"What do you mean you've captured the Winter Soldier?"
Rigel's voice was perfectly crisp, even over the drumming of the 'copter. Fury just wasn't sure if he should believe what he was hearing.
"Trussed up like a Christmas Turkey. You can tell Widow she owes me an all expenses paid trip to Bali."
Fury eyed the mass of blinking lights in the near distance, rapidly approaching, vivid against the dark desert. Project PEGASUS was a strong breeze away from blowing up the entire facility, according to Phil's latest update, and he was beginning to consider retirement to Spain. Either that or Rigel would end up giving him an aneurysm.
"How the fuck did you find the Winter Solider?"
Rigel's low chuckle was not reassuring. "He was staking out Potter's latest haunt. No sign of Potter yet, however. The little bugger's wily, I'll give him that."
Fury was aware that a vein pulsed in his forehead when he was mad. Right now, that vein was throbbing.
"Are you sure it's him?"
"Soviet slugs, no rifling. Plus he packs a mean punch. The bastard dislocated my shoulder. I short-circuited his animated metal arm, though, so fair's fair. Sliced up his thigh, too, but that's already healed. Either the medical community have upped their game, he's a mutant, or he was drinking the same kool aid they fed Mr America."
Sometimes, Fury wished he was a teacher. Teachers didn't have to worry about assassins juiced upon super soldier serum, did they? Sure, the pay was shit, and they had to deal with snot-nosed kids, but Fury had to deal with Barton. Hardly an equal trade.
"Fury, you there?"
"It's Captain America," he said through gritted teeth. "Rigel, can you contain him for a few days?"
"Can a niffler find gold?"
"Rigel!"
"Yes, yes, he's down for the count. Maybe I'll try playing buckaroo with him while I'm staking out Potter's digs."
A holiday. In outer space. Yes, that was what Fury needed.
"Contain and wait for further instructions," Fury said. "We've got a situation on one of our sites. I'll be in touch when I can."
He hung up before Rigel could piss him off any further.
Harry Apparated into the flat he'd rented in Central London, Steve clutching his arm, and attuned to the wards.
Steve groaned in his ear. "While I'll admit it's convenient, your teleportation skills could use some work. You're lucky I have a strong stomach."
"It's Apparition," Harry responded on automatic, frowning as he examined the conflicting messages his wards were projecting. A friendly, unknown intruder, invisible to the human eye was lurking in his kitchen and an unfriendly, unknown intruder, was apparently unconscious in the bath.
He'd never had a friendly unknown register on his wards. Even the crazed fans or intrusive paparazzi had appeared as neutral or threats. Perhaps it was a quirk of this curious world he'd arrived in.
He didn't realise they had the technology to make themselves invisible, certainly not in a way that would register as such on the ward systems that he used. Strange. Very strange.
"Tea?" Harry offered, quirking a brow at Steve. Upon making eye contact, he projected a thought through Legilimency: Intruder in both the kitchen and bathroom. Get your shield.
Steve blinked, as it was a skill Harry hadn't yet exhibited to him. A scowl chased away his grimace of nausea.
"Let me just change my shirt…" he said. "I'm soaked through, you bastard."
"You started it," Harry said. He stepped into the kitchen and filled up the kettle, then, focusing on the intruder, silently incanted Stupefy!
A glowing shield of silver-white energy blocked his spell. Harry paused to see if the intruder would respond aggressively, then froze when they shimmered into view.
Sirius.
No. An imposter disguised as Sirius. A less emaciated, well-dressed, older Sirius Black, who was smirking at him. A fury welled up inside Harry that he hadn't felt since he'd defeated Voldemort, so many years ago.
With a snarl, Harry surged forward, silently petrifying the imposter and pressing the tip of the Elder Wand against their throat.
"Who are you and why have you taken that form?"
Distantly, Harry was aware that Steve was in emotional distress in the bathroom, but he was preoccupied by his own anger. Although Snape's Occlumency training had been poor, he'd eventually learned enough by himself to at least be aware if someone was intruding upon his mind, or so he thought.
"I am Sirius," the imposter rasped. "It's me, Harry. You saved me in your third year, along with your friend Hermione, on Buckbeak's back. I'm your godfather."
"I find that hard to believe," Harry said. "You see, Sirius Black is dead."
Bucky.
It wasn't that Steve couldn't believe it. It was that he didn't want to. Because if Bucky was alive, then Steve had abandoned him. Had left him. Had betrayed him.
This version of Bucky was nothing like the one he'd known. Dressed in modern armour, curled up, unconscious, imprisoned, left in a bathtub of all things.
He threw up into the toilet, still holding Bucky's mask in his hand. It snapped beneath his grasp. Then he turned to Bucky, who was bound by golden wire strings that were too strong for even him to break, and inspected the metal arm he'd gained. The red star told him that Bucky was or worked for a communist. The greasy hair and gaunt features told him that whatever Bucky was doing, he wasn't looking after himself.
How was he alive? What had happened to him? And most of all.. Why hadn't he reached out to Steve?
The sound of Natasha beating up the Russian thugs that had thought to torture her made Phil feel somewhat better about having to call her in. Glad Natasha sounded unharmed after her 'interrogation', he passed on Fury's instructions.
"But first, we need you to speak to the big guy."
"Coulson, you know Stark trusts me about as much as he can throw me."
"No, I've got Stark. You get the big guy," Phil said, then hung up. Natasha would bring in Banner. He was too moral to act without provocation and Natasha wasn't stupid enough to properly provoke him.
And now Phil had the dubious pleasure of bringing in Stark. As if he wasn't stressed enough. He got in the car provided and placed a call to JARVIS. They had what he liked to think was an amicable relationship.
"Stark Tower, may I inquire as to who is calling my direct line?" JARVIS asked as the call went through.
"JARVIS, it's me. Good to hear your voice. How are your servers?"
"At optimal functionality, thank you for asking. And how are you, Agent Coulson?"
"Let's just say I've had better days. I need to get in to see Stark. Chances?"
"Low, Agent Coulson. He has planned a romantic evening with Ms Potts."
Phil grimaced. Stark would be unbearable when he interrupted that.
"JARVIS, I'm sending you some files that should make it clear exactly why I need to see Stark. Can you help?"
What made JARVIS one of Phil's favourite contacts was that it took him milliseconds to download and process information.
"I see the problem," JARVIS acknowledged. "Sir would prefer to be made aware of such a threat, despite his plans for tonight. I'll admit you to Stark Tower when you arrive."
"Keep saving," Phil said, having settled upon it as his customary farewell for the AI.
"Keep safe," JARVIS replied.
Sirius could admit that he hadn't expected Harry to get the drop on him. He also, frankly, hadn't expected Harry to not believe that he was who he said he was. Paranoid bugger. Sirius was proud of him.
"I fell through the veil," Sirius agreed. "And arrived here. Landed in some ocean, gave myself a three day migraine when I Apparated to the Shrieking Shack, which, by the way, is just a ruin, and after several days of panicked exploration, realised this was not the world I'd left."
Harry's eyes burned with anger, the like of which Sirius had not even seen in Lily's. Fine. Harry didn't believe him? He'd make him.
"I solemnly swear—"
"Silence!"
Sirius's mouth was sealed. He sucked in a wary breath in through his nose, then attempted to project through Legilimency.
Harry, I am your godfather. I've been here for twenty years. Please tell me what I can do to prove it.
"You can't be," Harry whispered. "I'm old. Older than you are. How could you still be alive, when everyone else I loved is dead?"
Something inside Sirius clenched. Appearances could be deceiving after all. But he didn't care how old Harry was, how many lives he'd lived. All he cared was that Harry was his godson and he loved him.
Suddenly, he was able to speak. He opened his mouth, but for once, for the first time, he had no idea what he was going to say. After a pregnant pause, Harry filled the silence.
"No imposter could fake your memories of Azkaban. Share them with me and I will believe you."
Sirius shuddered. He'd shut down those memories, done his best to suppress them, and for good reason. Already, the room felt cold.
"If that is what you need, Harry," he said.
The wand was removed from this throat. Sirius made no attempt to move. Instead, he focused on the torture of Azkaban.
"You can live with us forever!" James declared, Sirius's brother in all but blood.
"What about your parents?" Sirius said, chewing on his lip.
But Mr and Mrs Potter were standing at the door to Potter Manor, wide smiles upon their face, beckoning him closer.
"We're so glad you've decided to stay with us. James is such a handful, he could do with some friends to keep him steady…"
The memories blurred and ice crept into the Potters' eyes. Their mouths moved, but no words came out, only a melancholy cry of sadness. The colour faded from the world and Sirius struggled to remember what Mr and Mrs Potter looked like, forgot the scent of the roses that grew in their garden, lost the knowledge of James's smile…
What felt like a lifetime was only a few seconds of reality.
Harry staggered back, wand clattering to the floor. Sirius surged forward, catching his godson before he could fall.
"I'm here, Harry," he said. "They're not. They're just a memory."
A Patronus burst to life from the tips of Harry's fingers, a mongoose of all creatures. It circled the room before settling on Harry's shoulder, no threat to be found.
A smile slowly crept across Harry's face as he regained himself. The wand was summoned and stowed away.
"Sirius. It's really you… I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you relive those memories." Harry jerked to his feet. "Sirius!"
Their hug felt like coming home. If Sirius cried into Harry's shoulder, then no one needed to know.