A/N: Second to last chapter! Thanks for reviewing :)

16. If I could be somebody else

The apartment is dark when he arrives, sneaking in through the window. Silently, he pads across the wooden floors to make sure it is as empty as it appears. Satisfied, he goes to the living room and sits down on the couch to wait. He doesn't know how long he sits there, alone with his thoughts, before the welcome sound of the door being unlocked brings him back to the present. Rising quietly, he moves to stand against the wall, out of sight.

The door opens and the lights are turned on in the entryway, shining into the living room where he stands. Footsteps can be heard in the front of the apartment, and he waits patiently until they approach his hiding spot. As soon as the figure comes into view next to him, he grabs her and pins her against the wall, covering her mouth with his right hand.

Her eyes are very wide at first, but then she glares at him and doesn't struggle. "I'm sure you have all kinds of security measures in place here. If I let you go, will you disable them?" he asks quietly.

Still glaring, she nods slowly, and he steps back. "What the hell are you doing here?" she demands, moving a few feet away and inputting a code on a wall-mounted keypad.

"I need your help, Sharon," he answers.

She turns to look at him, appraising. "For what?"

"For Steve."

Her eyes close for a moment and she nods. "Alright. What do you need?"

"Are you ready?" he asks Sam, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded over his chest.

Sam smiles up at him with a nod before getting to his feet. "Yeah, I'm all set. You're sure you want to do this?"

His mouth is set in a grim line. "After what he said today to those reporters… I need to talk some sense in him, and he's holed up in that helicarrier all the time now."

Taking a deep breath, Sam looks at him appraisingly. "Can you blame him?"

"For hiding? No. But I can for what he said. He doesn't get to decide when Steve needs someone to take his place. He doesn't get to say who will take up the shield if Steve… when Steve no longer needs it."

Sam nods. "Alright. But, Bucky, don't do anything stupid."

He smiles. "I'll try."

"Those security measures look pretty damn operational," Sam's voice buzzes in his ear. The wind is too loud to be able to hear him without comm devices.

He resists the urge to shift uncomfortably in Sam's grip. "I've got a friend in there," he replies, hoping that it's true.

Sam snorts, but maneuvers them closer to the helicarrier. It is at least as heavily armed as those they destroyed from Project Insight. But Sharon does what she promised, and they managed to land unharmed and unnoticed. The deck is empty of personnel, and hopefully the cameras are disabled, or they will have an unpleasant surprise waiting for them.

"I can't believe you talked me into this," Sam grumbles as he puts his wings away.

"It wasn't hard," he replies lightly.

Shaking his head, Sam takes off his pack and stashes it behind some crates away from the door. "Well, try not to get anyone killed in there. See you on the other side."

"Thanks, Sam," he says sincerely, shaking his hand. Sam nods, then heads out toward one of the quinjets. He'll make a nice distraction with it while he goes to find Stark, so he can't stick around to watch.

The corridors in the helicarrier are somewhat familiar, but he must retrace his steps twice when he gets lost. It's a big place. Avoiding the agents inside is also difficult, but he is more equipped to do that. He does wish he'd asked Natalia to help, though. The bridge is well-manned, but a quick glance convinces him not to linger, and he heads toward the quarters on the ship. Those are less populated, but, again, do not contain what he's looking for. So he heads down to the labs on the lower level. Success.

Silently, he slips inside and presses a button on his arm. Barton rigged it to release an EMP signal, after he explained what the arrow he'd given him on the last mission was. It's very useful, and the room immediately goes dark.

"What the hell?" Stark mutters, not immediately aware of the situation.

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing," he replies, grabbing Stark by the collar and tossing him away from the lab table. Away from any tools he might use to defend himself.

Stark climbs to his feet, blinking in the darkness, taking in the situation. "Barnes?" he asks incredulously. "Thought you were getting your head shrunk."

Frowning slightly, he takes a menacing step toward the smaller man. "What were you thinking?" he snarls. "Captain America's not dead."

With a cold smile, Stark shakes his head slowly. "No, but they froze him."

"What?!" Without thinking, he reaches out with his left hand and grabs him by the throat.

"Whoa, that's a little close, buddy," Stark says, grasping ineffectually at the metal.

"What do you mean they froze him?" he demands slowly, enunciating carefully.

Stark swallows a little painfully around his hold. "I mean they thought operating might kill him, and doing nothing would kill him, so they put him in cryofreeze to, you know, delay having to make a decision. Why, is it unpleasant? Because I was thinking I might want to, you know, take some time off one of these days."

He tightens his grip so Stark will shut up. Steve's frozen? Like he was? It wasn't a good experience, but probably not the worst that he's had. "Is that why you told them we need a new Cap?" he wants to know.

Stark struggles a little bit and he relents but doesn't release him. "I screwed up, kid, I know. Cap was right. But the bad guys are taking advantage of our little tiff, and it's going to take more than just me to bring them down. Look, I'm glad you came by and I'd love to chat, but this isn't exactly comfortable," he whines.

Glaring, he drops him and steps back a few feet. "Who?"

"Well, HYDRA's still a thing, you know. And that one fella, that guy who survived the helicarrier crashing into the Triskelion. Yeah, it seems he's got quite the following these days, especially since they're saying he killed Captain America."

"Rumlow?"

"That's the guy," Stark says, nodding.

He looks hard at the other man, considering his truthfulness. "So, why haven't you tracked him down? Killed him or taken him in?"

"My hands are a little full these days, what with country-wide protests and the general, you know, distrust of the intelligence agency I'm trying to get off the ground again."

"Sam's right," he says.

"What?"

He shakes his head, refusing to answer. "I have the shield. I'm not going to give it to someone else just because you think they should be Captain America. Just because you think we need one. You're not exactly the most qualified person to determine Steve's legacy," he growls.

Stark actually smiles at him, causing his frown to deepen. "I was hoping you'd bring that up. You're completely right. Bucky Barnes is definitely the most qualified person to represent Steve Rogers' Legacy. So, tell me, Soldier, do you think Bucky's available?"

"What are you talking about?" he asks warily, fists clenching.

"Come with me," Stark replies, turning and heading deeper into the lab. Slowly, suspiciously, he follows him back to an area that resembles an office. Stark opens the drawers until he finds a folded piece of paper, which he hands over.

Still watching Stark, he opens it and is startled to see Steve's handwriting. "What is this?" he gasps.

"He sent it to me the day he got shot. Trying to make amends. Wish I'd have listened sooner," Stark mutters, busying himself with arranging the papers strewn on the desk.

Glancing carefully at Stark every few moments, he reads the letter. Most of it addresses the cause of their schism, but he is surprised to find himself mentioned. Steve insisted that he not be monitored like Stark wanted, and it was obvious that he was at least a strong influence in Steve's decision to oppose Stark's plan. As he continues to read, it strikes him that Steve might have known someone would try something at the press conference. It reads too much like a last request, and he swallows painfully.

Steve was, as always, worried about the people he cared most about. He asked Stark to take care of Bucky, to give him a way to help. He said that, if it came to it, the country would need a new Captain America. And who better to carry on his legacy than his best friend?

"It's not me anymore," he murmurs, struggling to keep the tears from his eyes as he reads what his friend wanted.

Stark looks up at him. "But it could be," he offers.