Peggy had not intended to miss class. But her brother was in town and she'd left her parent's house late.

Which meant.. she really didn't feel any sense of hurry. If she was already going to be marked absent then why try to get there for the last 20 minutes?

Instead she takes a detour and stops at the little cafe, grabbing a coffee and pastry. The air was still crisp and cold, the winter making New York feel more magical as it was blanketed in white.

She had about 30 minutes till ner next class. So she settled into a chair and began reading.

Bucky, who had always been relatively used to girls being interested in him simply because of his looks, was not used to these types of stares. Maybe the time away from real civilization had made it seem more of a contrast. But the outright wide eyes and whispering, pointing in their direction were almost comical. Although he's pretty sure it's more for Steve than it is him. Steve stands a foot above the average person in the crowd. His tan skin (they hadn't really been in places where winter existed until London a week ago) blonde hair and blue searching eyes were causing quite the ruckus with the females.

He and Steve were wandering campus, looking for Peggy, while also trying to surprise her. After she hadn't appeared in her first class (Steve had known her schedule but wasn't familiar with the buildings so he'd called Tony who had hacked into the system and figured it out).

But she hadn't been there. And they were running out of time. Traffic into the city from the airport had been a nightmare and their flight out was only in 2 hours. They had very little to spare now.

Steve had given up on it being a surprise and called her but she hadn't answered.

"Call Tony." Bucky offers, "Maybe he can track her phone."

Steve, looking slightly frustrated and impatient, sighs, "that will take too long."

"Longer than us wandering around a college we don't know being stared at?"

Steve frowns, "what? We aren't being stared at."

Bucky rolls his eyes, "are you blind? Every girl in a 10 foot radius has been eyeing you."

Steve looks around, genuinely disbelieving, "you're imagining things." He pulls out his phone and tries again. No answer. "It's school! Why isn't she here?"

Bucky ignores him, calling Tony.

"Still can't find her?"

"Nope. Can you track?"

"Maybe. But it will take a few minutes. It's not like I have her already tracked and set up."

Bucky snorts, "you don't?"

"You, Steve, and Clint? Yes. Nat. Yes. Peggy? No. She'd throw a stapler at me or something if she found out. Plus she's generally in New York."

Bucky nods, "makes sense. Can you try though?"

"Call you when I have a lock on her."

"Thanks."

"Hey Barnes-"

"Yeah?"

"Where you guys going next? I might be in your area."

Bucky blinks, "Really? Castle says Mediterranean."

"Eh, might be more East. But I'll drop a line when I'm close. Maybe stop in for a visit…" Then Tony does something very uncharacteristic. He second guesses himself. "If that's okay."

"Tony, if you're able to drop by, not only should you, but we'd want you to. Hell, bring new gear and even Castle will light up like a roman candle."

Tony's grinning, he can tell, "Got it. Send you in her direction when I -"

"There!" Steve calls out, pointing at the far end of campus. Bucky turns, catching Peggy's hair move along the crowd through one of the main entrances and towards a building.

Then Steve's gone, and Bucky laughs. "Cancel the tracker."

Tony huffs a laugh, "see you soon, Barnes."

Bucky takes off after Steve with a slow walk.

She's moving with purpose and confidence and he practically sprints in her direction. He doesn't care that he probably looks like an idiot. He just wants every second he can with her.

"Peggy!" he calls, close enough she should hear him. "Pegs!"

She looks up, and it takes a moment, confusion on her face. But then he's there, picking her up with ease and holding her.

"Wha-" then a gasp, "Steve!?"

He laughs, crushing her against him.

He sets her back down and leans back so he can look at her. "I'm sorry."

She rolls her eyes, "you're the best idiot I've ever met. You better kiss me right this instant."

He does.

And then she's smiling and asking him how he's there.

"I just…" he bows his head, feeling foolish. "I needed to see you. I felt so bad about-"

A warm hand covers his lips. "Steve."

He looks up to see her warm kind eyes studying his face. "I was only ever upset because I didn't understand. Then I was more upset that you thought I'd be willing to throw away this relationship-"

Guilt radiates through his chest, "No, I-"

"And-" she cuts him off, "that you somehow still managed to make it your fault."

"Peggy-"

"Doubt me again and I shall make you personally regret it."

"I didn't-"

"You did."

"I doubted myself." He admits.

Her eyes show understanding, "I know. Don't. I love you. I don't plan on ever loving anyone else besides you."

"What if you change your mind?"

She smacks his arm gently, "You still don't know a bloody thing about women." Her laughter echoes against the grand brick buildings. "Steven. I love you. Not the thought of you or the perfect version you expect of yourself. I love you. I love every version of you and I'll love you when we're old and gray and you still are somehow getting into all sorts of trouble." Her face grows serious. "Clint told me about the bounty."

He winces, "I promise I didn't mean to."

She nods, "I know." Then she shakes her head and smiles at him, "I'm just happy to see you. How are you here?"

He grabs her hand and holds it, relishing the feeling of her hand in his. "Castle approved a small layover. We don't really have much time."

"We?"

"Hey Carter."

Bucky steps up, having waited for them to greet each other and he crosses his arms with a smile.

"Barnes." She grins, "my, you two never are boring. How much time do you have?"

Steve looks at his watch, grimacing, "like 5 minutes."

She frowns, "that's it?"

Bucky huffs, "we've been looking for you for over an hour." He points to another building, "we showed up to your first class but someone wasn't there."

She blinks in surprise, "oh-" then she shakes her head, "Michael was in town! I stayed at my parents' last night and took the subway in this morning."

"We called your phone."

She pats her pocket. Then her other pocket. Then she's digging through her purse. She curses and Steve laughs. She frowns good naturedly, "I don't know where I left it."

"Well mystery solved." Bucky claps him on the shoulder. "Think we scared your last professor though, bursting into his classroom like that."

Steve winced, "he was not happy but we left quickly."

"Peggy!"

All three turn to see a brunette guy walking over. And Steve watches as he catches sight of Bucky and him and pauses, looking up at them.

Peggy sighs and she puts on a fake smile that Steve isn't used to seeing. "Hello Daniel."

Daniel

"Hey-" he stops beside them, "new students?"

Bucky snorts beside him and Steve glares at his friend before turning to the guy, "I'm Steve, nice to meet you."

"Bucky." Bucky offers, "how do you know our Pegs here?"

Steve elbows him but he just keeps smiling.

"Our Pegs?" Daniel questions.

Peggy sighs again and points at him, "This is Steve, my boyfriend of almost-" she pauses, "how long?"

"Couple of years." Steve offers. It's not quite accurate but who cares. Feels like a lifetime in a good way. "And this is my best friend. We've known Peggy since highschool."

Daniel's face shows confusion and then a sort of grim understanding. "Oh. Gotcha. Well, nice to meet you." He turns to Peggy, looking reserved, "see you in class."

She gives a tight smile, "See you."

After he walks away, Bucky laughs, "that was painful."

Peggy rolls her eyes, "come into class with me? I don't want to lose a minute."

Steve shakes his head, "no, we don't want to intrude. We'll be gone for about two months, then Castle says we should have a week break. Okay?"

Peggy nods and looks disappointed but just hugs him and kisses him instead of arguing. "Keep each other safe."

He kisses her back, "we will."

Steve walks her to her classroom door, kisses her again and then watches her as she enters the room.

"Come on," Bucky says, "we should go."

He sighs, "yeah."

—-

Natasha grimaces as she slips the ballet flat off her foot. The darkening bruise was indicative of just how hard her dance partner had landed on her foot.

It had been an accident, and he'd apologized a thousand times in English then Russian and back to English before she'd had to shoo him away.

But it was swelling.

"Ouch." Dottie says calmly, "looks painful."

Nat rolls her eyes, "it's no tea party."

"Might need to amputate."

"Ha-ha. You just want my part."

Dottie laughs, "oops. You caught me."

Natasha watches the woman walk to their small fridge and start preparing herself dinner. Dottie is the ultimate conundrum. Viciously honest and consistent. But eyes that show a depth of something darker that Natasha can understand but also makes her wary.

She's not altogether sure that the woman won't stab her in the back.

And yet it wouldn't surprise her, she'd almost be impressed. How's that for dilemmas?

"Need ice?"

She looks up in surprise at the ice pack hanging out of Dottie's hand.

"Yeah. Thanks." She takes it, wrapping a shirt around it so it's not directly on her skin and then wraps it at the joint where her big toe meets the ball of her foot.

She grimaces at the way it twinges and then leans back, melting into the couch.

"He's kind of an oaf." Dottie comments, "but man if he can't dance."

Natasha snorts. It's true. She's not the first person to get their foot stomped on by him. But he just gets so into the dance mentally he looses track of foot placement. But he makes up for it when he lifts her effortlessly and can keep up with her pace for hours.

"He likes you."

The words make her eyes flash open. "Excuse me?"

"He likes you."

She frowns, shifting the ice bag, "no he doesn't. And if he does it doesn't matter."

"Because you're dating that other boy."

The slighting baiting makes her annoyed but she doesn't retaliate. "Yes. I'm dating and plan to marry someone else."

"That serious?"

Natasha thinks of everything she and Bucky have been through. Their own relationship has been solid, it's been the outside forces that have made their relationship seem more intense. Everything with Steve, everything with her used to be parents.

"Absolutely." She responds without hesitation. There's absolutely no one else I want to marry."

"He feel the same way?"

Natasha smiles, the memory of their last kiss replaying in her mind. "100 percent."

"How do you know?"

There's not a single reason on this green earth she has to explain anything to this woman. But Dottie has challenged her one too many times.

So she pulls out her phone and swipes it open to messages, pulling up Bucky's.

And she hands it to Dottie. "Go ahead, test him."

Dottie goes wide-eyed but stares at the screen. Their last messages had been about arranging a birthday present for Yelena, nothing personal.

Dottie taps something and she hears the woosh of the sent sound.

Natasha wants to ask what she said, but she's never doubted Bucky before and she won't do it now.

She looks over to the clock. He's not as far behind her now, time zone wise. So he should be awake and able to answer.

A ding. Then a second ding.

Then maybe 30 seconds later a third.

Something reserved and pained crosses Dottie's face and she just purses her lips, handing back the phone and walking to her own room.

Natasha watches her go then looks back down to the screen.

The message Dottie sent is at the top:

How do you know I'm the one?

She's sort of surprised by the question. She'd almost expected Dottie to try something outlandish like "I'm breaking up with you" or "I cheated on you".

Bucky had sent three responses.

How could I not know?

I would have to be an idiot to not see how perfect you are.

Is this your roommate saying shit again? I swear. Tell her to fuck off. You asked Howard. He didn't pay your way. You earned it and damn straight because you're the best dancer I've ever seen. I can't wait to marry you and go to all your shows and cheer you on like it's a sports game. Don't you ever EVER doubt you're the one for me. I'll fly to Russia if I have to to make you see sense.

Natasha's heart melts at the words. Wincing slightly at him mentioning Dottie.

I love you, She texts back So much it hurts. I can't wait to see you again.

He hearts a message and then types back.

Same. Just over a month and we will have a break. Steve's going to NY but I will come to you.

She frowns, feeling guilty.

Of course I want that, but what about your parents, and Rebecca?

He doesn't respond right away and she assumes he got busy. So she adjusts the ice pack and leans back onto the couch. Closing her eyes.

—

Clint wipes at his neck.

Then again.

Then again.

But he doesn't complain. He knows Steve is positively melting, his body temp running way higher. But he wasn't complaining so Clint kept his mouth shut.

"Check in?"

Clint thumbs the button on the radio, "Barton, Rogers, and Blaze. Check."

Another voice beeps through, "Morita and Barnes. Check."

Castle affirms he heard and then it goes quiet again.

Steve is staring through high powered binoculars and Clint is holding a rifle in the same direction.

"All the crates are marked with the same serial numbers. So does that mean they're the same product or going to the same place."

Clint sighs, "we don't know yet. Castle's working on bribing a worker."

Steve looks over at him, a frown on his face, "we've been here over a month. What are we learning? They bring empty crates in, fill them with something, then ship the empty crates out. Why won't he let us follow the trucks out? Why is this a reconnaissance mission where we've gained little to no information."

Clint let's put a low whistle, "you're asking the wrong dude."

Steve rolls his eyes, "I asked Castle. He said I needed to work on my patience."

Clint snorts, "you're not exactly the patient type."

Steve tilts his head, "what's that supposed to mean?"

Clint scratches at his chin and yawns before answering. "You decided to join up with the army and then did sign up in less than 48 hours."

Steve's blond hair changes shades as he shifts under the flora above him, "that's exactly one instance. You can't say I'm impatient based off of a single instance."

"True," Clint concedes. "You just don't like wasting time."

"That I agree with," Steve responds, staring back into his binoculars.

Clint's sharp eyes notice the dry way Steve's throat swallows. "Water?"

Steve pauses, then sighs, "I'm out."

"Have some of min—"

"No," Steve cuts him off quickly. "I should have been prepared. It's hotter here than I calculated and I should have brought more myself. I won't make that mistake tomorrow."

"We have another hour. I have extra."

Clint nudges the metal bottle towards Steve and he looks at it longingly, "you sure?"

Clint laughs, "if your water needs are like your food needs then you need it way more than me."

Steve laughs and takes a decent swig. "You know," he says softly looking back through the binoculars, "I've actually been feeling less hungry. I feel like it's finally stabilizing."

"Oh yeah?"

"I think so. Yesterday instead of eating one of Howard's bars at each meal, I only ate one at breakfast and dinner. And I sort of ate it out of habit at dinner instead of need, which is good. I think I finally stopped growing."

Clint looks at Steve's body, laying in the thick almost tropical seeming underbrush. He was over 6'4" and just positively massive in every scale.

"You're relieved about that?" Clint asks.

Steve snorts quietly, "I was starting to feel like a cartoon. So I'm glad it's stopped. I can't—" he sighs and peers at Clint out of the corner of his eye, "don't tell Bucky, because he'll rib me for it. But I do notice the stares and the wide eyes and all that. Drives me nuts."

Clint grins, "I knew it!" He laughs, keeping it quiet, "someone as observant as you couldn't be that blind. So the girls at that market?"

Steve grimaces Clint laughs, "oh shit, please can I tell Barnes? He was—"

"No." Steve responds, "I shouldn't even have told you. I just—" he sounds tired. "I'm not dumb. I'm not blind. I just have an easier time pretending I am."

Before Clint can respond, his radio crackles quietly.

"Back to base. We've got a possible way in."

—-

Tony's hand paused, hearing the voices behind his dad's office door.

"I'm not sending you to babysit, Stane—"

"I don't understand why he's going at all. This is official army business. He's a child."

Tony's hackles instantly raise, but still he doesn't move to push the door open.

"He's in his 20's." His dad fires back. "And he's smarter than both of us combined. And, not to mention, it's his weapon."

"The army doesn't need a scientist talking them into circles. It's why you hired me in the first place."

"Tony's not like me. He's better at the talking part. He'll do fine. I'm not sending you to make sure he doesn't make a mistake."

"Then why are you sending me?"

"I just wanted a familiar face with those generals. I'm well aware they like dealing with someone familiar."

"So I'm there to smooth the path."

That's his cue.

"Actually you won't be going." Tony snaps, pushing through the door, "I'll be fine on my own. My weapon, my presentation. I don't need an old and tired guard dog."

"Tony—" his dad's voice is sharp but more with caution than anger.

Stand's eyes flash in anger. "Just like your dad. So sure nothing could go wrong. Ready, fire, aim, right?"

"Stane."

"He says he can handle it Howard," Stane bites out, "then fine. Let's see how he handles the true pressure of the job. Not just sitting safe in a lab."

The imposing man walks past Tony and out the door.

Tony blinks, looking at his dad's surprised expression. "Why do you put up with that asshole?"

His dad sighs, not answering. "What are you doing here Tony? You should be at school."

"Took the day off. Already turned in my project. I forgot something in the lab at home and thought I'd come grab it, and Jarvis said you'd seemed stressed."

His dad rubs at his eyes then leans back looking at Tony, studying him. He looks older than Tony's ever seen him.

"We have a problem."

—

Steve looks at the file. Three pictures stare back at him.

"One of these girls is his daughter. We don't know which one."

Blaze tilts his head, "and… we're supposed to what?"

"Get them talking. We need to know three things, one, which is the daughter and which are the decoys. Two, what her father's plans are for her, and three, what she knows about his shipping details. We're never going to figureout what's in those crates until we know where they're coming from."

"Why don't we just go in, guns blazing?" Morita asks. "Do it by force?"

Steve frowns, for Morita to be asking is a bad sign. He's not really the guns blazing type.

"Too many variables." Castle answers. "Wherever these crates go, destruction follows. We know they're weapons. But what kind? From where? Who is manufacturing them and why are they selling them to outlying terrorist groups?"

"That's a lot of unanswered questions." Logan gruffs, cigarette smoke lingering around him as he puffs on it again.

Steve glances at Clint. His fingers are very subtly resting beneath his nose. Probably blocking the smell.

Peggy had mentioned finding him in the hallway, staring at the workers smoking. Looking like all he'd wanted was to join them. She hadn't told him so he could do anything about it. Simply to be aware. And now he was.

"You mind smoking that shit when you're not in a small room?" Steve says calmly but firmly. "You're killing me here."

Logan looks at him. It's silent for a while. Logan is older than Castle. Logan's origins are relatively unknown. Steve has watched Logan snap a man's neck with little to no effort.

Steve could take him. He's sure of it. And he's pretty sure Logan knows it too.

Not that the guy likes it. Not that Steve likes the thought either. But if Clint is suffering, then he's willing to take that bet or a betaing to try to stop it.

Logan's eyes shift. Quickly to Clint and back. Instead of arguing he puts it out and leans against the wall.

Castle just continues, "alright. So I'm putting them in a pile randomly. Blaze, Barnes, Rogers you're on girl duty."

He and Bucky blanch, "what?"

Steve shakes his head, "no way, I'm not the guy for that."

Bucky is also shaking his head, "I can do something else."

Blaze eyes them like they're stupid and yanks a photo, staring at it.

Castle tilts his head, "you wanna explain? Morita needs to be in the vans for comms and I need Barton on the roof with the rifle."

Steve grimaces, "I'm not a charmer, I won't get one minute into a conversation with a girl!"

Castle rolls his eyes, "girl? What, are you fucking 11? You have a job to do, so do it. And I've seen you with Carter, you landed her-"

Steve's pen cracks in his grip, "I did not land anything! She came onto me and I still have no idea why!" Bucky snorts and he feels his throat getting tight as worry makes him riled up, "I have no idea why she went after me and I doubt I could replicate it even if I didn't value my life!"

"I'm not asking you to bed these girls." Castle snaps, "just get friendly and get them talking!"

Steve looks at Bucky, "you know me, tell him I can't!"

Bucky studies him and then looks at Castle, "Steve's not exactly Mr. Suave. Never has been. It's true Carter came after him." Then he laughs, "-for reasons unknown."

Steve gestures with his hand, "thank you!" He turns to Clint, "I'll take sniper."

Clint eyes him, "what you think Laura will be less pissed?"

Steve groans, "this isn't about that. Peggy would understand if I explained. But both of you grew up normally. You know how to talk to women and be charming. I don't. Simple as that. You put your best men forward and that isn't me!"

Castle sighs, "Barton?"

Clint glares at Steve and then his eyes flick to Logan and he sighs, "fine."

Steve feels relief flood him as Bucky and Clint pick up the two remaining photos. Punching, fighting, sniping and strategy he could handle. Trying to trick a woman into being his friend? That's a no go.

Bucky smiles at the girl, who is charmed by him. Making him a bit proud and a whole lot queasy to his stomach. Maybe he should have argued harder like Steve.

But it's been an hour or two they've been talking and still nothing personal. He'd bumped into her at a local bar and somehow managed to get her talking. Even to his mind it had seemed like a blur and a bit too easy.

But anytime he mentioned family (a made up version of his own) she wouldn't reciprocate and would change the subject instead.

Dead end Bucky texts the group under the table Decoy, I think

Same, Blaze responds.

"Do you want another drink?" The girl asks, slightly inebriated. Bucky smiles, "sure." making sure to sound like his voice is slurred a bit even though not a drop of liquor has passed his throat yet. She walks away and he texts the group again quickly, Barton?

I'd swear mine was a decoy too. But they can't all three be, right?

Castle's message beeps through right as the woman is setting the glasses back on the table.

Rogers, any marks or security catching your eye?

He keeps talking to her waiting for the buzz of Steve's response.

But minutes pass.

And it doesn't come.

Steve hears a whistle that makes him stiffen. The sound isn't the wind and it makes the skin on the back of his neck prickle. He lifts his eyes away from the binoculars and tilts his head to listen, still relying more on his right ear out of habit.

A metal clunk sounds as something drops from the sky, landing beside him on the roof.

It explodes into a cloud of dust and he flings himself back, gasping.

Burning fills his nose and eyes and throat and he coughs, gagging and spitting. It's like the gas from before but more concentrated. He grasps for the rifle, blindly reaching but his still sharp ears catch the crunching of boots and he knows this is going to end badly.

His hand had just made contact with smooth metal when something sharp stabs him in the neck.

Fear and adrenaline cause him to reach up, yanking it out, grasping too hard in the cloud of panic. Glass shatters in his grip and he chokes out a groan at the pain now arching through his palm.

Another sharp spike to his neck and he yanks it out again, hoping it's not in there long enough to fully dose him.

He kicks out, catching the legs of someone and hears them stumble. Blind adrenaline causes him to crawl forward like a rabid animal, crashing into the legs of his assailant and making them fall.

He can't understand the words but surprise and fear fill the voice.

It's a female. He can't see her but he can tell, and it sounds like she's radioing someone.

His weight holds her to the ground and he reaches, feeling until he finds her arm and scrabbling against her fighting him until he finds the radio gripped in her fist. He doesn't hesitate, crunching the radio, and her hand, all in one go, making her scream out in pain.

He claps his other hand over her mouth and muffles the sound.

She's fighting to get out from under him but he doesn't give her an inch. Using every ounce of his massive weight to pin her down against the stone rooftop.

She tries to knee him but he just lets more of his weight crush her. Instead of using his own muscles to keep her pinned, he starts to allow her to bear the full weight of his frame.

She starts struggling harder and he can sense the panic emanating from her. He spits again and desperately wants to wipe at his eyes but he knows he can let her go just yet.

She's trying to bite at his palm and a burst of annoyance has him hissing at her, "Stop that!" he bites out. But she doesn't. So instead of just covering her mouth, he grips her skull with his strong fingers, holding her jaw awkwardly so she can't bite down and for sure giving her bruises. On both sides of her face that match his finger prints.

He yanks his eyes down to his vest and tries to wipe them there, but there's not much to use.

So he takes a chance, releasing her now broken hand and uses the back of his hand to wipe the fluid leaking from his eyes.

It's instantly better and he starts to be able to see a bit.

If he was anyone else… He'd be dead.

She's glaring at him. BUt pure fear is in her eyes.

And she looks just like the other three decoys.

"Rosalia." He rasps out, throat still singing painfully. "Nice to meet you."

"I'll kill you." She spits at him.

"Seems like you already tried." He fires back.

"Who are you?" she asks, "I spent enough tranq to-"

"Why do you use decoys?" He asks, half out of his mind on adrenaline and the other half annoyed as hell. "What's the point?"

"People always stop looking after three." She grimaces, trying to free her other hand while holding her injured one stiffly to avoid moving it. Broken radio pieces litter around it.

She's still squirming underneath him as he searches his pockets for his phone, seeing the tell-tale boxes of new messages. But he can't read the screen. He calls Castle and gruff voice answers.

'Rogers? You alright?"

"Yes," it's Logan. He wonders where Castle is, "the other three are decoys. I have-"

Lightning pain shocks through him and he clenches his whole body, gasping. The phone falls from his grip and he tries to suck in a breath, but he can't.

A silent curse escapes his lips as he looks down at her now triumphant face. "You've got three minutes until that poison reaches your heart." She hisses at him. "Better start running."

Unadulterated anger floods through him and he has to take a deep breath to calm himself. It's like the forest with Clint where he had to beg the other man to convince him not to go back and slaughter all those bastards.

But Clint is nowhere to be seen. And no one knew his rooftop. They'd have to track his phone which would take a few minutes.

And he's so freaking pissed off right now.

"Listen," he grits out, his teeth clenched together to keep his voice from shaking with anger. "You've picked the wrong opponent." He was becoming more and more grateful he'd panicked and switched places with Clint. Even if it sucked like hell.

He shifts, releasing her face and grasping her neck. Tightly.

Her eyes bulge in surprise as he shifts into a seated position, dragging her with him. Her back is arched painfully as her feet are behind her and her neck is in his hands, a foot away from his face. "Tell me what I need to know, and I won't drag you back to be locked up forever."

She spits in his face and he glares at her as he wipes it off. Her uninjured hand is digging its nails into his wrist in an attempt to get him to let her go but it might as well be butterfly wings for how inconsequential it feels compared to the fire in his chest.

He takes a second to look down. The handle of something protrudes from his torso, near the bottom of his left lung. That's what's making it so difficult to breathe.

"You are dying." She hisses out, sounding more desperate than before. "Release me and I'l give you the antidote."

He snorts in annoyed humor, wincing after as the motion causes pain. "You think I'm an idiot?" You don't have it on you. That would be stupid. And second, what's the point of me releasing you?"

She looks confused, and more and more fear is creeping in. She must not be used to being the one under the pressure. "So… you can live-"

"I'm going to live anyway-" he snaps, fingers gripping her neck just a tad tighter, "no offense but you couldn't kill me if you tried. But hey-" his voice is cold and mocking, "you gave it your best shot-" He can't even recognize his own self right now. He needs to get it together. Calm down. Reel his anger back.

But then she rakes her nails across his face and decorum be damned. He yanks her up, holding her feet off the ground, and squeezing her neck too tight. She's definitely not getting air. "Stop making stupid choices-" he hisses out. "How about this, you tell me what I want to know and I don't stab you with the same poisoned blade you just stabbed me with, huh?"

Then he does something stupid that will probably cause him to have a longer healing time but he really needs this girl to understand who she's dealing with- he yanks it out of his chest. Fire slicing him as it exits, but he does not release her or drop her.

He holds it to her neck, blood and something black dripping down the blade.

She's holding his hand with her one good one, lips turning hypoxic. She nods and he sets her feet on the ground, relieving the pressure just slightly so she can get air.

Immediately she tries to kick out but he's ready for it, raising his boot and kicking forward on the leg her weight is resting on. It snaps backwards and she starts to peel out a scream before he covers her mouth.

The sink back to the gravel roof and she's weeping now, eyes crunched in pain and tears soaking in between her mouth and his hand.

Never has he inflicted such personal violence.

It makes him sick. The gas is starting to fade, his throat healing at an immeasurable rate and he huffs out a breath, "are you ready to talk? Or am I breaking your other leg too?"

"How?" She gasps out, voice pained and weak, "how?"

"Forget the how. Tell me where your father receives the shipments?"

"I'd rather die."

"You will, here, in shock from pain."

"A broken bone is nothing."

He holds up the knife, resting it against her forearm. "Were you lying? Do you have the antidote here?"

She eyes the knife, tears still falling. Matching his own but for different reasons. Hers, fear and pain, his are dripping as they heal.

"If you kill me-" she starts, "they will find you and tear your flesh from your bones."

"You say that like you're going to have the chance to speak to them again. They won't even know who it was who killed you."

"A blonde american." She bites out, "it's enough."

He laughs, full of vitriol "your father is too deep in his own debts and dealings to be worried about finding a needle in a stack of needles. He's training you as his successor. Why?"

"Everyone needs a successor-" she says with a flat voice, "my father is no different."

"Who does your father ship to?"

Her lips stay pursed.

He makes the motion like he is going to slice her arm, she clenches, fear making her react, "wait-" she gasps out, "wait.."

He's glad his bluff worked. He wouldn't actually want to slice her and get any of his blood in her veins. Who knows what would happen.

He stills the knife but doesn't remove it.

"He ships to everyone. Any one who pays."

That figures. And they don't really care too much about who gets it. That's a symptom not the problem. "But who ships to him?"

"I don't know everyone."

"Who do you know?"

"Hammer. AIM. St-"

His phone starts to ring and they both look over to it.

"Your father buys from them? He asks, "or steals?"

Her face is full of pride, "we are not thieves."

He reaches over, dragging her with him, grabbing his phone off the rooftop. He slides his bloody finger over the answer button.

"Hello?"

"Are you okay?" Bucky's voice comes through clear.

"I'm not dying."

"What the hell does that mean?"

"Decoys?"

"Taken into custody. You have the genuine?"

Steve looks at the woman glaring at her. "Yes."

"I'm guessing it wasn't a flirty conversation. Morita's tracking you now. We'll be there soon."

"Great," he responds shortly, "get here quick, she was trying to radio someone."

There's a pause and someone's shouting something in the background.

"What is it?" He asks, keeping his eyes on the woman.

"Someone is tracking us tracking you, get out of there!"

Steve doesn't need to be told twice. He shoves the phone in his pocket and stands, ready to drag her with him as he climbs down the fire escape on the opposite side when a shot rings out. She smiles and it's the last thing he sees as pain explodes through his jaw and everything goes black.