MISTAKES

Tony wasn't waiting for her in the usual spot the following morning. She stood by entrance of the corridor for a good fifteen minutes before she finally spotted him coming towards her from the opposite end of the hall. She frowned.

He carried the usual tray with their morning coffees, a newspaper tucked under his arm, his expression far from the smile of greeting that she had grown accustomed to. Something had happened. It was unlike him to be late, and stranger still to not at least give her some notice that that would be the case. She hadn't felt this anxious to see him since her first week working for him. As he finally reached her side, he barely paused to say, "Let's go," holding out her coffee without looking at her. Still frowning, she took it and followed after him.

He led her out onto one of the balconies, staring out across the grounds as he sipped his drink, as if mentally preparing what he wanted to say.

"Coffee might be a little cold," he told her, absently.

She took a sip to test this out and found it lukewarm. The temperature wouldn't have been a problem – she often got so involved in her work that a fresh cup of coffee would sit forgotten on her desk until she finally had to drink it cold – but the sweet taste wasn't mixing well with the nervous flutter in her stomach. Why did she feel like she had done something wrong?

"Anything you want to tell me?" he finally asked, turning back to her.

She stared back, utterly confused, and could only shake her head, hoping it might prompt him to elaborate. He held the newspaper out to her and she took it, still frowning at him. She looked down at the front page and immediately realized what the problem was. Beneath the main article was a smaller one headed with 'VIENNA BOMBING SUSPECT SPOTTED AT LOCAL SUPERMARKET', beside it a slightly-blurred photo that had been captured from the CCTV footage over a year ago of a man who authorities had mistakenly identified as Bucky.

"You've got to be kidding me," Nellie muttered, as she hurriedly scanned over the rest of the article. This was sensationalism at its best. "He was cleared."

Tony snatched the paper back from her and tapped the second paragraph of the story, reading it aloud: "Accompanied by Helena Marshall, known employee of Mr. Tony Stark. You took the Winter Soldier grocery shopping?"

She could tell this was going to be bad. She wondered if Steve knew that he knew yet – though considering the mood Tony was in, she had a pretty good idea, now, what had kept him from their morning walk. Tony had never mentioned anything to her about Bucky – she had never heard him talk about the guy at all, even to others. But since Steve had asked her not tell him about Bucky's whereabouts she got the idea that there was something unresolved there – she just didn't know how serious that something was.

"So he's been hiding his buddy in plain sight, huh? I should have known."

"He seems alright, Tony," she said awkwardly. She knew straight away that she'd said the wrong thing. He looked at her in a way she had never seen before; a kind of irritated disbelief. Every so often she noticed the muscle in his jaw tense up, like he was chewing on something. She got the feeling that it was what he actually wanted to say.

"I'm sorry," she went on, "I know how this could make the company look if people get the wrong impression." She knew how hard he had worked to separate the company from the negative press it had received after Stark-produced weapons had ended up in the wrong hands; she could only imagine the field day the papers would have if they thought Tony was now involved with a once-accused terrorist. But the reputation of Stark Industries didn't seem to be his main concern.

"Forget about the company." He paused, retracting some of the anger that had been simmering beneath his words; reminding himself that none of this was her fault. Regathering his thoughts he went on, "I'm going to organize for your stuff to be brought back here. At least for the meantime. Heck, you can come back to New York. I've been meaning to cut back on the time I spend over this way, anyway."

Especially now that he knew he couldn't trust a word Rogers told him. In a matter of minutes, all that trust they had worked so hard to rebuild over the past months had suddenly crumbled. The moment he had seen the photo of Barnes's likeness the memories he had tried to suppress for so long had come flooding back – the horrible images on the CCTV footage…the car wreck…the bodies. He squeezed his eyes closed as if that might make them go away again.

Nellie gaped at him as his words sank in. Two days. It had lasted two days. Just the thought of having to move again, even if the compound was more convenient, and who knew how long that arrangement would last? "Tony, I don't want to move again. I'm fine where I am. Really. It's not a big deal."

He looked at her again and she could see how strongly he felt otherwise. She'd heard about what had gone down between the team members during the conflict months back – had briefly been there to witness the fallout and recovery – but still this reaction seemed a little strong. Hadn't Bucky been proven to be working under Russian influence? Hadn't he saved the Captain's life once before? From what she had been told, he'd had multiple opportunities to kill more than one member in different instances, and yet he hadn't.

"You have no idea what he did," Tony said, and there was an odd strain to his voice.

"I heard."

He shook his head. "Not all of it."

She thought of the way Steve always seemed so vigilant around his friend, about her initial thoughts on Bucky's stability. Then she thought of the time they had spent together the night before – the happy little smile on his face as he had recounted the story from his childhood; the calm contentment of simply sitting in a kitchen with the two soldiers and sharing good food. As brief as her time had been there, she felt more settled than she had in a while. Since she had first begun her job in New York, Tony had shifted her around from place to place to suit his needs, and she had gone with it, to what she now realized was her own detriment. She needed somewhere to settle down, at least for a while. She needed somewhere to call home; somewhere she could find peace at the end of a long day.

"I'd like to stay," she told him, finally, her voice soft as if to not provoke him.

He stared at her for a moment as if debating something in his head. He seemed disappointed in her; like she had betrayed him somehow – like she had chosen a side. It all seemed like such an overreaction. She thought all of this had been resolved. Then he gave a nod – the kind of nod she had seen him give people before. It was the nod he gave when he didn't see the point of arguing further; a final kind of nod that said he still didn't agree. Before he left, he told her one last thing:

"Just don't give me a reason to say I told you so."

She watched him disappear back into the compound, a heavy weight settling on her. In that instant she felt their relationship shift ever so slightly, and for a moment she was worried that it might never be the same again. She only hoped that her decision would be worth it. Because she didn't feel that peace anymore.

As distracted as she was for the rest of the day, she managed to keep herself busy with a mound of reading and had a stack of notes written by lunchtime. It wasn't until reading over them that she realized how little sense they made. There was no way she could turn them in. A whole morning's worth of work wasted. She leaned forward, elbows resting on her desk as she rubbed at her temples, then leaned back to stretch. Her eyebrows shot up, mouth open mid-yawn as she found Steve standing in the doorway. He was holding two coffees and looked slightly uncomfortable.

"You look like you could use this," he said to her, gesturing with one of the cups.

"Caffeine for a headache?"

He looked hesitant and she suddenly felt bad for teasing. Sometimes she still couldn't get over how genuine the guy was. She got up from her desk, leg muscles crying out in joy at being stretched after such a lengthy session of being seated. Steve passed her a cup.

"I wasn't sure what you drank, so…"

"Thanks. I appreciate it," she smiled before taking a sip. Definitely not this, she thought, as the bland taste of soy-dulled coffee hit her taste buds. Steve watched as if waiting for a verdict.

"It's fine," she lied. "Thanks."

He smiled again, then some sudden thought seemed to dissolve the brief gesture. "Do you feel like taking a walk?"

She nodded and he led the way.

The air was warm outside as they walked out past the training grounds. Steve stopped occasionally to offer a friendly greeting to the crew members on the ground as they busied themselves with crates that had just arrived on one of the supply jets. Nellie had never met any of these people – it had never occurred to her that she should have any reason to – but Steve seemed to know most of them by name. She watched his interactions with a curious smile. He was a sweet guy, Steve; sometimes it was easy to forget how lethal he could be under the right circumstances. He caught her smile as he turned back to her, and still managed to look humble, even after all the attention, like he hadn't done anything out of the ordinary.

"Something wrong?" he asked.

She shook her head, redirecting her gaze across the lawn. "No, you just never cease to surprise me, sometimes."

"Is that a good thing?" he chuckled lightly.

"Yeah. It's a nice change, I guess."

As they continued on beyond the parameter of potential eavesdropping, he finally brought up what she had already guessed was on his mind.

"Has Tony spoken to you yet?"

She sipped her coffee, her gaze focused on the path ahead. "Yeah. We had a chat this morning."

He nodded, expression grim enough to match her own. "Yeah, same here." He glanced back over at her and went on, "I saw the article. I still can't believe they're allowed to print something like that in the paper. It's…what do they call it?"

"Defamation of character?" she suggested, though she knew that wasn't entirely true. Sure, Bucky's name had been cleared and he hadn't been in his right mind during all the attacks – not to mention that he hadn't been the one to carry out the bombing in Vienna – but that didn't change the fact that he had been used to commit terrible atrocities. That was something that would hang over the guy for the rest of his life. She recalled the tired, drawn look he always seemed to have on his face and wondered how anyone could think that he had gotten off without consequence.

"Yeah, that's right. So, what did Tony have to say?" Steve asked.

"I got the impression that he thinks I've gone over to the dark side or something." She glanced over at him. "You get that reference, right?"

"Yeah. Star Wars?"

She nodded, the corner of her mouth turning up as she took another sip of her coffee, before she went on, "He basically said he was going to pull me out of the apartment. Not literally," she added, catching the odd look that crossed the captain's face – as if he wouldn't put anything past Tony Stark right now. "Just, bring me back to New York, he meant."

"I could understand if that's what you want." His gaze fell away from her and she could have sworn he looked almost disappointed.

"It's not. I told him I wanted to stay." She watched for a reaction and a small smile appeared on the captain's face.

"I'm glad to hear it. Plus I wouldn't say no to some more of those brownies," he said, making her smile.

"Be careful with those or you won't be able to fit into that spandex."

He laughed. He was already dressed for the mission, his outfit these days a toned down navy blue instead of the bright red, white and blue of the past. As iconic as that old outfit was, she found she preferred this look. There was something more mature about it, like he had graduated past that old character and settled into something more distinguished. They continued on in a comfortable silence before he finally spoke again.

"Well, Bucky seems to like you."

She smiled at that. It was hard to see the ex-assassin as everyone besides Steve seemed to. She couldn't imagine what it must have been like carrying around the stuff that he did every day. She was surprised that, after everything he had been through, he still managed to retain a sense of humor about things. She thought of his comment about Steve's spaghetti and smiled to herself, and then suddenly recalled the look on Steve's face the night before.

"I kind of got the feeling you weren't happy about him coming out with me yesterday."

Steve's expression was suddenly hard to read. "No, that was, well, he doesn't usually want to go out much, not after everything that's happened. I was just surprised is all. I'm glad you two are getting along. He doesn't trust a lot of people these days. I'm actually more surprised considering your links to Tony."

"He mentioned something, Tony. About me not knowing the whole story. Any idea what he meant by that?"

Steve's expression grew grim once more.

"I think that's for Tony to tell you. I'd rather not get into it."

"Okay," she replied, more suspicious than ever. There was something in the captain's tone that she had never heard before; a kind of stiffness that told her not to push the subject any further. It felt like the tiniest of glimpses at a darker side of the man, and she was almost tempted to push, if only to see what would happen.

"What I really wanted to discuss with you is this mission."

"Are you sure I have the clearance for that kind of information?" she joked bitterly.

He almost smiled but there was a touch of concern to his expression now. "Not quite what I meant. I just want to know if you're comfortable being left alone with Bucky for a few days?"

She frowned. "Is there a reason I shouldn't be?"

"I'm going to give you my number. You should probably have it now, anyway, all things considered. But just in case you need anything."

"About time," she joked again, but she couldn't help but notice the way he avoided the question. "Steve, what are you worried is going to happen? You've gone away before while he was staying with you, right?"

"Yeah, I have." He paused, considering how much he wanted to tell her; what he could say that wouldn't frighten her too much. "He seems to cope better when I'm around. Reminds him of his old self, I guess. He'll probably keep to himself. Don't be surprised if you don't see him much the whole time I'm gone. But like I said, I think he's starting to trust you. I think you should be okay."

She was concerned that he sounded more like he was trying to convince himself than reassure her.

"So, any advice for what I should do on the off chance I'm not?"

He looked over at her, his soft, blue eyes growing serious under his furrowed brow. "Just be patient with him. He needs that these days."

That afternoon, she returned to her desk feeling more invigorated and clear-headed after their walk, and feeling more confident in her decision to persevere with the move. She had almost entirely forgotten the disappointed look on Tony's face that morning – that was until she spotted another gift from him sitting on the table. There was no note this time; just a plain manila folder marked with the old S.H.I.E.L.D. crest. She hesitated to open it, already knowing what she would find inside.

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

The picture attached to the first report looked so unlike the man she had cooked dinner with the night before. Though the photo was slightly blurred, as if it had been taken while in motion, the empty, driven look in his eyes was unmistakable. This had been at the height of his mind control; when he was so far from himself that he had barely registered trying to kill his childhood friend. Finding it difficult to look at it any longer, she slipped the file to the back to view the next one. She had just begun to read the report – which included a long list of all his known and suspected victims – when she changed her mind and flipped the folder closed, tossing it back down onto the desk. What was the point in reading all this? What was Tony trying to prove? That she was in danger? That Bucky was the danger? She wasn't sure she wanted the bias, though she had always been partial to knowing the facts. But something was stopping her. Placing the folder up on top of her tray of paperwork, she told herself she would look it over later, if only to ease Tony's obvious concerns. Picking up a book she had found, labelled 'Myths and Legends of the Universe',she decided to give herself a break from all the politics and settled in for something a little more interesting.

The apartment was quiet again when she arrived home that night. Without Steve's presence it always seemed to lose some of its warmth. Dumping tonight's load of research and paperwork on the dining table, she walked over to the record player and perused the collection of records on the shelf below it, smiling as she remembered the AC/DC vinyl in her room. She doubted 'You Shook Me All Night Long' would do much to provide a calming environment, so settled instead for The Best of Glenn Miller, figuring she would at least better understand the reference on Tony's note.

As 'In the Mood' began to fill the space with a soft, energetic beat, Nellie set to work making herself a coffee. She had found some interesting theories in the Myths and Legends book, and had been looking forward to researching them further (even if it didn't technically count as work-related – she figured she deserved a bit of downtime). As the machine brewed her drink for her, she wandered towards the hallway, ears pricked for sounds coming from the second bedroom. There was nothing this time. Remembering the captain's request for patience, she let it be.

As the night wore on, she thought she heard stirring in the hallway, then heard the definite sound of the shower. Part of her hoped Bucky might join her again, or at least check in and see what she was doing up so late, but when the water shut off and she heard a couple of doors open and close, she realized it wasn't going to happen. Biting back her disappointment, she continued to read.

The following morning she had still seen no sign of the elusive ex-assassin. She left a note on the bench with her contact number and a short message telling him to call her and let her know what he felt like for dinner; that she'd pick something up on the way back. She eyed the wireless phone in the kitchen, assuming Bucky knew how to use it, and moved to collect her work. After the struggle she'd had with carrying and sorting through the last lot of notes the previous morning, she made the sound decision to leave the unnecessary ones behind for another day. Debating whether or not to take the Myths and Legends book for a bit of light reading on her lunch break, she decided against it, leaving it instead to act as a paperweight for the files below. Not realizing that, amongst the sea of manila folders and envelopes, lay the folder marked JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES.