Chapter 9: Clint's Farmhouse - Steve and Tony's Room

A clock somewhere in the house chimed one in the morning. Steve sighed and rolled over in bed once again- maybe this time he'd find a comfortable position to sleep. Tony's deep, even breathing from the other side of the room mocked him. Something was bothering him and it kept him awake- even though he had no idea what it might be. Steve just felt... angry. He'd felt that a hell of a lot lately, and now just being angry was enough to make him angry. Why couldn't he be happy for one damned night?

There was a soft ripping sound and Steve realized he was gripping the edge of his pillow too-tight. He let go, and several feathers fluttered to the floor. Great. Nothing was going his way tonight, apparently. Without consciously deciding to, Steve got up and went downstairs. He found himself headed for the kitchen, and decided to just let his legs take him wherever the hell they wanted. Maybe then he'd be able to get some sleep.

In the kitchen now, Steve turned and headed outside in his pajama pants and a t-shirt. He didn't bother grabbing his shoes by the back door- no pebble or stick was strong enough to cut his feet anyways.

The nearly full moon cast enough light over the farm for Steve to find his way to the border fence, and from there he was guided by the glow of Tony's remote suits, guarding the perimeter. Clint's farm was nice- but Steve was a city boy, born and raised. The quiet reminded him of nights out on a patrol or trekking through the forests of Europe with his Howling Commandos. It both comforted him and fueled his nonsensical temper. How much had he lost since those nights? For him, it was only four years. Four incredibly brief, violent years. Over the course of that time his team had all died (thankfully most of them of old age) and his best friend had spent seventy years as an assassin for their enemy. He couldn't even trust him anymore.

That was what was keeping him awake and angry, even if he was slow admitting it. What was Bucky thinking going after Inessa's uncle like that? Three weeks. There wasn't a doubt in Steve's mind the Winter Soldier found his target. Aristov's death wouldn't have been quick. The more Steve thought about it, about the lies that were painted across Bucky's face lately, the more he was convinced he was being taken for a fool. That fink thinks everything is forgiven, just because he promised not to kill without permission? What's that worth? He also swore he didn't even see Dimitri, let alone kill him. Shows what his word is worth.

Steve became angrier and angrier as he walked the borders of the farm- and not just at Bucky. Every Avenger had their flaws, which usually didn't bother him (unless it was Stark), but his black mood made him pick them apart in his mind. Natasha was closed off even when she should be trusting her allies, Clint (Gracious host though he was) spent more time babying Inessa than actually helping her, Inessa was being too damn sensitive to everything- she controlled shadows for god's sake! Surely she could muster up enough courage to even look at people, especially after months surrounded by the Avengers. Sam, normally one of his best friends among the Avengers- make that best, since Bucky was being a fucking moron- was being too damned serious with all his training and sucking up to Tony, Banner's zen routine was getting old, and Thor was hamming it up, pretending everything was so damned fascinating. Ooh, what is this gold my eyes doth behold, be it the currency of your realm? Steve thought sarcastically as he passed a stock of corn.

There was a sudden, sharp pain in his bare foot- something icy and hot at the same time. Steve cursed and tipped against one of the wooden fence beams for support. A suit half a mile off came to inspect the source of the disturbance. "May I be of assistance, Mister Rogers?" JARVIS, fucking smug robot.

"Give me some light," Steve demanded. He tried putting weight on his foot and hissed again in pain. His toes were throbbing. The suit produced a floodlight and shone it down on his raised foot. A rusty nail stuck up through the top at least three inches. Steve groaned, frustrated, and turned his foot to inspect the bottom. The nail was embedded between the bones of two toes- though from the pain it probably at least chipped one of them. Steve half laughed- half gasped and grabbed the suit for support. "Push it out," he instructed.

"I recommend returning to the barn and Master Stark's laboratory before attempting such a thing. Medical diagnostics must-"

"Just push it the hell out!" Steve snapped. Without another word the suit obliged- using a metal finger to push from the top of the nail until enough of the backing had come through for Steve to grab and pull it the rest of the way out. A steady stream of blood followed. His foot was turning purple and swelling already. Between the wrenching pain, the adrenaline crash that left his hands shaking, and the realization of just how badly he'd injured his foot, Steve's temper abruptly broke. The dark thoughts that had swirled in his brain without control were completely gone. He was almost ashamed of the things he had been thinking. What was wrong with him lately?

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have snapped. Can you get me to the med lab JARVIS?" Steve softened his voice, suddenly tired.

"Of course, Mister Rogers. You have been under a great deal of strain these last several days, think no more of it." JARVIS was just a computer program, right? Sometimes Steve wondered if there was an actual human in there somewhere.

Steve let the suit fold around him to transport him back to the farmhouse. Inessa watched from inside the shadows of the cornfield. Something was wrong with Steve, but she couldn't pinpoint it. She sensed him leaving the farmhouse and followed- but the shade of him she had seen inside the Valley was... different. Something swirled around him, barely visible in the periphery. At first she wasn't even sure what she was seeing was real. It was as if something whispered in his ear.

Guilt consumed her, but she didn't regret what she had done. The thing around Steve was getting stronger, denser. She didn't want to see where it might lead- and so she'd placed the nail in his path. Pain disrupted whatever connection the shade had, and it dissipated as JARVIS removed the metal. She felt bad for harming her friend, but if that was what it took to dissipate whatever followed him, it was well worth it. She may be prepared to kill to keep her secret, but until that day came she had to protect her saviors.

Besides- if Steve had continued on much further he would have found the body.

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