one hand. Why? Why? Steve's too good of a person. He's always been too good.

"When you fell, I thought—that was the worst moment in my life. It still is. I couldn't—I felt like a failure," Steve admits. "And you were alive the whole time—"

"Sort of. And you couldn't have known." Bucky's not sure what he would call his life as the Winter Soldier. Was it a life, when it was dedicated to stealing the lives of others?

"What happened?" Steve asks. "What did they do to make you—to—do you remember?"

Bucky's back stiffens. "I remember… some of it."

"What do you remember?" Steve asks.

His mind doesn't like venturing down those paths. Bucky swallows. He can hear Steve breathing, in and out. "I remember waking up and it felt like all my bones were shattered. And I looked over and my arm was gone. And there was this scientist—they kept injecting me with these substances, whatever they were, that made my bones feel like they were melting. They put my metal arm on, and all the while they kept playing those words, and recordings. Whenever I asked a question about you or about anything, really, they would hit me, beat me. And then I was asleep for awhile, and then there were more recordings, and more—" His fist tightens. "More everything, and then I killed people, and I remember their faces, I remembered their faces, and I couldn't have told you that I had a name at that point, or that there was anything beyond that lab they kept me in. That there ever had been anything. I didn't remember." I should have.

"They tortured you?" Steve's voice shakes with rage.

"Are you really that surprised?" Bucky asks wryly.

"No. I figured. But—" Steve blows out his breath.

"I didn't matter. I mattered because I was a tool, something they could use, that never failed. Any time I showed any glimmer of humanity—" Bucky clenches his fist and thinks of Natasha. "They sent me to reconditioning. And I'd come out with little to no memories again. If I asked questions, they beat me." He smirks. "I remember when I first saw you again. You called me Bucky, and it confused me because it was like just under the surface, like I should know, but I couldn't figure out who Bucky was or why you were asking me that instead of trying to kill me. I asked why you acted as if you knew me, and they slapped me. And fixed that problem for awhile, until that fight in the helicarrier."

"And you saved me from the river," Steve finishes.

"Yeah."

"You know," Steve begins. "Even if your mind is never fully healed, I'll still be there for you."

"Why?" Bucky asks again. You stupid kid.

"Don't look at me like that. I'm not an idiot."

"No," Bucky admits. "I'm currently the one who wins that title."

"Maybe," Steve agrees. "But Buck, I need you in the upcoming fight. Against Thanos. You're the best hope we've got besides Thor—maybe better than Thor, because you beat him before."

"I don't know how helpful I'll be. I don't want to go back to that mindless—every time I come out, I'm scared I won't the next time. I don't want to die without my mind."

"I won't let you." Steve wraps his arms around him, and God, it's been forever since Bucky hugged anyone. He doesn't even know what to do.

"Hey!" Sam strides into the room. "Hate to break up the Bro-fest, but we've got Fury in the house. We think. Something just beamed down Asgardian style."

"You coming?" Steve clambers to his feet and holds out his hand.

"Is Tony there?" Bucky asks.

"He won't kill you when there's bigger fish to fry," Sam says. "I don't think."

"Come on."

Bucky lets Steve pull him to his feet. He stumbles out into the hallway, to a conference room where the rest of the Avengers, including Thor, have gathered. Clint perches like a hawk on the edge of the windowsill, Bruce pacing nearby. Thor and a woman dressed in armor sit stiff at the table. Clint and Tony both scowl.

"Hey," Scott says, waving.

"Where's Fury?" Steve asks.

"Coming up with T'Challa and Wanda," Vision responds just as an African-American man with an eye patch strides inside. "You really don't need to worry," he calls over his shoulder.

"Long time no see," Tony comments.

Fury shakes his head as if to say what the hell have you all been up to? He peers around the room, taking in Sif, Scott, the Guardians, and Peter Parker. His eyes linger on Bucky. "Roster's really grown."

Me?

"Good, 'cause it sounds like we're gonna need it," Fury continues, as T'Challa walks into the conference room, followed by a woman with red hair.

Oh my God.

"Nat!" scream Steve, Clint, and Bruce. "You're alive!" cries Thor.

"Holy shit," gasps Sam, exchanging a look with Rhodey. Tony pinches the bridge of his nose as if to keep from crying.

Bucky can't breathe. He saw that temple explode. She couldn't have survived. How?

Steve saw you fall.

Natasha wraps her arms around her friends. Bruce, Sif, the Guardians, and Bucky both hang back, although Sif, Peter Quill, and Gamora exchange smiles. Gamora's eyes carry a haunted quality with them. "Are you crying, Clint?"

"He said you were dead," Clint mutters.

Natasha meets Bucky's eyes. He takes a step back as she pushes past the rest of the Avengers and races towards him, throwing her arms around him. She doesn't speak.

"How are you alive?" Bucky ekes out. "I thought—I saw—"

"Master of illusion," Natasha mumbles.

He's coming undone, falling apart. His hand shakes, his breath catches, throat tightens. Something wet hits his eyes. "I was so—you—"

Natasha grabs him by the back of the head and pulls him down, her lips closing around his. And it's like diving into fresh water, like he's finding his mind, like a second chance because she's here, alive, and it's not a dream tainted by what will never be. She's here.

"Holy mother of—"

"What the blasted hell?" Tony demands.

"I am Groot!"

"When did this become a thing?" Clint squeaks.

"Now that's better than tears," comments Rocket.

"I like it," declares Drax.

Bucky pulls away, and she's smiling at him. Beyond her, Sam shrugs and Steve's mouth hangs open. Vision smiles.

Natasha's eyes skitter back to Bruce, who hugs himself. What happened between you? Bucky wonders. "I told Loki we had to come back—" Natasha starts.

"Loki?" Thor demands.

"You can ask him yourself," Wanda announces, entering the room behind the god Bucky's only seen pictures of, wrapping in what looks like Wanda's red magic working as ropes. And he does not look pleased to be there.


"You monster!" Thor lunges at Loki, but the red witch sends him backwards.

"Not now, Thor!"

Sif's blade aims directly at him, a scowl embedded in her face. Bruce glowers from the back of the room. Losing his girlfriend probably hasn't helped the Hulk.

And Jane Foster appears. Brilliant. Everyone who hates Loki is gathered in this room—Iron Man, the righteous captain, the hawk, who currently has a n arrow drawn back in his bow and is probably itching to release it. The stupid one-eyed agent.

And Natasha and Bucky, who don't hate him.

And Gamora. She takes a step towards him, blocking Clint's aim. "You came."

"You left Thanos," Loki manages. "I'm impressed."

She cocks her head. T'Challa, the earthly king, steps closer to her. Sif's blade rises.

"Stop!" Gamora shouts.

"He's kind of important when it comes to taking down Thanos," Natasha says. "Considering he has the infinity gauntlet."

"Hand it over," Thor orders, eyebrows clumped together. He knows what's become of Odin, Loki realizes. Guilt chews at his stomach.

"Why would I hand over my only bargaining chip?" he demands, lifting his chin. When you're weak, act like you're strong.

It's what Odin taught him.

When you want to cower, keep your head held high.

I think that backfired for both of your kids, Loki thinks.

"If you want to live, you will," Sif snaps.

"Still trailing along after my brother, hoping he'll notice you?" Loki mocks.

Gamora glares at him. "What is your problem?"

"I'll give it to you," Loki says. "Gamora. No one else." You I trust. You've seen Thanos. "You know it won't be long until he comes for it."

"We know," says Peter Quill. "And we like being alive, so we're not going to let him."

"You killed some of my friends in your attack," snarls what looks like a teenage boy. His hands curl into fists.

"No punching yet," admonishes Iron Man.

"What happens after I give it over?" Loki asks. His pulse hammers in his throat. Natasha and Bucky exchange a glance.

"You'll tell us what you know," Captain America states.

"Don't make us tell you," Sam chuckles.

Loki flinches. Thor frowns.

"Uh, poor choice of words," hisses Rhodey.

"Here." Gamora steps closer, holding her hand out. Her eyes meet his and there's no animosity, no pity. Just acceptance. It's what Loki has always admired about her.

"Nebula?" he asks.

She shakes her head, and now there's sorrow. "I don't know."

Waiting for her sister, who never showed her any kindness. Loki's eyes skitter to Thor and his heart seizes.

Jane backs up to Bruce, murmuring to him.

Loki glances to the red witch, who lessens her magic. Loki pulls out the gauntlet and offers it to Gamora. She hesitates, and then snatches it.

The magic tightens again.

"Thanos has no plans to work out a deal with your government," Loki blurts out as Gamora turns away. "Don't let them trade him for peace. You won't get any." He nods to the purple cyborg.

"I know," T'Challa says softly. Gamora hands it over to him. Loki bites his tongue. "Wanda, take him to the room we kept Bucky in."

"So who gets to interrogate him?" asks a man Loki doesn't recognize. Is this the ant man?

"Me," Thor growls.

Loki clenches his fists.

"No," says Bucky. "It should be me. And Wanda."

The woman nods. "We can do it."

"No way," Tony says. "I don't trust you."

"Why you?" demands Sif. "We know him best."

"Maybe," Bucky agrees. "But—" He glances at Wanda.

Wanda leads Loki towards the door. She pauses. "We know what it's like to be murderers."

Tony closes his eyes. "So do I."