Hello all! So this is actually the last proper chapter of this story. HOWEVER, there are three epilogues. So called because they'll span a decent chunk of time, and will be quite short.

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DBZFAN45: So glad you enjoyed the chapter! Enjoy this last proper chapter :)

Maggie and Bucky stood hand in hand outside a black-painted door in a corridor lit by yellow lights, a few hours before midnight.

Their bruises from the attack on the GRC had long since faded, and they had not left the city since then. It had only taken them fifteen minutes on the subway to get here, but it had taken much longer for Bucky to be ready for this.

For a few moments, they stood in silence, staring at the closed door. The temperature had dropped since sundown, and they both wore dark coats. Maggie squeezed Bucky's hand, feeling strangely heavy and tired, as she had since the GRC attack. Bucky drew in a breath and looked at her.

"We can come back later," she murmured.

He shook his head and wordlessly raised his hand to knock three times. Maggie thought, bizarrely, of the police officers that had to be the ones to tell families their loved ones had died. She suddenly wondered who had told Tony that his family had died, all those years ago. She wondered what they'd looked like and if it had been their first time passing on news like that.

The door opened quickly, revealing a man Maggie had only seen in pictures; short, wizened, with pale white hair and a creased frown. He wore a brown suit.

"Hey," Yori said, his dark eyes on Bucky with a concerned look. "What are you doing here?" His eyes flicked to Maggie and widened with recognition. "You're…"

Bucky's mouth quirked, despite himself. "I wasn't lying about having a girlfriend outta town."

Yori's mouth opened and closed. "It's late." He glanced into the corridor. "Come in before someone calls the cops."

"Do you want me to wait outside?" Maggie asked softly. Bucky shook his head.

They stepped through into the darker room beyond, which smelled of incense and tatami. Maggie's eyes swept around Yori's home; simple furniture, Japanese in style, a few art hangings and maps on the walls, and a Buddhist shrine against the far wall. That was where the incense was burning, the smoky tendrils hovering in the air around a framed picture of Yori's son, RJ. He was a handsome young man, with a nice smile. Maggie had killed plenty of handsome young men with nice smiles. Her stomach clenched.

"What are you doing here?" Yori said, his eyes flicking occasionally to Maggie, as if checking she was real. "It's not a Wednesday."

Maggie felt Bucky's hand slip from hers.

"I uh… I have to tell you something," he murmured. Yori nodded encouragingly. Like a friend. "About your son."

Yori's face shuttered a little, but he was still listening.

"Maybe we should sit down," Maggie said softly. Yori nodded, and shuffled over to a well-worn chair by the window. He sat, and Bucky and Maggie took seats at the table nearby.

Bucky looked down and slid his glove off his metal hand.

Yori sat back, eyes on the metal hand. Then his gaze flicked to Maggie, and up to Bucky's face, and something clarified in his eyes.

"He was murdered," Bucky said, unflinching but gentle.

"What?" Yori breathed, and Maggie's stomach clenched again. His eyes were gleaming in the lamplight.

"By the Winter Soldier." Yori's expression shifted as he pieced information together, and Bucky's breath shook on his next words: "And that was me."

Maggie bowed her head, fighting not to wrap Bucky or Yori in her arms. She could only be a witness, a supporter here. Like Tony had had to sit back at her trial and watch.

"Why?" Yori finally breathed.

Bucky drew in a shuddering breath and finally broke eye contact, his jaw working. When he looked back up at Yori his eyes were gleaming too. "I didn't have a choice."

Yori's expression crumpled. He looked away, as if to hide it, but couldn't hide the sound of his weeping. Maggie closed her eyes.

They stayed a few more minutes after that. Yori had questions, and tears, and anger. Bucky had expected all of that, and Maggie had seen it all before with the mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers of all those she'd killed.

When they left they were both cold, and heavy, and stone-faced with exhaustion. The last thing Yori had said, tear-stained and shaking, after asking them to leave, was thank you.

It did not lighten the burden.

They walked together into the night air of New York City, their cold hands clasped together. Maggie could still smell incense in her hair.

They walked for blocks and blocks in silence. Maggie just watched the city around them, lights and people and taxis driving past. They even passed a digital poster for a new Smithsonian Exhibit: CAPTAIN AMERICA: NOW WITH UPDATED MEMORIAL EXHIBIT AND NEVER-BEFORE-SEEN ISAIAH BRADLEY STATUE AND TESTIMONIAL. The words were accompanied by a photograph of a hard-lined face in bronze, wearing a military cap.

So much had changed. The remaining Flagsmashers had been murdered during a prison transfer, and Zemo imprisoned in the Raft. Walker had secured some confidential government job, and Sharon was likely to be pardoned any day now. The GRC had put the Patch Act on hold, and were finally beginning to listen.

Maggie was lost in thought thinking about all these changes when Bucky finally spoke.

"Sam was right."

Maggie drew her gaze off the city, and looked at Bucky. His face still seemed carved of stone, but some of the warmth had returned to him. She did not speak.

"It's not about making me feel better," he continued. "It's about giving them closure."

"Do you feel better?" she asked.

"No," he said instantly. Then: "Yes." He frowned. "Both. Tired."

"I know," she murmured. She lifted his hand and pressed it between both of hers, and ducked her head to kiss his knuckles. "Bucky… you will never get a trial, nor will your victims. But I've been wondering if some of the things that were said to me after my trial might help you. There's two that stick in my mind."

She slowed on the sidewalk until they both stopped, and she turned to face him. A billboard overhead flashed, casting a kaleidoscope of colours over Bucky's dark hair. She held his hands in hers.

"Mr Barnes," she said seriously, remembering Judge Moore with his usually unreadable eyes that had turned warm on that day. "The jury has found you not guilty on all charges." Bucky's mouth quirked a little. She looked into his eyes. "You are free to go home."

Bucky looked down.

"When the judge told me that, I couldn't believe it. But Andrea made it real. She told me… the rest of your life belongs to you."

Bucky let out a long breath that steamed into vapour, his face working. She could see him wrestling with the words, wanting to throw them off. Knowing that he shouldn't. Couldn't. Mustn't.

When he finally looked up again, his eyes were gleaming with tears.

"What now?" she asked.

"Like Sam said," he sighed. "Go out there, and be of service."

She smiled. "He's a wise man."

The next morning, they broke into Doctor Raynor's office.

Only to leave a gift, of course. Steve and Bucky's notebook, with all the names crossed off. And a note:

I finished the book. Thanks for all your help, Doc.

"No more therapy?" Maggie had asked, her hands in her pockets as she eyed the forest-themed wallpaper in the office.

"Maybe," Bucky shrugged, setting the gift up just so. He pulled back. "But not right now, and not with her. I'd want someone who wasn't assigned to me by the government. Someone I choose. I think she'd respect that."

They made sure to lock up the office carefully behind them.

That afternoon, after checking in once more with Yori, they finally left the city. When the car rolled to a halt on the gravel driveway behind their house and they both climbed out, Maggie drew in a deep breath of the forest air and closed her eyes.

"Hm," she said, opening her eyes to watch the light streaming through the branches to splay across the roof of their house.

"What?" Bucky asked, stretching as he crunched around the car toward her.

"I don't know. Smells different somehow."

He rubbed her back and they walked around the house, down to the lakefront. "Well, we're different. Every time we leave, we come back different."

Suppose that's why I wanted to stay, for such a long time.

Bucky shaded his eyes as they left the cover of the trees and stepped onto the rocky shore. "We should take more pictures together."

She laughed and looked at him. "What?"

"We don't have enough pictures of the two of us." He took her hand. "And we're long past hiding."

Maggie smiled, then heard a shout.

Out in the middle of the lake, on a dinghy, a small dark-haired girl was waving madly, having spotted them on the shore. Maggie grinned. Pepper and Morgan sat in the dinghy with Artemis - she couldn't see any fishing lines, they must have just been out to enjoy the warmer weather. The dinghy rocked back and forth with the violence of Morgan's excitement on seeing her aunt and uncle.

Maggie waved back, then stopped when she realized Bucky had left her side; he was striding down the rocky beach, kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his leather jacket.

"Ah, it's good to be back," he sighed, tossing his jacket behind him without looking.

"Oh you're not, are you?" Maggie laughed.

He stepped into the water, soaking his jeans, then looked over his shoulder. "Unless you're offering a lift?"

She grinned.

A minute later, Morgan Stark squealed with delight as she looked up to see the sun shining through the dark red membrane of Maggie's metal wings, as she glided down with a laughing Bucky in her arms.

Bucky settled in the dingy, Pepper laughing as she reached up to steady him, and Maggie touched down beside him, nearly overturning the whole dinghy when Artemis leaped up at her, barking. She and Bucky sank down onto the wooden-plank seats, and she furled her wings close into her back to make space.

"You two certainly know how to make an entrance," Pepper smiled, her freckled nose scrunched up in a smile under her sunhat.

"It's good to be back," Maggie smiled back, reaching over to hug her sister-in-law.

A moment later, she felt a small hand stroking down the ridge of her left wing. She turned to see her niece looking at the wings with wonder.

Beside Morgan, Bucky held Artemis in his arms like a baby, the dog wriggling with excitement to be reunited with her favorite person.

Morgan's fingers traced the edge of Maggie's wing. "Am I old enough to go flying with you yet?"

Maggie cast a quick glance at Pepper, who with a smile, shrugged. The complete trust in her face made Maggie soften. She looked back to her niece. "It's not a question of if you're old enough, Morrigan." She looked into those dark eyes, so like Tony's. "It's a question of if you're brave enough."

Morgan's eyes widened. "I am!" she insisted. "I can be a hero like you and daddy."

Maggie felt her heart crack a little, as it always did. She pulled Morgan onto her lap, making the boat rock again, and kissed the top of her sun-warmed head. "You already are, Morgan."

Morgan's arms wrapped around her neck for a moment. "I drew a picture of you like I promised, and it's way better than my Hulk drawing."

"Oh yeah?"

"Mom took a picture of it, she can show you!"

"It's hanging up on the fridge," Pepper said as she pulled out her phone, opened it, and turned the screen toward Maggie.

Maggie didn't know what she'd been expecting. She still remembered the lumpy green Hulk drawing Morgan had showed her.

But Morgan had drawn Maggie without a uniform, and without wings. She'd drawn her in black trousers and a red top, prosthetic leg and all, with squiggles of dark hair and a graphite smile. There was even a slightly blob-shaped three-legged Artemis next to her.

Maggie was struck stunned for a moment at the ordinary-ness of it.

"This is me?" she finally got out, aiming for levity.

Morgan nodded and craned her head over the screen of Pepper's phone as if to check her mom hadn't changed anything. "Yep. We're still learning about different kinds of heroes at school. And you said you'd be my hero, remember?"

Maggie stared at this childlike rendering of herself. Of a person. The lines were wobbly and the coloring-in a little outside the lines, but Maggie had never seen anything so complete.

Bucky's hand settled on her knee as he sensed the shift in her mind.

Maggie squeezed Morgan, and met Pepper's knowing eyes for a moment. "Yeah, Morgan," she whispered. "There're lots of ways to be a hero, aren't there?"

Delacroix, Louisiana

"Look who showed up!"

Maggie grinned and all but jumped into Sam's open arms as he greeted her outside the newly renovated Wilson Family Seafood. They'd got the invitation to the grand opening last week.

"It's good to see you, Cap," Maggie said, squeezing Sam a little tighter than was strictly necessary just to make him wince. He laughed, patting her on the back.

"You too, Wyvern. Welcome to the cookout."

They pulled apart and both looked back to Bucky, who was pretend-fighting with Sam's nephews AJ and Cass, keeping the store-bought cake they'd brought expertly aloft.

"Rahh!" he pretend-roared, blocking a punch with his metal hand.

"We did make a dessert," Maggie said defensively, looking around at all the delicious-looking dishes on the surrounding tables. "But I'll be completely honest, it's been a long time since Bucky and I were at home alone together, and we've been… you know, busy, and we didn't have any other food in the house, and honestly, I got so hungry I ate it. It just looked so good."

"Wow," Sam deadpanned as Bucky jogged up to them. "You ever heard of oversharing, Maggie?"

"No, what's that?"

Sam rolled his eyes and stepped forward to greet Bucky with a hug. "Good to see you, man."

"You too," Bucky smiled, and Maggie's heart warmed to see the genuine happiness on his face. They pulled apart and looked around. "Hell of a grand opening party you've thrown, Sam."

Maggie looked around. The docks were packed with people, many of them lined up to take selfies with Sam, everyone digging into the piles of freshly caught and cooked seafood, sweetcorn, burgers, salads, and desserts. Maggie spotted Sarah, looking beautiful in a loose blue blouse and gold earrings, and blew her a kiss. Sarah laughed and waved her off.

A seawind drifted over the docks, and the sun filtered warm through the clouds. Everything about this place felt so much more vivid than the real life she was used to: the smell of the sea was overpowering, and the scents of all the foods were rich and mouthwatering in the air.

"C'mon, dig in," Sam said, gesturing around. "Plenty to eat, and plenty of people to talk to."

They obeyed, sitting down to eat with the people who'd known Sam his whole life. They exclaimed over the crowd-favourite dishes, told embarrassing stories about Sam, and agreed to a few selfies - though Sam was infinitely more popular. Bucky ended up surrounded by kids, all desperate to stare at his arm, and the next time Maggie turned around they were all hanging off his outstretched arm like they weighed nothing, while he talked casually to Sarah. A local band played songs and nearly everyone ended up dancing.

As the sun began to set, a few of the locals called for a speech. Sarah and Sam ended up side by side near the shiny new sign for Wilson's Family Seafood, beaming.

"We can't thank you all enough for how much you stepped up for us," Sarah said, pressing a hand to her heart when everyone let out a cheer. She rubbed her hands together nervously. "It has been… a really tough few years, for us and for the world. I thought for so long that the only way to get through it was to accept my fate, and sacrifice this business and this legacy that I love. But thanks to all of you" - she looked around at them all, beaming, and her eyes lingered on Maggie for a heartbeat longer than the others - "and my big brother," she turned to Sam, and took his arm as he smiled at her, "we did it."

There was a round of applause.

"Don't get it twisted," Sam cut in, waving a hand, "We'd have got nowhere if she hadn't finally fixed the boat engine after I nearly broke the damn thing." Maggie laughed with the others, and when Sarah looked her way again she winked.

Sam's laughter subsided. "I don't wanna talk too long, I know y'all just want to get back to eating" - another appreciative chuckle - "but I just wanted to say… my sister is a superhero." Maggie heard a few awws as Sam looked at Sarah, his eyes serious. "She saved this business, and she managed to save me in the process too. You can thank her for all of it - for this delicious food, for the shop, for Captain America. It's all thanks to her."

There was another round of applause, warmer now, and Maggie pressed close to Bucky's side as Sam and Sarah grabbed each other for a hug in front of everyone. Sarah's eyes squeezed shut as she smiled.

"To the Wilsons!" Bucky called, raising his beer, and the whole gathered community echoed the toast, drinks raised high.

Maggie ended up at a picnic bench with a bellyful of good food and the smell of salt and smoke in her hair, her eyes closed against the fading light of the sunset. Last she'd seen Bucky he was down at the edge of the water with Sam, the two of them gazing off into the sunset, Sam's hand on Bucky's shoulder. As friends.

In that moment, Maggie felt contented. It was a feeling she'd not experienced until well into her adulthood, and she thought that made her appreciate its presence all the more, now that she felt it so regularly. She listened to the sounds of the band, further away toward the street now where the party had migrated, and the drifting ambient sounds of conversation, laughter, and the shushing waves.

She felt two presences sit at her table, but didn't open her eyes just yet.

"So what's next for you now, Maggie?" came Sam's voice, echoing her sense of contentment.

She opened her eyes. The sky was a fading yellow. She drew in a long breath and faced Sam. "What do you mean?"

"Come on," he said knowingly. "I've got Captain America, Buck's been telling me all about his plans to be of service, which he apparently got off of me, but what about you? Think we all know you're not going to live the retiree life for long."

She tapped her fingers on the wooden top of the picnic table. "I've always been good at fixing things," she said slowly. "I'm going to turn it into a job. But, of course, within regular working hours. I've got my own life, after all."

"You're going to be… a mechanic?" Sam frowned.

"Of sorts. A mechanic for problems."

"What kinds of problems?"

"All sorts." Maggie stretched. "Problems like the GRC failing to meet the needs of the people it swore to serve. Problems like the way people have been falling to pieces since the Blip, like Wanda did. Problems like the banks refusing to help the people who need it," she said significantly, and Sam's brow furrowed. "Tony said to me a couple times that it was important to realize what's yours to fix, and what isn't. I thought these problems weren't mine to fix, but I'm starting to realize that they are my responsibility. Not alone, but I can't step back. I was hoping you'd be able to help me. As Captain America, but also as that veteran's counsellor Steve met all those years ago."

"Of course," Sam agreed easily.

"You should see the work she's been putting in," Bucky said. "She's got all these binders, she's been working on developing policies with experts in displaced persons crises. Policies to integrate people, instead of removing them. Giving opportunities, rather than expectations. She keeps saying that the GRC forgot that these people who lived through the Blip became incredible problem solvers, and instead treated them as the problem."

Maggie turned to Bucky, surprised. "You really do listen to me, don't you?"

"Course I do."

Sam nodded. "This all sounds great. Radical policies, for a radical time. Yes, I'll help."

Maggie returned the nod. "But that's not all," she continued. "You know, since even before Zemo, I've been curious about this idea of… power." She looked down at her hands, and watched the lamplight play over them. "Ever since the Avengers won the Battle of New York, all of society from politicians to little kids have been talking about super powers." She smiled. "I've seen all kinds of discussions about what powers people wish they could have. Flight" - she nodded at Sam - "super strength" - she nodded at Bucky - "magic, telekinesis, cybernetic enhancements, calling down lightning from the sky…" she frowned. "I know it's going to sound silly, but for a long time I've been wondering what my power is."

Sam and Bucky listened silently.

"Because if anything, this whole GRC mess has shown me that not all problems can be fixed like I fixed that bomb. It'll take more than troubleshooting the problem and a few minutes of harebrained genius. I can't solve an international displaced persons crisis on my own, and for a long time I thought that meant it wasn't my business. But even if I can't do it alone, my resources, my genius, and my determination could shift worlds. They have shifted worlds. Maybe I've come into a new power, in my advanced age." She smiled. "Maybe my new power is to empower others. Heroes who fly around cities protecting people, but also the kinds of heroes who work in boardrooms, conventions, and underfunded offices and labs."

Sam frowned, eyeing her in the fading light. "So you'd be like… a consulting superhero?"

"That's one label for it," she shrugged. "I've got another one."

"What's that?"

She smiled. "I'm going to be the Wyvern."