The young man paced around the small quarters, barely comfortable in the space. He started threading a few fingers through his blanched hair, tugging on it lightly as he made his way to the single window and back. An unfortunate byproduct of his time in contact with the scepter, it had grown on him over the last several months. Threaded with the original dark auburn, he thought it made him look older, imposing. A physical sign that he was not average, and perhaps not to be trifled with. He was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he strode back and forth, his jaw working as he went. The energy was coiled inside, threatening to spill over. And yet, he had no way to exorcise it, being forced to stay put. The cold stone of the walls, combined with the years of neglect, had made the place less than homey, but he did not care too much about it. It was a place to stay, and it would not be permanent. No home was permanent, he knew that much. But still, the hodgepodge elements—the sparsely furnished sitting space, the hastily grafted kitchenette—were a step up from the last shelter they'd been in. Just a little. However, it was not enough.

Once again, he approached the baron, an audience granted for five minutes of the leader's time. In less than that, he had entirely shot down the younger one's pleas. As ever, they fell upon deaf ears. Focus on building the army was absolute, and in the meantime, the Enhanced would have to wait. Rather, the baron was irritated to be badgered at the time, and was obviously in no humor to listen to him. The suggestion to go out with scouting crews, or to spread the word through the local populace (his people, no less) was deemed unnecessary. They were getting so close to achieving the ultimate goal. Being sidetracked due to the impatience of one could disrupt the whole. Ultimately, Strucker refused, and furthermore laid down restrictions. No separate missions, no contact with the outside world, nothing. Any access to the outer grounds, up to and including the abandoned tunnel entrance, would be strictly monitored. They would be effective immediately and would remain in place until it was the right moment. Pietro scoffed out loud, but only once he was far away from Strucker, and only in the presence of the one person he trusted in the world. Coming to rest for a brief moment, he flashed a glance in her direction, where she was seated cross-legged on the couch, letting him wander unattended. Tapping his finger on the weathered windowsill, he did not hesitate to speak.

"Do you think we'll ever get our chance, Wanda?"

Wanda looked up from her book, one of the few treasures permitted to travel with her between hideouts. It was one of her favorites, once borrowed to her from a fellow protester two years ago after a demonstration against the Avengers in the capital. Though faded and worn due to water damage and other various assaults, it had survived. Her auburn tresses were bound back for once, though the end of it was slung over her shoulder. Shrugging, she set the book aside, allowing herself to concentrate fully on her brother's question. Folding her hand in her lap, she sighed.

"If the baron had his way...I don't know," she murmured, wary of being overheard. Though they were given as much space as possible (and her abilities helped perpetuate enough terror from the guards to ensure this), she was never sure that they were totally alone. HYDRA had lasted long against its enemies, protected itself even from the inside. For all either of them knew, they could be spying on them with cameras and other such things, things she could not sense because they were not sentient. Shaking off her brooding thoughts, she considered the baron again. "He fears too much right now. Not just us, but...everything."

Pietro's finger had stilled, his body at rest as she spoke. Emboldened by her brother's sudden peace, she chose to speak her mind, in their first language.

"He fears the future, that he won't be able to control it."

Slowly, he nodded, understanding and answering in kind. "To control us."

"That, too," Wanda breathed, reverting to English with a sardonic grin coming to her lips. Pietro returned it briefly, his gaze becoming unfocused as he looked out the window again. Though it was spring, light snow was falling, peppering the hillside and the raised walls of the compound, the little he could see from that point. At least he could see that much of his country, now that his privileges had been curtailed.

"I didn't want this, when we joined," he confessed quietly, leaning his elbows on the sill, a rumble in his throat. Wanda looked on him, his profile resembling their father's so much to the point that she felt pinpricks at her eyelids. Pressing against them, effectively pushing back the sudden tears, she exhaled sharply.

"I know what you wanted. What you still want," she said, the ever-burning fire in her heart spiking for a second or two. The single name fueling the hatred bloomed in her mind, followed by the smug, selfish face it belonged to. Stark; a name she would never forget, never forgive, and a man she would never give quarter to. Sensing her brother's own inner upsurge of feeling, she reaffirmed, "I want it, too. And I know we will have our chance."

Pietro smirked at the glass, his attention still on the drifting snow outside. "You haven't been able to bend the world to your will yet, sister. Just weak men."

Wanda shrugged. "Perhaps not. But I do know that we will get out of here. I can feel it."

Her brother snorted at that, but there was little animosity in it. He knew better than to disparage his sister's gut feelings. Thus far, it had kept them alive, through riots and war and debilitating experiments.

"Do you think you could speed it along?" Pietro asked instead, earning a dry chuckle for his efforts.

"Not fast enough for you, it seems," Wanda responded, eyes darting around curiously. Motioning for him to come closer, she waited until he sat down beside her, ears bent towards her as she whispered in their mother tongue, "But when it comes, we must take it. No matter what he says, or orders."

She shot a look at the door, as if the baron were standing there, his disapproving glare resting on them. He took her hand, clasping it as if to establish a pact, something they'd done many times since childhood. He nodded once. When the chance came—no ifs, he would not let himself think that way—he would take it, and run with his sister.

And they would do what they were meant to do.

"Stark first," he said, in English, a reminder.

"The others after," she replied, a promise.

xXxXxXx

"Can I just say how sorry I am for giving you so much crap back in the day?" Holly began the video call, her eyes wide as she held up the bridal magazines she' picked up the week before. The woman on the other end laughed, settling back in her desk chair as she watched the pages flip in the camera lens.

"That's what happens. Karma comes and bites you in the ass," Heather retorted, smiling evilly at her younger sister's lamentable expression. Having received a message from her a few days earlier, the two siblings planned on that evening after work to catch up, while the significant others were occupied (Steve was back in New York for the week, and Jake was busy spending "man time" with their little boys...which would inevitably be dominated by the the toddler wanting to play pretend or insisting on watching Bubble Guppies over whatever ball game was stored on the TiVo). Having not seen each other since Christmas, it was a chance Heather was more than ready to leap at. Particularly given her sister's sudden matrimonial developments. Her eyes, a few shades lighter brown than Holly's, glittered as she tucked back errant strands of her hair. Oh, she would enjoy this.

The older of the two Martin sisters had gone through her fair share of teasing and incredulity at Holly's hands over four years ago, when she was planning her wedding. She just hoped Holly would fare better than she did; she'd started crying every time she had to listen to songs for the first dance, which Hank had teased her about. Well, until she popped him in the shoulder, then he was a little teary, too.

Holly shook her head, gaze narrowing as she gave a sarcastic laugh at her sister's words. "I mean, picking colors, right down to the groomsmen's ties? And then dresses, centerpieces, bridal party gifts, DJs that don't suck...we haven't even settled on a date yet."

She flopped back on her couch, massaging her temples briefly. It was her fault for even looking into all that this early in the game. She couldn't help herself; she wanted to get an idea of what she was going to need to take care of, and so she investigated. She'd known that weddings involved a lot of work, had been a bridesmaid, but she still was a little stunned by the amount of detail that could go into the event. Trolling wedding blogs and websites did not improve her outlook on the situation.

"This is all so overwhelming," she grumbled. Heather lifted a shoulder, cupping one hand in the air while the other lifted up the wine glass she was keeping off to the side. Taking a sip of it, she gestured for Holly to follow suit. Which she did, after fetching her glass from where it had been perched: on the kitchen counter, left in the rush to answer the call on the computer before it was too late.

"I know, it can be," Heather said after she'd taken a drink, some sympathy coming through now. Dipping her chin, she made a dismissive gesture, confidence infusing her tone. "You'll figure it out. You're smart...ish."

Holly stuck her tongue out at her for a second, snickering humorlessly. "Shut up."

The two traded remarks as Holly flipped through the pages of one magazine or another, the conversation injected with the ongoing events of Heather's life. Final projects were coming due for her students, and given that she was the English teacher, she had to look forward to quite a few papers. Between that and Jake's decent quarter thus far at the office, and little Cole deciding he needed to start throwing anything and everything "just like Cap Steve does on TV" in the house, it had been a busy couple of months in their house. Holly had responded with a warm smile in regards to her nephew's shenanigans, snippets of work and life coming through. Not much could be told, all things considered, but what little could be divulged, she wanted to hear about it.

"Anything else going on?" Heather asked after a moment, watching her sister closely. Holly shrugged, shaking her head, but her expression had darkened slightly, adopting a stony look. Tutting under her breath, Heather pointed at her camera, the finger waving around as she gestured at it. "You're doing that thing where that line in your forehead becomes pronounced when you're thinking too hard."

Holly immediately placed her hand over it, feeling the groove with her fingers. "Am I?"

Sighing, and not surprised by the slight deflection, Heather continued, "Can't be just because of wedding stuff; you've only been engaged for a month."

True, the younger one allowed the point to be made. Her sibling was not wrong. However, she bit her lip momentarily, unsure of how much she could honestly say.

"I...it's not something I can really talk about," she murmured, the furrow growing more pronounced. Heather mimicked it on her end, the family resemblance becoming marked then.

"Oh...is it a Steve thing?" she asked, dropping her voice low. If was something to do with him, with his work, she could understand the worry. After all, he had probably one of the most dangerous occupations on the planet, and the fact that Holly had stuck with him despite that said quite a bit. Heather knew she would never be able to live with that kind of danger, that fear.

"It's an important thing, and will involve him at some point," Holly muttered, gripping her hands tightly together to stop herself from tugging her sleeves down over them. "I'm just...I've been sitting on it for awhile, trying to feel it out before saying anything."

It was a wonder she'd lasted that long, not telling Steve about Bucky's reappearances. Part of her was waiting to see if he would show up again, but so far, she'd glimpsed nothing of the fellow, her life proceeding as though he'd never made a blip on the radar. The only reason she was getting away with keeping her mouth shut was the prolonged absences; with Steve in New York part of the time, he couldn't always be around to see her brooding, contemplating what she had been made privy to. Still, she knew he was starting to suspect, and she didn't want it hanging over them. Not now, not with so much at stake.

The older woman inclined her eyebrows, clicking her tongue. "That's very vague."

Again, her point was valid. But how could she tell her about a former assassin that had taken up the mantle of guardian? How could she say that he was once her fiance's best friend...from his childhood? And how could she say that he had no idea that the aforementioned friend was doing this to make up for his sins? Seriously, how could she express those details without her sister becoming either entirely lost or terrified for her safety? She dropped her head in her hands then, pulling them back through her hair to tie it up in a ponytail, attempting to formulate a response.

"Sorry, that's about as much as I can give away. It's just...one of those things where I know there's going to be a big reaction when I tell him about it, but I don't know what kind of reaction it will be."

Heather's mouth dropped open then, shock decorating her face. "Oh my God, you're pregnant."

Not expecting that, Holly gasped at her sister's leap in logic, coughing hard as she began to choke on her own saliva. After a couple of minutes spent hacking, she swallowed down some wine swiftly, wetting her throat enough for the gasping breaths to peter off. Wiping away the water that had accumulated in her eyes, she shot the computer screen a sharp glare.

"Good Lord, you almost killed me," she grunted shakily, holding up a hand to preempt Heather from saying anything. "I'm not pregnant."

Draining the last dregs from her glass, Heather tipped her head to the side, a hand pressed to her chest. "Well, pardon me for coming to that conclusion. You know, with the needing to tell your fiance something important that you've been holding back because you're afraid of what he'll say and all that."

Holly frowned. When she put it like that, yeah, perhaps making that connection wasn't too out there. Still, she knew the truth, and her sister couldn't be further from it.

"You're pardoned," she replied with just a hint of snark, a laugh at the back of her sentence. Her expression sobered as she went on, "It's just...I can't hold it in much longer, and I don't know what I should do."

For a long moment the sisters looked at one another, a sense of familiarity settling over them even with serious subject matter. Even though Holly gravitated more towards their brother, she and Heather had had their moments together growing up, a little sister looking up to the older one for help navigating the world around them. It was a lot of pressure for Heather back then, wanting her space and separate identity from her, but she didn't want her sister to fall when she could prevent it. Just like now. Circumstances varied, but ultimately, it was still the same.

Swirling the empty glass in her hand, she inhaled deeply, eyes cutting to the right. "Well, with the lack of detail provided, I can't give you specifics. All I can give you is some standard older sister advice. You ready for it?"

"Sure."

Heather looked her straight in the eye then, gaze never wavering. "Just tell him the truth already. If he explodes on you, that's his issue, not yours. Is it something that you did deliberately?"

Holly shook her head again. "No. I wasn't even aware of it until a little while ago."

"Sure you're not pregnant?" her sister teased, and off her sour look, she giggled, "Kidding. Look, ultimately, you've gotta do what your gut tells ya, and knowing you, it's screaming at you for not being honest. Am I close to the mark?"

A deadpan look graced the younger woman's face. "You're Hawkeye level, and knowing him personally, let me tell you, that's saying something."

Heather chuckled once more, accepting the pseudo-compliment for what it was worth. "Okay. But you knew this already. You just needed to hear it said out loud by someone else, didn't you?"

A corner of Holly's mouth lifted, something akin to relief in her face. "Yeah, I did."

Deep down, she knew that she had to tell Steve about Bucky; she'd told him so herself. Having Heather confirm it, support it even, was enough to give her the courage to do so. When she saw him next, she would do what she promised Bucky would happen. Steve would know the truth, and they would proceed from there.

"Glad I can be of use," the elder Martin sister remarked, inclining her head as a sort of mock bow. In return, she was given a wide smile for her gesture.

"Thanks, Heather," Holly intoned, genuinely glad to have at least talked about it with someone, even if she couldn't go into details. Deciding to change the subject, she put a finger to her chin, painting on a look of intensity. "Now what do you think of puce for the bridesmaids' dresses?"

Heather nearly gagged, her eyes boggling. "God, I've never liked that color. Always makes me think it's gonna look like puke, even though it doesn't. Imagine that, a pukey dress walking down the aisle."

Holly wrinkled her nose at that. "And you wonder why we don't talk very often."

xXxXxXx

The screen went blank, the secure line in her office closed as Maria sank back into her chair. Over a year since the fall of SHIELD, over a year since the loss of the helicarriers, and now, finally, results. HYDRA was broken, but not beaten, in the battle over the Potomac, and despite numerous efforts to the contrary, Maria did not think that the end would ever be in sight. Organizations like that, they fell, but they did not disappear. There was always someone there to hold up the banner, to wave the challenge of evil in the face of the righteous. But perhaps, now, there could be hope for an end.

Exhaling softly, she closed her eyes as the files began to fill her inbox, all the intel gathered by Coulson and his team transferred to her swiftly. Tapping from one to the next, she could feel anticipation growing. Private files, known references, allies, enemies, all information pertaining to the last branch of HYDRA was there, at her fingertips. Deftly, she maneuvered it all on the server, downloading it and keeping it safe in the Avengers' systems. Setting up the printer to print off backup paper files, she rose from her desk, taking her tablet along and hooking her Bluetooth onto her ear. Striding confidently up to the elevator, she tapped into the main line.

"JARVIS, contact all team links, and tell everyone to gather immediately."

"Yes, ma'am, although I will let you know that Dr. Banner has already called the team to the lab. Evidently, the tracking system for locating the scepter has been yielding some results."

The smile she gave in answer to that was nearly feral, as she paged through a few photos exposing Doctor List as he was boarding a plane for Sokovia. Finally, everything was coming together.

"Perfect. I'll go to them, then."

Exiting off the line with JARVIS, she stepped into the elevator, taking it to the top floors of the Tower. As she did so, Maria tapped in to make another call, accessing another secure line.

"Hill," the gruff voice on the other end greeted her, all smoothness and authority as always. It made Maria grin slightly to hear it, though she did not let it linger long.

"I thought you might want to hear the news when everybody else does, sir."

"Why not? An old man needs to have entertainment every now and again," was the response, dry as sandpaper. Going up the stairs to the laboratory, she listened as Banner's voice floated down, mingled with Stark's as they discussed the ramifications of the new data. A lot of technical jargon, some of which even she didn't understand, shot out, the back-and-forth between them building in intensity with each breath. She paused on the landing, choosing to let them talk for a moment before barging in.

"With the scepter making more appearances on the radar, we'll able to find Strucker that much quicker," Bruce crowed, brown eyes alight with cautious glee. For months, there had been nothing to report as far as the tracking with, an odd spot here and there coming up, too short to register even a location with a set radius. But now, over the last couple of days, the blips had been coming up more often, enough to make a difference.

"The sooner, the better. Whatever he's using that thing on, it's gotta be something pretty big," Stark interjected, his own dark gaze darting from one team member to the next. "I, for one, want to know what's up with the man behind the curtain."

Steve, catching the minute referencing, let a corner of his mouth turn up briefly, seriousness invading his face again soon after that. About to speak, he was cut off by another remark.

"It's not going to be anything good," Clint indicated, sharing a look with Romanoff, both of them sporting expressions of wariness behind the pleasure at the news. After all, they had been the ones sifting through mined and stolen files for nearly a year, and nothing that HYDRA had a hand in was of a positive nature. Schematics alone showed that they were planning on building massive weaponry, and there was evidence of deceased test subjects being exposed to the power of the scepter. Whatever Stark hoped to find now, they knew it would most likely be horrifying.

However, the god in the corner looked just as pleased as the two scientists, grin spread wide and eyes bright. "Still, we are that much closer to find them, and the scepter. That is enough for me."

Rogers stepped forward, following Bruce's finger as he changed from one wall display to the next, showing the changes. "How soon do you think you could pin down a location?"

An edge of eagerness bled into his voice; so much of him wanted this threat, the bane of his existence for what seemed like a lifetime, gone, and to have it be so close was tantalizing. It needed to be done, and done quickly, but when?

Judging the time to be right, Maria knocked on the door frame, alerting the others to her presence. Six pairs of eyes fastened on her as she strode into the lab, swiping through the files until she found the correct one.

"Much sooner than you think," she told the captain, gesturing with the device in her hand. "A contact of mine just supplied me with this."

Flipping her tablet around, she faced it towards him and the rest of the team. A map was displayed on its surface with a town pinpointed in red. Novi Grad, Sokovia. Dragging her finger across the screen, it showed an enlarged photograph of a stone compound, a blurry image of the baron meeting outside of it with Doctor List following. Looking around at each of their faces, she could see a myriad of expressions, but they all had the same layer filtering through beneath them: hope.

"It's now."

A/N: ...This chapter was very family themed, wasn't it? Well, the twins wanted their time, and I wasn't about to refuse. ;) I did not bother translating their sentences into another language because, well, being an English speaker who relies on Google to translate for me, odds are that wouldn't have worked out so well. A word here and there, sure. But full sentences...well, I italicized them to indicate the switch between languages. Yeah, they have those superpowers and are multilingual? Well done, Maximoffs. And Heather makes her first sequel appearance, yay!

It's right there, you guys, right there! Age of Ultron is right there! That being said, I don't own anything from the MCU, nor do I own any mentioned pop culture references (Wizard of Oz shout-out; definitely don't own that. Well, I own two copies of the film. Which I love...they have different bonus features on them, that's why I have so many).

PS—No, I have not seen the Deadpool movie yet...don't judge me, I'm going to see it as soon as I can!

Anyway, thanks for reading, please review, and I'll see you all for the next one!