-really long sigh and tears over Civil War trailer- Hello to anyone who reads this! It's been what, a month, and it's not very good. Filler and mild fluff(kinda-not-really-mildly-sorry) and Ace having a mental breakdown because of a toddler.

Small broken promise. No "we're really thirty" convo 'cause it didn't fit.

"How about I put your lazy ass in a grocery bag and drop it down the chute... How'd ya like that?" Ace mumbled to himself, pulling the hatch to the garbage chute down and tossing one of five overflowing bags inside. The teen hated taking out the trash, which was odd, seeming how this was the first time. Barnes insisted on the two taking on responsibility after the two week mark of rehab, and it was alright at first. Doing dishes was easy, fun even as long as nothing had to be scrubbed out of the grooves in his hands. Dusting Rogers' records was fine too. Cleaning counters, rooms and bathrooms was even better, especially if Ace got to do it his way. But taking out the trash was too much work for too little pay-off. He had to cover up completely, hide himself from prying eyes as he went up three flights of stairs to the chute. He supposed it was a lesser of two evils. It was up three flights, or down five and up again. Or he could've gone to the grocery store with his sister and Steve. Whatever. He tossed the last of the bags down and was nearly ready to go back to the stairway.

"Mary!" Ace spun swiftly to asses the threat- no, the woman. Damn, it's been a moth and a half of no Hydra pull yourself together Ace... Let's see. Young, using crutches and toting a heavy bag. Child bouncing around, female, four years at most. Clothes are clean but old. The child's clothes are of better quality. Gift from Grandma, and no mom takes away a gift. She's struggling with money, refusing to accept it from her mother most likely. Complete mess of a bandaged sprained right ankle, discount clinic, and- The young woman was falling, all contents of her grocery bag threatening to spill all over the hall. Ace reacted quickly, almost without thinking. He snatched the woman's hand, hooked one crutch under his boot before it could hit the floor and kicked it back into her grasp, all in the meantime of grasping the handles of her bag, a split second later the bag was back in its rightful owner's hand.

"Oh my- Thank you!" She said, parting her red-painted lips into a smile.

"Don't mention it." He tried to smile back, but smiling at strangers wasn't a habit he found himself in. He must of looked like he was passing gas by the way the child giggled and pointed. He felt hot under his collar just then, when a little girl was laughing at his smile.

"Mary honey, get mommy's other crutch please." The mother pointed at the unsaved contraption, and Mary ceased her fit of laughter to retrieve it dutifully.

"I've got it." The teen tried to interject.

"No me!" The child screeched, pulling the crutch out of Ace's reach.

"Mary!" The mother scolded.

"What?" She snapped. Ace chuckled and stuck his hands in his pockets, the heat of embarrassment fading away. It was good to know he wasn't the only sarcastic kid in the world that questioned everything den-mother said.

"I'm so sorry about her- She gets antsy on shopping day." She apologized, adjusting the crutch under her arm.

"No problem."

"You look familiar..." She mused.

"Are you related to the man that lives downstairs?"

"Uh, he's my legal guardian. But uh, we have similar taste I guess."

"No, Mister Bucky is his daddy."

"Mary..." She sighed.

"I am so sorry." Why did she feel the need to apologize so much? Killing people didn't take this much apologizing, and it was odd how this little girl called him by that stupid nickname. Seemed like everyone called him Bucky except for he and his sister. Contradicting a child was a lost cause, so Ace went with it.

"No no, I think she's right. We have the same hair and everything." Well, his hair was lighter than Barnes'. Details.

"Tol' you mommy!" Mary squealed triumphantly. Ace shrugged.

"She tol' you mommy." Ace shrugged as he tossed in the lighthearted comment. He hoped the jab went well, as most did in his experience with teasing Vanna. She laughed, but her happiness ended with a sharp wince that led to her dropping the bag.

"Can I help you to your apartment? If you want." Ace offered politely, the way Steve told him to treat a lady. (That was a long story and a long lecture about how tripping your sister wasn't a very chivalrous thing to do)

"Would you? I just need help with my groceries." Ace grasped the handles of the bag in response, hoping it was enough to convince her that he wanted to help out.

"Carry me!" The girl exclaimed, reaching up with her tiny hands and grasping the air. Apparently his convincing went two ways.

"Leave the nice boy alone, sweetie." Again, why? He was completely capable of carrying a child that weighed no ore than twenty pounds. Nothing spectacular or important.

"It's okay." He stooped and grasped her by the waist, then pulled her up to rest on his side. She clutched his jacket tightly, which was familiar as Vanna did it now and again. She was staring up at him with giant brown eyes, contemplating, obviously. Ace tried to ignore her, focus on her mother's steps and make sure the woman didn't hurt herself, but then the child reached up to tangle her fingers in his hair. Not painful at all, but slightly annoying and he would've swatted the hand away if his hands weren't otherwise occupied. The thought of actually using his hands against this innocent made Ace shiver as soon as it crossed his mind. Such a little thing, and it wouldn't be scarring or anything right? Well, this coming from a guy who thought killing was such a little thing...

"Why do you look sad?" She squeaked.

"Huh?"

"You're all sad."

"I was thinking. I do that a lot."

"What about?" She was still carding through his hair.

"My hands. And feet." He answered truthfully.

"Why?" God, she was pulling now, and twisting. He suppressed a grunt as she started wrapping a pink rubber-band around- whatever she had done.

"Because my hands and feet are kinda bad."

"Then tell them not to be bad anymore. Like Bucky did with his shiny hand." Bucky- No, just Barnes, knew this little girl?

"You know about-"

"Mhm." Unbelievable. Incredible really. Everyone knew more about Barnes than he did. And- wait. The change in her tone sent up a tiny red flag. Insinuating that she also knew about- And Ace was now terrified of this tiny child that knew. Knew too much. Just by knowing he had 'shiny metal hands and feet' she was in danger. Caused by him. Not again... He only broke his intense stare on the carpet when the woman pulled over to set her bag down next to an apartment door. She turned to face him, and he wanted to vomit. The sweet and thankful smile that he didn't deserve made him want to puke.

"Thank you so much for- Pf- I'm sorry." She was holding back laughter. Actual laughter. Mary giggled too. He looked down on her, trying so desperately and failing to keep his face straight and completely not horror-stricken. He shouldn't be holding this kid with the same hands that had killed so many, and left countless others with shattered lives. He shouldn't be looking at this kid. Keep it cool, try to go along. Just until you can get back to Barnes.

"What?" He asked, his voice shaky but still under control for the most part.

"I gave him braids mommy!"

"I can see that... Honey are you okay?" No, not okay, definitely not okay. His resolve was shattering.

"I have to get back downstairs, uh, s-sorry for being anywhere near you or your daughter." Ace set the bag and the child down with as much raw tenderness as possible for a murderer.

"Sweetheart, you look like you've seen a ghost!" Ace started to backpedal the hell out of there while he could suppress the heat growing in his muscles. He wanted to hit something, now, and hopefully it wasn't one of these god-awfully good people right now or he'd hate himself forever. He already did hate himself forever, insult to injury. He no longer wanted to look at the tears welling up in Mary's eyes. It hurt too much. Suddenly everything hurt from his head to whatever was left of his legs. So he turned and ran. It was default. Things start going bad you turn tail and report to your superiors for evaluation. No buts about it, get to the soldier for orders. Sometimes relying on default settings can save your life, or the lives around you. Alph- Ace didn't know what else to do. Revert to the default he'd been fighting or hurt someone.

"Uchitel'!" He called out upon reaching the door. Using the name was foreign on his tongue now after so many years. Didn't matter at all though. He needed to be evaluated- reset- something- or he was going to start a fight with the next thing that moved and that thing was going to lose with it's skull crushed in- Don't think like a killer, Ace. He's coming. Barnes was indeed coming, his features stony and emotionless like any other day. He was saying something- Trying to follow along wasn't doing it for Ace, just too scrambled. Shut down. Default. Needed to be reset like a computer...

"Woah kid." Bucky warned, clasping his right hand on Ace's shoulder.

"альфа актив отчетности для рекалибровки."

"That's not who you are anymore Ace." The boy leaned away from Bucky's touch violently, as if it was burning him.

"Нет, я ... Пожалуйста? Я не хочу никого обижать!"

"Ace, listen to me, I'm not treating you like a machine." Ace shut his eyes tightly and continued the assault on his hair, keeled over as if he was going to vomit. The kid could very well spill his lunch all over the entry way. Bucky himself had done that many an episode, and definitely didn't want Steve to come home to puke on the carpet.

"Barnes just say it- it hurts!" He shouted, a heavy Russian accent lacing his words. And it. The code word, and it was not going to be used.

"I know it hurts, but I'm not saying it." He reached out to the kid again, but he recoiled, hitting the wall behind him and causing him to start. The jolt proved too much for his mind and stomach. Not only did the kid scream, afterward he did indeed wretch.

Vanna dumped the steaming contents of the soup can into a ceramic bowl, added a spoon, and grinned in satisfaction.

"Not too bad for a first meal." She complimented herself, carrying the steaming dish in to her brother. He was a pitiful sight. Pale and shaking, propped up on the pillows from both his bed and hers. The bedside lamp was the only illumination in the room, the shade making the light a pale yellow tinge that didn't compliment her brother's sickly paleness. As much as it hurt to see, she had no idea what he was feeling. Barnes had told earlier that Ace spent the day retching until he had nothing left in his stomach. He'd also complained- well, hinted heavily- that he had a killer headache. No fever though at least just exhausted and a little confused.

"Turns out I can deal with microwaves without making anything explode." She said upon reaching the bedside, holding the soup a bit higher.

"Yippee..." Ace commented hoarsely, reaching for the bowl.

"It's hot." She cautioned before passing it over.

"Metal hands."

"Not your hands... Gee you really are out of it." She watched as he took a few ginger sips of the steaming liquid, smiling when he smiled and hummed his satisfaction.

"Feels good. Tastes good."

"Glad you like it. I'm going to watch a movie or something. Call me when you're done." He nodded. Vanna walked into the kitchen, flipping out the lights before slipping into the living room where Barnes and Steve were already on the couch. The glow of the TV made the atmosphere light and comfortable, which she was grateful for in all of her troubles.

"How is he?" Steve asked, making room at his right side by urging his assassin-buddy further left. She took the empty space but still distanced herself from the large captain and leaning as far into the armrest as she could.

"He likes the soup. What was it called?" Steve only opened his mouth slightly as if to speak before Barnes hopped in.

"Chicken noodle." She smirked. It was funny hearing Barnes say 'noodle'. The simple things that could make her smile now were amazing. She liked how the snow fell outside. She liked the shiny red sports cars that buzzed around the street. She liked it when her former mentor said unusual words. She liked things now, and it was okay to like things. To smile. All of this and she still wouldn't sit close to the people who made it all possible. She was curled up almost painfully into the corner of the couch when there was plenty of space to uncurl her legs just a little bit at least. So she did, and was pleasantly surprised when absolutely nothing happened. Now that she had gotten comfortable, Vanna leisurely fixated on the TV.

"No, I am your father." Was the first line she caught, followed by quite an ugly scream from a young man with a missing hand. Both of the men reacted to the line quite incredulously, Barnes' eyes widening impossibly and Steve leaning so far forward he might fall off the couch. She could only look at them with a brow raised and her lip quirked. Honestly, she ignored the rest of the movie and concentrated on her hands for no reason, waiting for her brother to finish his dinner. She watched the panels shift and slide as he rotated her wrist. If it didn't have the history that it did, she would've admired the tech, wanted to take it apart even. Alas, this thing had killed, and she needed it to operate properly for the sake of grabbing things so, no taking it apart. After awhile of really just being content, Vanna's thoughts drifted back to her brother, and she realized he hadn't called for her.

"I'm gonna go check on Ace." She said, not wanting nor waiting for a reply to stand up and walk over to the doorway. She peeked in stealthily first, making sure the coast was clear before entering. The young assassin could see him still lying back, but with his eyes closed and the now empty soup bowl on the nightstand. She rolled her eyes and entered fully, crossing the room and scooping up the bowl. Before leaving, Vanna turned the lamp off so that the room was dark. She rinsed the bowl out in the kitchen and set it in the dish washer.

"What now..." She muttered, looking at the microwave clock. It read 11:15, late enough to go to bed. She shrugged, not tired but bored at the same time. She was never tired, just mildly drowsy.

"Night guys." She called.

"Goodnight Vanna." Said Steve.

"Feeling better?" His sister said from behind, interrupting his intense stare on the kitchen tables' surface. She came into his line of sight while moving to lean forward on the table. He was mildly interested on the reason she was dressed to go out.

"Infinitely." So. Much. Better. Ace was coming to find a bowl of soupy pasta and a good night's rest could do wonders for an upset stomach.

"Good. Tin-man is offering a walk in the park down the road."

"Think I'd better pass on civilian interaction Van." He answered with a shake of his head, not quite in the mood for another episode.

"Suit yourself, but just so you know, Steve is in a particularly nostalgic mood. Get ready for Kitty Kallen." Vanna patted him lightly as she made for the door. He didn't care less. He actually liked the old songs Steve played when he was reminiscent. It was energetic, lively, full of the culture Ace never got to witness in his life. His empty, useless life that was good for nothing but death and pain and corruption and...

"You gonna stare at the table all day?"

"Oh, uh, what?" Ace didn't hear the door open or close, hear his sister leave. Hell, he didn't even hear Steve turn on his music (Same song, Kitty Kallen of course). He hadn't been that distracted had he?

"Are you gonna stare at the table all day?" The captain reiterated.

"I'd rather do this than be in public right now." He replied with a tight smile.

"Yesterday was pretty rough."

"Just for me... I feel like there's uh.. A civil war goin' on in my head. Defaults and what I should be thinking fighting for thinking space. Doesn't help when a kid in tugging on your hair."

"I have some experience with that."

"It's PTSD right? When you freak out like I did?"

"Ace, you reacted like anyone would."

"In case you haven't noticed Captain, I'm not just anyone. Not that I'm special or anything, just a little bit more mentally scarred than the next guy."

"Well, like a friend of mine said you can carry it around in a big suitcase or a little man-purse."

"What the hell does that mean? And whats a man-purse?"

They stood facing each other, her stance tight and poised to strike. The counterpart stood still as he was ordered. Waiting for the command.

"Go." Says their current handler out of the group assembled. Her muscles convulse, her hands finding purchase on the counterpart's throat. He's flat on the ground now, still, his eyes staring into hers. The exercise goes well swiftly, for she knocks the counterpart unconscious. She is met with little praise but a curt nod from the handler. A disapproving head-shake from the masked soldier standing off to the side, leaning on a training dummy.

"They both follow orders well enough. How is the progress on project K-9 ultra?"

"The K-9 project has hit a slight speed bump, Doctor." She'd been dismissed in a subtle way, but dismissed all the same as the handler and others exited the gym talking about things like the K-9 program, which she did not have clearance to listen to. The gym door was closed tight, leaving three alone. Two lucid, one lying on the cold concrete floor.

"He'll have a concussion." She stated flatly to the man who was now taking his mask off. He didn't respond, typical of the soldier despite the apparatus keeping him silent being removed.

"The counterpart will also have limited functionality for approximately twenty-four hours." Asset Omega scowled deeply as the soldier completely ignored her comment, and went about wrapping his weak hand in multiple layers of gauze.

"If the counterpart is neglected now, the period of dysfunction will prolong." She punctuated the last words by gesturing to the male with both hands. Still the soldier payed no mind to her concerns. Somehow she thought he was doing it on purpose.

"Sir, I request he be moved to the infirmary. Now." The accentuated, leaving Alpha's side to approach the wall of ice that was the Winter Soldier.

"I would do it myself Sir, but the scientists have advised against lifting anything due to my new upgrades." She followed at his heels as he approached a dummy near the far wall of the gym. Still saying nothing, nor alluding to the fact he had even heard her. Heat bubbled in her stomach, rising into her cheeks. She could feel her face growing hotter and before she could stop it...

"Listen to me dammit!" Before moving to land a desirably large blow to his side from her stance behind him. As always however, the soldier suspected as much and caught her fist with his weak hand. With his other, he continued the desired punch exactly where she'd intended. With infinitely more strength. Out of breath with her vision blackening from the shock of pain the erupted in her abdomen, she whined with every attempted exhale. Omega tried to keep her eyes open, struggled even, just long enough to see the handler enter the scene, coming to stand next to the disapproving soldier. He also looked down at her with disdain.

"Better to stop it early. I don't care how you do it, get them both to the mental ward before six." The soldier nodded.

"Project K-9..." Vanna said thoughtfully, seemingly out of the blue. Yes, the memory of Barnes hitting her was usually the prime focus of what she remembered about that day, but when the scientists said it in passing... None of it was her problem anymore. None of it whatsoever had anything to do with her current state. Forgetting about it wasn't an option. She hated forgetting, however, it was good not to think on those bleak times let alone try to sort them out. She'd leave the sorting out to anyone other than herself or her brother. Buzz, buzz, buzz! The incremental vibrations that stirred Vanna's concentration obviously came from Barnes' phone. It continued to buzz until the older assassin had brought it up to his cheek.

"Hello?" He started, extending his left arm out in front of the girl's chest, a signal to wait. She watched him carefully, his light expressions giving notice that something was wrong.

"Are you sure?" Barnes' already baritone and gruff voice deepened even more.

"Tell them we're on assignment." Another pause as he listened to the voice on the other end.

"Who's gonna- Yeah, I know, but-" He pursed his lips and sighed, glancing down at his feet.

"Yeah. That'll work." Almost hurriedly, he hung up and slipped the phone into his back pocket.

"What is it?"

"We're going back to New York..."

Three hours later.

I'll never smile again...

She swore her teeth were going to be ground down to the gums if this music didn't stop soon.

"Stop grinding your teeth." Ace hissed, nudging her arm with his.

"I can't help it!" She answered quietly.

"Put up with it, he's in a bad mood already."

"All of us are in a bad mood in case you couldn't tell." I prove her point, Vanna crossed her arms and slumped against the car door, making more noise than absolutely necessary.

"That bad?"

"You bet." Packed and ready for the private airport, the siblings were getting increasingly angry at the world- the girl more so than her brother. Not only this, but an endless torrent of unstoppable memories. She'd let the floodgate open at the park, just to remember that day. Four different events had taken place in the confines of her mind, all about as unpleasant as it got. She dared not review them now, when she was in a car with non-bulletproof glass for windows. More for herself though, more for not letting another memory through.

"What are you thinking about?"

"Everything but my past."

"Our past."

"Whatever."

"Touch me again, and I swear I'm going to shoot you!" She threatened, the barrel of the gun pointed at the center of Alpha's forehead, almost touching. He was smiling stupidly, letting those emotions flow just as Omega was.

"I won't."

"I will." She warned.

"No. You won't." He was right of course. As agitated as Omega was, she lowered the firearm. They had bigger things to worry about, like the rampage through the compound. The soldier was with no doubt on their tail, or at their head ready to intercept.

"Okay, Rumlow and his gang are coming down the hall. We go down the east wing." Alpha continued.

"The soldier-"

"So what?"

"It's the soldier!"

"Whatever."

She came back to the present with a light gasp.

"Breathe Van..." Ace muttered, his eyes half open. She looked his way, noticing all too fast that the place where her seat belt was firmly in place, the patch of skin there was red and indented. No way she'd been asleep that long. Or even asleep for that matter! She quickly turned her attention to the window. A kiosk-looking thing was on the left side of the road, blocking the car's path with a flimsy yellow and black striped bar. Beyond that, the giant airport building.

"Ace."

"Hm?"

"We're here. Unknown personnel inbound."

"And I'm the one that needs to lay off the Hydra thing? Geez, it's just a security guard."

"Since when are you so mellow about strangers? I thought you actively avoided-"

"Steve and I talked." Of course you did. Vanna didn't speak her mind, Steve had already pulled up the the security hut and was talking with the yellow-clad man inside. Barnes ignored the man for the most part, clearing his throat whenever the conversation got off-topic.

"Thank you for your service, Captain."

"Appreciate it." The car sped up again, maybe a half of a mile later and it was parked right beside four other identical vehicles. From her window she could see four suited men emerge from each car, sunglasses and all just like the ones on those damn movies Barnes let her watch. Finally (sensibly) Ace regained some of his wariness of unknown personnel, his eyes widening to near gigantic proportions.

"Getting the urge to run?" She asked him, moving closer to the middle of the back seat rather than exit the now open car door.

"Don't you dare." Barnes cautioned, getting out of the car in unison with Steve.

"Come on, Van." Her brother made a motion to go out the opposite door.

"No." She said simply, following him. The suit-drones didn't care, and simply let her follow her brother across the parking lot, into the building and towards security.

"Tsk, hate to break it to you but metal detectors are really not the best option for-"

"Arms up." One of the male guards (the same ones from the facility) interjected flatly. Ace scowled and took a step back, eyeing the man suspiciously.

"I don't like being touched."

"It's a simple security measure. I assure you that-"

"Assure all you want. You're not giving me a pat down." Ace crossed his arms, a smirk still playing on his lips.

"Sir, you are making this more difficult than it needs to be." The assassin scoffed.

"Yeah, I'm just gonna go right ahead-" He started to walk by, but the agent was persistent, taking hold of his wrist more forcibly than Ace was about to allow. Call it brash, reckless, overkill, whatever, but Ace sucker punched the loser right in his face mask. Three other agents were on him in a second. He kicked and cursed, nothing phasing the four guards subduing him. Once he had calmed (after a fair bit of violent protest) the fifth and final agent approached Ace from the front. This one had her helmet off, had no body armor as a matter of fact.

"Sir." She addressed calmly, as if there weren't an army of cronies that had his arms behind his back.

"Lady." He growled.

"Will you please submit to a pat-down? It's... Either that, or a method that would lessen the danger for my agents and yourself."

"Sedative, huh?"

"If you continue to be difficult. Yes."

"Low lady. Real low..." Ace deliberated his options. Pride, or consciousness. Pretty easy, except Vanna was on edge and a little comfort was far more valuable than his pride- not that he had any. Too many bodies to have much pride.

"...but fine. Pat-down it is."

"Thank you for your cooperation."

"Shut up..." He said, finally free to move his limbs only to spread them wide and allow the first guard With the comically cracked visor) to give him an uncomfortable pat-down. Ace swore he was being extra thorough on purpose. And the new lady watched the entire time. She was cold and calculating, he could tell. She could also get what she wanted. He liked her.

"So, what do I call you?" He asked as he was led out of the room.

"Agent."

"I need a last name." He reasoned.

"Hill. Call me Agent Hill." Now they were finally in the main airport, Steve, Barnes and his sister were waiting patiently by a terminal door.

"Plane ride, brother?"

"As if we had any other option." With that, the gang were down the ramp. The plane was nearly lavish compared to the cargo plane they'd ridden in on the way to D.C. Ace pointed vaguely to the back of the plane, the safest seats. Farthest away from where the six agent drones were sitting. The seats were a creamy leather, soft, almost plush.

"This is too billionaire for my taste." Vanna said as she took the window seat.

"Could be worse." He replied, settling in as well.

"Yeah, you could have taken the window seat. And Steve could have made the pilot put on that god-awful music."

"Downer." Both chuckled. Ace was happy he could at least still make that happen. Nothing else really mattered at all as long as she was happy, which wasn't smart in a tactical point of view. Tactics were shit now. His life was in the hands of billionaires, super-soldiers, super-assassins, and government-something agencies. Leave the tactics to them and let his damn little sister sleep on his shoulder (the wall is obviously not a good enough pillow compared to a metal shoulder), because they've been through some crap, okay?! Ace's personal mental rage was really getting out of hand. Nothing cured anything better than a nap. He leaned back, the headrest too comfortable, accepting the house-arrest fate that awaited two and a half hours away, and closed his eyes.

"GAH!" I scream as my own OCs attack me for bad character moments. "I'm sorry I'm sorry, Civil War's got my brain messed up like the dickens!"

Next chapter (NO PROMISES) will include some meeting and messing with the new Avengers.

Fanart plz? Just a lil' drawin' of Ace and Vanna?