"Send in the next..." He could hear the interrogator through the door long before his sister emerged with her usual entourage of 'no less than four agents at all times'. As per growing familiarity he wasn't allowed to touch his sister through the wall of bodies that separated them, but the guidelines said nothing about a kind word or in their case... a lighthearted tease.

"Nice braid." He sneered, the remark making claim to the required style she'd chosen through a list that some agent or other had provided. The boy knew his sister hated not having it down at all times. He also knew that she hated people doing her hair for her. All in all it was a pretty good jab.

"You can talk. Ponytail." He feigned a childish whimper, stomped his foot (uncovered for security reasons. but they always made the most unpleasant noise when brought into contact with these particular floor tiles), crossed his arms and pouted. He could hear her chuckle echo down the hall as she was taken away. And then he himself was muscled into that tiny god-awfully quiet room with Wilson last-name-unknown.

"Have a seat, son." Wilson tried his best to sound cheerful, but only succeeded in showing his intolerance for the early day. No doubt sister had an earful to deliver this morning. Sighing mentally, he pulled out the chair and sat down across from the interrogator. Alpha didn't dislike Wilson but he sure as hell didn't like him either. Wilson was in the grey area of 'like or don't like' with the Soldier's friend and the guy who gave the siblings extra portions when he delivered meals. Actually, maybe that guy went into the 'like' department...

"Asset Alpha, please answer the question." Desperation itself broke through the barriers of his thoughts. That and the boy's alias. Asset Alpha wasn't him anymore, nor will it ever be again, so he should probably stop refering to himself as Alpha.

"What question? Were you talking to me?"

"Yes." Wilson looked over the tops of his glasses disapprovingly, his normal mantra of 'I'm here to help' didn't start up as it did at the beginning of every session. Suspicious, or amusing. Eh, he'd find out.

"I asked you the whereabouts of Hydra's current base." Ah. That's why it wasn't amusing. And why Wilson was so bedraggled. Sister was good at what she called "Reverse interrogation", where you give nothing away yet gain all you need. He wasn't so good at it though. The last time the boy tried they ended up in a gulag, then rescued by the Soldier. What amazing times those were. As for the current Hydra base he didn't want to divulge much. These new guys seemed nice, but what was their end game? What would happen to them once all valuable information was extracted?

"As my sister probably explained... We're not in a favorable position to divulge such secrets." He held a confident smirk, hoping to further Wilson's frustrations.

"Yes, as a matter of fact, she went into great detail explaining that to me." Nailed it. Victory enough for the two of them.

"However-" Wilson continued.

"-I think we can negotiate something in regards to your freedom." There's a thought, freedom, life's great lie. You were never free from anyone. There's always someone on your back. Holding you back. Still, it would be pretty amusing to explore the interrogator's deal.

"I'm listening." He mocked interest, leaning his elbows on the table. Still smirking, but with practiced intimidation that made Wilson shift uncomfortably.

"Ehem... You should know that I proposed this to your sister as well before we get started."

"She said to talk to me?"

"Yes. She seemed impartial, but I think a positive opinion might sway-"

"I'm not here to manipulate my sister. Spit it out Wilson."

"Supervised rehabilitation."

"What?" Supervised. Not a fun word. Rehabilitation. An even less fun word. Wilson's proposal was shaping up to be pretty shitty right now.

"It's where you are found a supervisor-"

"I'm not stupid Wilson. I know what it means." The interrogator sighed, rubbing his forehead in the most obvious show of being hopelessly and utterly done-ness. If that was a word.

"Then, if you're so smart, who will be your supervisor?" He thought for a moment, gathering past experiences with something similar Hydra called 'The conditioning period'.

"Not you. You're weak, untrained in defense. Not any of your agents, because if this is freedom then you'll be returning our weaponry to it's rightful power level, therefore you'll need someone a lot stronger. And someone with similar experience that's already been "rehabilitated"." He stressed the word with air quotes, not going to settle for anything less sarcastic than that.

"That's-"

"Right, I know. I'm smart. Now, I'd suggest someone inside this agency- whatever it is." The boy didn't care at all what this place was called, though he'd heard something called "Avengers" when he was being led around. To him it sounded like what a team of vigilantes would call themselves, or a... What was it called? Boy band?

"Now you're suggesting qualities?" As a damn matter of fact...

"Yes. If we're gonna be babysat I should have an input on my babysitter." He crossed his arms over his chest to further his input in the matter. Wilson wasn't amused, nor was he giving any lead-way with the conversation. And then, oh god, he was about to argue.

"You have no rights here, Asset Alpha. May I remind you that you have killed, and tried to kill multiple political figures over the span of fifteen years." Did Wilson think he forgot about all that? No, he didn't forget. in fact, he remembered every life they'd taken in Hydra's name. Every life, and everyone involved. The children, Maggie and Sam, who'd watched their politician father George Darcy as he was thrown from the apartment window to make it look like... And the husband that watched his secretary wife Haley Kurt... The civilian mother and child that witnessed his sister shooting governor Jamison... It stung to remember. Stung like hell to think of the lives he and his sister had ruined in order to please their handlers, to please Hydra. Hydra.

"I remember everything okay!?" He shouted, suddenly on his feet, dents pounded into the shiny table where he'd been sitting.

"So you know where the base is?" Wilson asked, keeping cool.

"Yes. I know where your damn base is." He ground behind his teeth, scowling at the bald man that had somehow stirred those horrible memories that he'd rather forget. He wanted to move on and get out of this circle of death and the memories made within it.

"There is no reason to get upset."

"The hell it isn't! We've killed people. I've killed people. Women, kids, and it HURTS!"

"I understand." No he didn't. No he did not.

"Don't say that. Don't try to make it all better with your useless shrink tactics. There are only two people I know who understand, Wilson."

"And who are they?"

"My sister. And the Soldier."

"Sergeant Barnes?"

"Whatever you call him."

"Sergeant Barnes has been off premises for four weeks." He knew that. If the Soldier had been anywhere near the building they would have heard from him, seen him.

"I know."

"How, Asset Alpha?"

"Deduction, smart ass."

"Please watch your language, we're being recorded." All this talk of killing people and Wilson was warning him about language? Oh he'd show them language. At that point, every manner of explicit words, in every language, erupted from his lips in a flurry of erratic shouting.

"You screwed it up! I leave you with a perfectly malleable situation and you screwed it up!" She didn't know what she hated more. Her brother's stupidity was just a hair ahead of his multilingual vocabulary. She had spent two hours wearing Wilson down to a breaking point and what does this one do? He left the supervised rehab thing open for discussion. She would have done it herself, absolutely, but she figured it would be a good way to let him handle the conversation aspect for once. Boy did she make a big mistake.

"I couldn't help it."

"Like hell." She muttered to herself.

"It could've been worse." He ventured, almost a dare for her to explore the possibilities.

"Yeah. He could've had you muzzled. Actually..." She looked up at the caged security camera riveted to the ceiling of her cell.

"Any chance we could do that?" She asked.

"Shut up!" Her brother protested from his side of the split prison.

"You'll be the one shutting up if I have any say in it." She didn't really mean it, nor would she ever actually want her brother muzzled, but sometimes it was better to show the way she felt by using such terms rather than just yelling at him to shut up. Unlike her brother, who would rather snark and curse in twelve different languages until he either got his way or failed miserably, she tended to take the more thought-out and meticulous route. Things could've been worse, but they could also have gone much better. Both knew this, and both were at least somewhat inclined to correct the mistake.

"Do you know what we're having for lunch?" She twisted her neck around to see what he was doing now, and got a surprise when he was sitting on the floor, leaning on the glass barrier. She sighed, deciding to drop the mental baggage of the day and maybe have an actual conversation with her brother. Even if it was just about lunch.

"It can be anything as long as it's not salad." She said, crossing her room to sit with her back against the corner, shouldering the transparent barrier. She followed her brother's movements closely as he sat and drew on knee up close to his chest, his right hand resting gently on top.

"Do you ever think about what your favorite color is?" Brother's question was off-topic and slightly startling. Favorite? She knew she liked things but never a favorite. She hadn't seen enough of the world for that just yet, and what she had seen of the world was a pretty poor basis. No, she hadn't thought about it until now.

"No. Do you?" He shrugged.

"Yeah."

"What is it?"

"Uh, I like green." It made sense, green was the color of their eyes, the color of grass and trees, the color of the light that flashed on their cryo chambers when they were opened. It was the color of freedom. Freedom which they had yet to achieve through positive or negative means. Negative was more the choice here, but perhaps they'd have to give a little of their pride...

"Hey, about the whole 'You screwed it up' thing, sorry."

"No, I really did screw it up. The whole thing should've just been a definite no. I shouldn't have tried to play genius." He ran the left hand through his hair, ruffling the neatly combed lines and expelling the ponytail holder that was keeping it up. He was unnecessarily apologetic about the whole thing, it was different coming from him.

"It might be better that you left it open. What if we said yes?"

"And let ourselves be micro-chipped and babysat-"

"No. Well, maybe, but we'd have a new chance."

"Sis, we don't even have names let alone a chance at normal life."

"Well then maybe it's time we found names. Right now. What do you want to be called?" His eyebrows shot up.

"Right now? I thought this was going to be a natural thing, you know?"

"We need to build new identities. And building starts with the foundation. Without that, it's gonna be awhile. We don't have the time for that. What do you want to be called?" Both were utterly silent, neither one stirred in the faintest. The journey was starting here for both of them, two paramount decisions were about to be made and no one could stop them. While he pondered, she did as well. Who would she be? She didn't know many normal names. Maybe ones she'd used as an alias during her days with Hydra, but nothing other than that. Teresa? No... Elizabeth? No... Vanna. Now that was a name. Not average, not strange, just right for a young assassin. Was that her? Was that who she was destined to be? Yes. Vanna.

He thought and thought for maybe an hour, sifting through names upon names that didn't fit at all. He tried Jonathan, good but no cigar. He rolled Baxter around in his head, but couldn't see it. Sister however, was grinning at her feet. She had a name already, and he wanted to hear it. He wanted to hear who she was now, maybe pick a name that accompanied hers. That was a good idea, he'd be connected to her forever through the name he would choose for himself. But what if something happened to her? What if she- No. He couldn't choose a name that accompanied hers. Life was too cruel to let that happen without repercussions. Still, he wanted to know what she'd chosen. So he was going to ask.

"What did you pick?" She looked up at him, eyes shining bright, smile spread wide across her face.

"My name is Vanna." Vanna. He could see it perfectly. Her name fit perfectly, and so he found himself smiling with her.

"That's great. Vanna." He tried it on his tongue. It felt good, uplifting even. She'd found herself. Now it was his turn. It wasn't easy picking an Identity contrary to how easy his targets made it look. They had something to work with, a birth certificate to change, he had to start from absolute scratch. More names ran across his thoughts, all dismissed. For the longest time (he presumed it had been a long time, but it was probably only half an hour) his sister- Vanna- watched as he struggled with his decision. Finally, the perfect one. Perfect. Ace. Just Ace. He was Ace now.

"Got something?" Vanna- Sister- said hopefully from the other side.

"Yeah. I'm Ace now. Just Ace." She was giggling, not with amusement but with joy. Something he'd never seen before out of her. It was such a welcome contrast to her normal steely self. He knew how they both thought about Hydra most of the time, the things they did, how they enjoyed what they did in some twisted way. It was relieving to see her smile for this small moment. It wasn't going the last however, the doors to both their cells were opening. Respectively, Ace and Vanna turned their heads to look, the usual sight greeted them, except none of them were carrying lunch.

"Special occasion?" Ace asked the nearest one.

"Sergeant Barnes brought your afternoon meal for the day." The Soldier brought lunch? After a month of nothing he showed up to get them lunch? Irked as he was, Ace allowed his entourage to urge him into wrist restraints. While his group was busy fastening the electronic cuffs, he looked across to Vanna. She was already being ushered out into the hall. This was how it worked most of the time. She was more compliant but not for the reasons anyone on the outside could comprehend. They'd decided upon first arriving to choose battles carefully. Fighting when transported was one such battle that they didn't exactly fight directly.

Cheese pizza seemed alright. Steve told him that it's what teenagers ate these days. Obviously they were not modern teenagers, or even modern anything for that matter, but it never hurt to try. Besides, he liked the Italian pie himself. The assassin was staring at the two boxes of pizza fixedly. He'd forgotten something important back at the apartment, had it set out on his bed and everything. What it was he couldn't recall, but he was trying his damnedest to remember. He looked down at his shirt almost unconsciously. That was it, the clothing he'd bought for them. Bucky grimaced with blooming agitation. Forgetting things like this was normal, but both the gesture of getting lunch and new clothes was going to accompany the announcement of their supervised rehabilitation. He and Steve were going to be the supervisors. This whole thing was going to be a roller coaster ride, as it had been for the two super-soldiers, but now it was two against two, and half of them were teenage assassins. Bucky had thought all of this out before jumping into after the better part of the month spent in- well, he didn't want to think about that right now- but he'd planned everything out. Steve took care of the paperwork and more Avengers-related obstacles this week, while Bucky arranged the little meeting with Wilson Brown and his proteges and got the apartment more or less readied. All of the windows were bulletproof, his weapons were stashed in the empty apartment downstairs, the fridge was stocked and the empty space in the spare bedroom was now taken by two twin beds and a modest set of furniture donated by the highly skeptical Tony Stark. Stark had also provided each of them with an entirely new wardrobe. The only problem now was how well this meeting went.

"Sergeant Barnes?" A female voice asked through some hidden speaker. He looked up at the ceiling to signal his response, still after all this time not sure how to react to a voice that came from everywhere.

"Assets Alpha and Omega are approaching the door." Bucky rolled his eyes. Did they really need to announce everything around here? Couldn't someone just spring through the door and make life interesting? Bucky scoffed at himself. As if life wasn't interesting enough already. Right on cue, the door slid to the side with a pressurized hiss, three guards were revealed in the doorway, then two more, and then the siblings in question, followed by another five agents. Bucky forced himself into stony silence as the guards corralled the two into their seats. The assassin couldn't help but notice the way both of them never looked away, never broke eye contact. Such things were customary back at Hydra. Make eye contact unless told otherwise.

"Sergeant Barnes. Wonderful to see you again." Wilson entered shortly after the last two guards, wearing the same suit as he always did.

"Alpha, Omega." The girl's face scrunched up in something resembling disgust.

"We have names now, Wilson. Or have you not been paying attention to your security?" She spat. Bucky smirked and raised an accusatory eyebrow at Brown.

"I'm afraid that's not my department miss...?" Brown made a gesture towards the both of them as he sat.

"Vanna."

"And Ace."

"They're fitting names." Wilson agreed with a nod. Bucky smiled with no shame. He was undeniably proud of these two- of Ace and Vanna. The siblings were paving a road for their own life.

"We think so." Ace snarked, glancing at the pizza box, and then to Bucky.

"This you?" he asked.

"Thought you might like pizza. The food here sucks." Vanna was too busy glaring daggers at Wilson to notice... And there was something in her eyes that the assassin didn't like.

"Vanna?" He tried her new name (and liked it), dropping his tone to something low, more authoritarian. She didn't move. Her brother reached for her arm and pulled the sleeve of her shirt more lightly than any motion he'd ever seen used by the kid.

"Vanna, lunch, remember?" Ace whispered. She seemed to drag her narrowing eyes away from Wilson's widening ones, almost unable to do so.

"Yeah, lunch. What is it?" The girl asked, her voice low and quiet. Bucky reached for the lid of the box. As he flipped it open he could practically see the desire in both their eyes as they looked at the steaming pie.

"Do you like cheese?" Bucky asked them, smiling ever so slightly as their faces lit up at the prospect of eating something other than low-grade cafeteria food.

"You bet your shiny left arm, Barnes." Surprisingly, it was Vanna who made the comment, Vanna who reached for the first slice. Vanna who'd called him something other than the Soldier. And yet Ace wasn't far behind.

"Might as well bet the right one too." The kid said, taking a bite out of the greasy slice and then humming in satisfaction.

"I think we should attend the matter at hand." Wilson interrupted. Bucky sighed, bracing himself for the long conversation ahead by scooping up a piece of the cheesy pie with his left hand.

"What would that be?" Vanna asked through a mouthful of food.

"Your-"

"If you say supervised rehabilitation I swear I'm breaking your leg." Ace growled. Bucky took an uncaring bite of pizza, trying his best not to spring on the agent that flipped the safety off on his gun.

"But it is the matter we're here to discuss. Sergeant Barnes, if you would please explain." Bucky took a few more bites out of his pizza. He wanted his answer to be a straight-to-the-point as possible. There would be more questions that way, but questions that could be answered with one or two word sentences.

"You're coming to live with Steve and I in D.C." Ace stopped mid-grab as he was going for another slice. Vanna finished chewing and ever to calmly replied with a question.

"Steve is the blonde one, right?" Bucky nodded, and then watched as Ace withdrew his hand.

"I liked him." She took another bite.

"He's in the grey area." Ace was growing uncomfortable, his voice shook slightly, and that was the last thing Bucky wanted right now. Ace's discomfort could snowball-effect into something undesirable.

"Well, you'll find that all of the legal things have been taken care of. You will be transported out of New York as soon as it is convenient for Sergeant Barnes." Bucky really wanted Wilson to get lost.

"Can we have a minute?" The assassin asked. Well, asked was beating around the bush. Bucky couldn't be more blunt unless he outright ordered everyone out.

"Um, of course Sergeant-"

"Now." Bucky punctuated his annoyance with a single word. The agents filed out in orderly fashion, Wilson being the first to leave. Once Bucky was sure they were alone (physically at least, the cameras were most surely on) he inhaled deeply and just took them in for a minute. They were strong, on the road to independent, he was proud for that. Very proud. But they were also just like his own former self, an assassin with no ties to the world except for one link. That link was him, James Buchanan Barnes. And he'd let them know.

"So, what are our living conditions gonna be like?" Ace sighed.

"Better than this." Bucky replied, leaning forward with his elbows on the table.

"And you get to meet Captain America."

They were on the home stretch now. Barnes was driving, Ace was in the front seat, she was in the back behind the driver so she could keep an eye on her brother. The past eight or so hours had gone by so fast. The siblings had been whisked off to a lab (after much protest from both of them and from Barnes) and fitted with irremovable microchips. Then they were off in an armored car, lectured the whole way there on the dos and don'ts of this little arrangement. The don'ts included leaving the apartment without Barnes or Captain Rogers, destruction of property, and paramount... No killing. The dos were a little more like... Well, she didn't know. She'd never been talked to with the softness Barnes had when he explained it to both of them on the plane ride. Ask for things when you need them, it's okay to ask questions, you're not going to be punished for speaking your mind, or punished period. Barnes stressed the importance of getting food when they're hungry, explaining that they had the freedom to not only feed themselves but get what they wanted. It was all so foreign and intimidating. The last leg of the journey was made at night and by rental car. No one had said a word the entire two hours. This was mostly due to how utterly fascinated the siblings were with what was outside the windows. Illuminated sings, other people going about their lives, animals, trees, the moon and stars...

"We're almost there." Barnes said, the car lurching left as they turned into a small area of clustered apartments.

"What's gonna stop us from running off?" Ace asked. Vanna rolled her eyes and waited for the driver to answer.

"Hopefully that chip in your neck." She chuckled as her brother rubbed the base of his neck where it'd been injected. The car pulled to a soft stop on the side of the street in front of one of the nicer buildings lining the road. Barnes opened his door without moment's hesitation and stretched once he was outside. The simplicity of it all, like a family coming home from a road trip. Family, what a weird word. She supposed she and Ace were family, but Barnes? That was a question she wanted to answer, but decided against it in this moment. She was weary and she wanted to sleep.

"Coming Vanna?" The voice made her jump, for it was Barnes' voice coming from outside the open car door. He was standing off to the side, giving her space to step out onto the sidewalk. Ace was at her side in the split second she had shut the door. She looked up at him then shifted closer so that their shoulders were touching. The closeness of her brother was something she needed right now. At least when she was nearly delirious from lack of sleep. Barnes started walking without another word towards an exposed metal staircase. The trip up was no more than a blur, then they were walking through the door. She had to admit, this place was nice. Simple, but nice. But no Captain in sight.

"Steve?" The soldier called out, none too loud. The sound of a door opening and footsteps made her shift closer to Ace. The blonde Captain wasn't smiling when he came into view, but he radiated relief and happiness.

"Sorry about not calling." Barnes said, seeming to dodge the fact that there were two assassins standing only inches away.

"Don't worry Buck. Let's just get them settled in." She could feel Ace's hand on the small of her back, reassuring her.

"Your room's this way. Bathroom is over there. Your bathroom is there by your room. Kitchen, living room, my room is down the hall next to Bucky's." Rogers pointed everything out from the entry way. Everything could be seen from the entry way. It was a nicely spread-out apartment, a TV in the living room (Muted), kitchen lights on and... Ugh. She'd have to do her deductions in the morning.

"You two should get ready for bed. There's a shower in both bathrooms and pajamas on your beds." Honestly too worn out to do anything otherwise, she allowed herself to be guided about by Rogers. He led her to the bathroom closest to their room, given her a simple T-shirt branded as "Pink Floyd" with some triangle and rainbow design on the front accompanied by a pair of dark sweatpants. She took her shower and did other things one would do in a bathroom. She almost brushed her hair out in front of the mirror. Almost. In her state, she'd actually accidentally carried the hairbrush into the space between the room and living room. Barnes caught her not far from the door and without invading her closely guarded personal space, took the brush and pointed her towards her room.

"What a day, right?" Ace asked from his side of the room once she'd fell into her bed. Vanna didn't answer. She was too busy falling asleep.

Hello homies! Longer as promised and sorta kinda late-ish. Anyway, Ace and Vanna are just names I thought up while writing, and in my opinion suit them well. I threw in an easter egg of sorts by using the suggested names that I got in the reviews. Next time on the MarvelGirlFromOKC channel, we'll get a nice little conversation about how the siblings are actually thirty years old. Peace out, please review!