Hey!
Sorry it's been so long; Christmas and New Year's always take more out of me than I'm expecting, and then I got smacked by that massive winter storm that swallowed half the country. Thankfully, I had the bulk of this one written before Christmas and was able to finish it while shivering under a small pile of blankets, so . . . yay?
This is the result of an awesome prompt from Greek_Jester:
Rogers gets back to Wakanda after breaking the Rogues out of the Raft, walks through the door, and Barnes promptly blows Maximoff's hands off. The Rogues are all pinned down and a Wakandan magic-user scans them for Maximoff's mind magic, pulling some out of all bar Rogers.
Turns out Hydra used Maximoff to try to control Barnes, so she quietly mind-whammied him so he wouldn't remember. It was discovered and removed in his medical exam while Rogers was breaking out the Rogues, so they decided to take action and see who else Maximoff was controlling.
Wilson she turned up the "Captain America is God!" blinders until he ignored common sense and his military background to follow Rogers blindly. Barton she turned into her protector and father-figure, making him ignore his hatred of mind-controllers and his family. Lang, she made him ignore his self-preservation and risk his life by going giant.
Once the mind control is gone and Barnes tells them what actually happened in Siberia and why Civil War actually happened i.e. "Protect Bucky!" the Rogues dump Rogers with various levels of physical and verbal violence, Barnes verbally shreds Rogers as a bully and Hydra sympathiser (he protected Hydra by hiding Maximoff's crimes and the Winter Soldier's crimes) and declares it's the end of the line.
Consequences are up to you, but I figure Lang would end up back in jail; the going giant wasn't his choice, but violatint his parole and leaving the country illegally was.
Barton would probably end up retired again with court-ordered therapy to deal with his mind violation trauma and subsequent anger issues. His crimes of illegal entry into Germany and terrorism would be laid at Maximoff's feet.
Wilson, again his crimes in Lagos and in Civil War would be laid at Maximoff's feet, but it's up to you whether you revisit the whole Data Dump mess. After all, there's no statute of limitations on treason.
Maximoff and Rogers? Go to town. Murder, terrorism, aiding and abetting a terrorist organisation, treason (Sokovia and the USA respectively), whatever you think will stick.
I hit most of the high points, I think, and I'm proud of this one. I had to write it from Steve's POV again, which was . . . difficult. I despise the man, and fully believe he's got strong sociopathic tendencies and a hero/narcissistic complex that rival's Napoleon, but without the inherent talent and skills — but I also think that Rogers is very . . . child-like, in a way. Not just childish, though that's also present, but he views things as simplistically as a child, only without their ability to grow and learn.
I hope that comes across in this, and it's a good, satisfying read. As always, I want to thank my all my readers and express my gratitude for the comments, bookmarks, kudos, and repeat readers; you are what make this series so much fun and I promise I'll keep writing as long as I have ideas (yes, I have another one that's actually clamoring for attention, so I should be able to start this weekend). Thank you for being awesome.
Enjoy!
Do You Believe in Magic?
When Steve Rogers came back from his triumphant excursion to the Raft to rescue his team, he was on top of the world. He had proven beyond a doubt that he was superior: he'd demonstrated the corruption of the Accords, he'd defeated HYRDA, he'd prevented the unjust persecution and murder of an innocent man, his best friend.
And he'd finally beaten Tony Stark.
Steve Rogers was on top of the world, and now everyone knew it was his rightful place.
(it never occurred to him, a man to whom technology was at best a nuisance, to wonder how, exactly, he discovered the location of the Raft, a place so shrouded in secrecy that most of the US government didn't know it existed. He also didn't think to wonder how he was able to 'borrow' the jet he'd used to get there and back. And it never crossed his mind that the reason he was able to get in and out of the Raft so quickly was because Thaddeus Ross had been expecting Tony Stark and set his trap accordingly; he'd been prepared for a technological genius wearing the Iron Man suit he'd been coveting for almost a decade, not a walking battering ram.
That was the only reason Steve succeeded and Ross' response to his own failure to anticipate turned him from a moderate, albeit persistent, pain in the ass into a bitter, ruthless enemy Steve could never imagine and didn't have a clue how to handle. In the end, despite his utter hatred for Rogers, Ross was worse, so it was Tony Stark who took the chance, reverse-engineered Ross' own trap, and ended his ever-growing threat. It was close, too close, but while letting Ross ruin Rogers would be satisfying (a little too satisfying, actually), Tony knew that letting him get that much legal, world-approved leverage would just be too dangerous)
So when he sauntered into the conference room T'Challa's guards had led him and his team to, he was expecting accolades and an offer of support to finish the job: getting the Accords officially shut down and Bucky set free and put on the Avengers team where he belonged, at Steve's shoulder as his second in command.
It therefore caught him by complete and total surprise when a bracelet was slapped on his wrist, causing an unexpected and alarming sapping of his strength and balance, followed almost instantly by a piercing scream.
Twisting to see what had happened nearly caused him to fall flat on his face, his balance was so out of whack, but Steve managed — and promptly landed on his ass, shock and panicked disbelief freezing his entire body.
Wanda was on her knees, screaming, while her hands . . . oh, God, her hands. They had been severed completely and lay on the floor some distance away. The sight was so horrifying that Steve violently threw up, completely unable to process anything but the fact that poor Wanda had just been brutally mutilated.
It took several minutes for his disbelief and appalled shock to settle, but when his brain started to work again, Steve groaned as he pushed himself to his knees, once again cursing whatever was stealing his strength. He couldn't protect his team like this!
His horrified eyes landed on Bucky standing just inside the door, a bloody sword held casually in his right hand.
Bucky?
. . . Bucky had done this?!
"Buck?" he gasped, swallowing down more bile with great difficulty and staring at his best friend, who was glaring at Wanda with so much hate, it froze Steve's blood.
No, not his best friend. This had to be the Winter Soldier. Bucky would never have done something so vile, so cruel. Which meant that Wakanda, T'Challa, had betrayed him. Who were they in league with? The Accords? HYDRA? Tony? WHO?!
"Quiet," someone hissed, sounding pissed off, and he blinked. What in God's name was going on here?!
Scott suddenly cried out in obvious pain and crumpled, eyes screwed shut as he went all the way to the floor and curled in a fetal position, his cries quieting to whimpers that weren't any better as a — a — what was that? Something that looked like the clouds of chalk that used to form when teachers erased the chalkboard rose from Scott's head, appearing vaguely red before it dissipated. Bare seconds later, Sam followed suit, the same weird reddish cloud coming from him, both of them crying piteously and rocking back and forth, hands buried in their hair from the pain of being overcome by . . . whatever this was.
Appalled and feeling a desperate urge to fix what was wrong, even though he didn't have a clue what it was, Steve took a deep breath and forced himself to his knees. His vision swam from making the effort, but once he was upright, he was able to inch his way forward enough to touch Sam's elbow.
And then Clint screamed, long and loud and so full of agony that the shock of it jolted Steve back on his ass again, and he stared in absolute disbelief as Clint Barton, one of the strongest people he knew, collapsed in a shaking, crying heap on the gleaming marble floor. Again, a cloud of . . . something . . . formed around his head, but this one was much stronger and it was an angry, deep red, the color of old blood.
That was terrifying enough to witness, but then he moaned deep in his throat and tried to claw his eyes out with his bare hands, and the shock of seeing it paralyzed Steve, who could literally do nothing but watch while several people swarmed Clint, issuing sharp commands in a language Steve didn't understand or recognize . . . but their movements were gentle and he finally realized that they were helping Clint, not hurting him, when one of the guards took a hard hit to the face and didn't blink, much less try to retaliate or do anything but take his wrist in a firm grip to keep him lashing out again. Then the mysterious cloud vanished and those awful sounds began to fade.
Other than that, they simply waited patiently for several minutes, until Steve's team had all calmed down. The screams and cries of pain tapered off and the three of them slowly sat up, aided by dangerous-looking women, who first got them sitting up and then on their feet and escorted to seats at the table in the middle of the room. Another pair of women did the same for Steve, though he was too distracted to be bothered by the fact that he was now weak enough to picked up by anyone, let alone women, and roughly walked him to a chair as well, while T'Challa regally seated himself at the head and a young woman who strongly resembled him settled herself to his right . . . and Bucky, his face expressionless but his eyes cold, took a position at her shoulder. He was clearly guarding her, which only puzzled Steve more, but a sudden pitiful whine pulled his attention to Wanda.
She was on the floor with several people standing around her — but not one of them was making any attempt to help her. They were all just . . . just staring at her, and the few expressions Steve could see were full of disgust and revulsion, which didn't make sense.
Only then did he realize that despite losing — oh, poor Wanda — losing her hands, she wasn't bleeding out. Confused, he craned his neck until he could see through a gap, only to blink when he saw a light pink haze, almost shaped like a block, surrounding both wrists.
It was a good thing he didn't see the black collar locked around her throat, bearing the miniscule but distinctive logo of Stark Industries.
"It's a magical stasis field," the woman next to T'Challa said, taking him off-guard and yanking his attention back to the table and his team.
Who, to a man, were glaring at Wanda with so much hatred, Steve could taste the acrid emotions in the air.
What in the name of heaven was going on?!
"I'm gonna kill her."
That was Clint, and it made Steve twist around to look at him so quickly, his vision started swimming. Dammit, why was he so weak?!
The glint of silver at his wrists made him blink and look down, and he finally registered the presence of bulky silver bracelets, one on each wrist. He vaguely remembered them being put on him when he'd first walked in the room, but hadn't had the chance or inclination to think about what that meant until now.
Why did these people want him weak? T'Challa had helped him! Steve had proven that Bucky was innocent of everything and shown the king that the Accords were bad, and he had in return helped Steve rescue his unfairly imprisoned team, so why was he now being treated as an enemy? Had HYDRA gotten to him?
Or had Tony?
His face darkened in a scowl at the realization that it probably was Tony, who had always been petty and cruel when he didn't get his way, but an unexpected voice broke into his angry speculation.
"The hell you are. Not before I've had a chance. You aren't the only one she's fucked with," Sam snapped, his voice so thick with fury that Steve didn't recognize it, and he blinked, stunned beyond words. What was S—
"Ditto," Scott chimed in, sounding just as furious, and Steve swiveled to look at him, stunned. He didn't know Scott very well, true, but not once in this entire affair had he gotten the impression the man was capable of that kind of anger.
Also, who were they so mad at? Sam hated unnecessary violence, so for him to be this angry was not only out of character, it was extremely alarming.
And finally, with that realization, Steve found his voice.
"What the hell is going on?"
He'd intended to be strong and commanding, as befitted Captain America, but his words came out as a question instead of a demand, his voice so hoarse it was loud whisper, and his team collectively turned to look at him.
The disgust and contempt aimed at him were scorching and Steve swallowed, even more unnerved than he was confused — and he was confused beyond belief. He had been almost completely incapacitated without warning or reason, Bucky had . . . he had cut off Wanda's hands, his entire team had been in agonizing pain for no apparent reason, and now they were all glaring at him with what looked like . . . like hatred. Steve had no clue what was going on, but he was done with that. It was time for answers and by God, he was going to get them.
"Sam?"
He went to his second in command first, as was proper.
And was flattened by eyes full of disappointment, rage, contempt . . . the overwhelming negative emotions blazing from Sam stunned his team leader and Steve flinched back, instinctively reaching for his shield in direct response to the threat his body was registering from the man who, five minutes ago, had been his strongest supporter.
"I can't help but notice that you weren't affected," Sam actually snarled. The venom dripping from his voice was frightening and Steve involuntarily pushed his chair back, trying in vain to get away from the palpable rage that was radiating from Sam — and Clint, he noticed with a poorly-hidden shiver, a direct response to a hatred he still didn't understand and words that made no sense.
"No. He wasn't," Clint added, his eyes black with bitterness. Steve swallowed hard on seeing it, more and more disquieted even as his confusion continued to mount.
"Wait. Wait just a damn minute," Scott interjected, and Steve glanced over to see him shaking his head in clear bewilderment, one hand rubbing his forehead. "What do you mean, 'he wasn't affected'?"
Clint and Sam both paused, visibly startled at the question, before Sam sighed heavily and slumped in his seat. "Of course," he murmured, nodding to himself. "You wouldn't have noticed anything odd because you don't know us and we've been fighting almost nonstop since you got to us."
Scott blinked at that, as did Steve.
"Okay?" Scott slowly said, sounding as puzzled as Steve felt, and he felt an absurd amount of relief at knowing he wasn't the only man in the dark here. Clint's bitter laugh made him flinch and since his balance was still messed up, he nearly fell out of the chair at the sudden move.
"Basically, Lang, that mind-raping bitch has been mind-controlling us for months," Clint snarled, eyes blazing with an acidic hatred that was so powerful, it soured the air. It took a minute for his meaning to sink in, but when Steve understood, he was horrified and emphatically shook his head, because that was wrong. Wanda was a good kid and she would never do something like that! She'd been manipulated and coerced and lied to by HYRDA, just like Steve, but she would never hurt anyone on purpose, and especially not like that!
However, Sam nodded instantly in agreement and Scott hummed thoughtfully, offering a soft apology to Clint that made no sense to Steve. But he didn't have the chance to respond at all before all three men were glaring furiously at him again, eyes dark, jaws clenched, and hands fisted on the table. One of the guards actually put a hand on Clint's shoulder and it wasn't until the man sank back into his seat that Steve realized he'd been getting up. Based on the violence glittering in his eyes, he would have gone after Steve, who still didn't understand what was happening or why, and his confusion was finally giving way to his own anger.
How dare his team, the people he had successfully led in saving the world from so many threats, both alien and human, not just doubt him and cast aspersions on him, but also turn so viciously on one of their own?
The reminder made him twist to look again at Wanda, who was still on the floor, with several women guarding her. Outraged, Steve opened his mouth to demand proper medical treatment when an achingly familiar but completely unexpected voice shattered the tense silence of the room.
"You know, punk, it's amazing what you can find out when you stop punching people and actually listen to them," Bucky drawled, giving Steve the disappointed look that had filled so much of his youth, before war and the serum and the Red Skull had shattered his dreams and his life. "For instance, when the doc was checking me over, he asked some questions that seemed weird to me, but I'm not a doctor, so I answered. Then a . . . sorcerer, or some kind of magical person . . . came in and asked a few more questions before running his own tests, and when that was done, he told me it was highly likely that I was under some kind of magical influence, so they asked if they could take me to a clean room and see if they were right."
Steve, completely unprepared to hear any of that, could only gawk at his best friend. His anger, which had burned so brightly just a minute ago, drowned beneath his confusion. It was an infuriatingly familiar feeling, one he suffered far too often in Tony's presence, and the reminder made him scowl. More and more, he felt sure that this . . . this . . . whatever the hell was happening . . . was Tony's doing. The Accords people didn't know where he and his team were, and HYDRA wasn't this subtle. Not that Tony was, either, as a rule, but when his ego and pettiness got out of hand, he would do anything to make himself feel better, to believe himself to be superior and get his way.
"And since they asked permission after explaining things, I agreed," Bucky continued, eyes darkening with memory. "So we went to this shielded room and in about three, four minutes, I could think again. More importantly, I started remembering things. An enhanced photographic memory was something those bastards never considered, but they gave me one. And not only do I remember every mission they sent me on, and why, I also remember the faces and some of the names, if I heard them, of the people in the room with the chair."
He stopped again and turned to Wanda. Even from the side, his seething hatred was obvious, and Steve was suddenly terrified that his best friend was about to murder a sweet, innocent girl who had done nothing wrong.
"And I remember the Scarlet Witch. She was one of the people they used to control me, to keep me compliant and my mind muddled so they could wipe it," Bucky said, his voice colder than the Siberian wind . . . and Steve froze. No, that couldn't be right. Wanda was a good kid. She'd been lied to and used, but Bucky was innocent. She would have known he was a good man, a righteous man, and refused to help HYDRA hurt him.
Oblivious to his frantic denials, Bucky kept talking. "They also used me to help train her skills in mentally subduing people and in drawing out the tiny details that most people don't know they know. And by the time they were ready to move her on to the next phase, whatever that was, she was a fucking expert in mental torture. She could influence or even outright control people to do or think anything in about three hours, and she could find any detail she was looking for, if she knew ahead of time. My entire life was an open book to her and she never once hesitated to read it when she was mind-raping me," he snarled, voice throbbing with rage, and Steve started hyperventilating.
That wasn't . . . no, it couldn't be true. It wasn't true. Wanda was his hope and his best chance for healing Bucky and getting him added to the Avengers as Steve's second. She—
"We figured out pretty quickly that she was influencing at least one of you, if not outright controlling you, but even if she wasn't, she caused so much deliberate harm to me that I . . . and you brought all of us to Wakanda. So I claimed the right of vengeance under its laws," his friend said, his voice now terrifyingly even, and the temperature in the room dropped at the palpable threat he radiated. "And once I recalled the details, it was easy: take away her hands, which are necessary for her to use her sick abilities, and add a suppression collar made by people who actually know what they're doing, and her influence ended. It was already eroding, I imagine, but the stuff they used on the Raft was third-rate government crap. On the other hand, that initial dampening kept them being hurt too much when we severed the link."
The woman sitting next to T'Challa snorted softly in amusement at that, to Steve's revulsion, and bile rose in his throat when Bucky gave her a horribly familiar carefree grin. "Pun intended," he said, and Steve's horror spiked when Clint laughed.
But he never had the chance to speak — not that he would have known what to say, other than outraged spluttering.
"Well, on behalf of us all, thank you," Sam told Bucky, looking and sounding utterly sincere. Scott and Clint nodded in agreement, looking calm for the first time, and Bucky casually nodded back.
It took all of Steve's control to keep from throwing up again.
"So . . . what now?" Scott said after a minute of silence, looking at T'Challa. The young king cleared his throat and said, "Well, to begin, we have some questions to ask you all, so can determine the extent of her influence. Zaniedia will place you under a truth spell, one that will compel answers, because what you think you know and what actually happened could well be different."
All three men glowered in response to that, but none of them objected, and once again, Steve wasn't given the chance.
The man in question, apparently some kind of sorcerer, came up to Sam first and held up a marble, which was softly glowing white but shimmered to a vibrant green when Sam hesitantly accepted it and held it carefully in his right hand. Before anyone could speak, the young woman Bucky seemed to be guarding jolted in her chair and exclaimed, "Wait! We're waiting for—"
An orange portal opening in mid-air cut her off and Steve tensed, preparing to spring to his feet and protect his team. He'd forgotten that his strength and balance (and shield) were gone, but all thoughts of battle vanished when the circle lengthened and widened to a door and a portly, Asian man dressed in weird clothes that somehow suited him perfectly stepped through from what looked like a library. Everything hung in an unnatural stillness as the man stared at the room's occupants, who were staring right back, before he took another step forward and the door-portal-thing closed behind him with a loud sucking sound that made everyone wince.
"Apologies for the noise," the newcomer said, brushing a hand over his sleeve. "My apprentice hasn't quite figured out the finer points of subtlety."
Nobody knew how to respond to that, so a minute of awkward silence ensued before the man cleared his throat, turned to T'Challa and the woman, gave a half-bow that somehow conveyed respect, and said, "Your Majesty. Your Highness."
A smile split the girl's face, to Steve's deepening confusion, and she chirped, "Please call me Shuri, Mr. Wong. And we appreciate your presence. Our magic users are highly skilled, but other than what Sergeant Barnes can share and the training videos Mr. Parker directed us to, they know nothing of how the witch's powers work. So while we know these restraints will last for a time, there is no way to determine how long, and she is dangerous."
"Indeed," the Asian man agreed, turning to give Wanda a disdainful look that made Steve clench his jaw. But he was being so completely ignored that he simply didn't know how break through the invisible wall he was trapped behind, and all he could do was watch in impotent fury as poor Wanda was bullied by people who didn't know her, and his team had apparently been brainwashed to go along with it. And Bucky had to have been turned into the Winter Soldier again, because he would never have done any of this otherwise.
While Steve had been rendered helpless and mute, unable to move or speak a word of objection!
"You may call me Wong," the sorcerer continued without looking away from Wanda, who was glaring at him with eyes so full of hate, a few sparks of red energy were trying to flicker to life around her. "None of that," he chastised, waving a hand and nodding in satisfaction when a dark blue collar materialized around her throat. The effect was instantaneous: Wanda gasped, all the color draining from her face, and went limp against the floor again as a low hum of energy that Steve hadn't noticed until that second just . . . just vanished.
That was weird; suddenly, the oppressive atmosphere was gone and the anger that the entire room was feeling faded a lot (as did Steve's memory of Wanda's injuries).
"Dude . . . that was her?" Scott rasped, his face green-tinted as he stared at Wanda with wide, appalled eyes.
Clint swallowed hard twice before he lost control of his stomach. Thankfully, the guard next to him had fast reflexes and managed to get a basin to him in time, but listening to his teammate being violently sick made Steve's own stomach churn, and Sam heaved a few times as well, though neither of them succumbed. By the time Clint had recovered and was shakily sipping on a glass of water, this . . . Wong . . . person had turned his back to Wanda and was making his way to Sam, who was somehow still holding the marble.
"That is truly repulsive," Wong remarked. His voice was steady and his face expressionless, but his were black with a soul-deep disgust that made Steve flinch, even though the emotion was directed solely at Wanda. "But it confirms HYDRA's training videos. Her . . . abilities . . . work like alcohol and override your conscious inhibitions. You aren't saying or doing anything against your will; you just had no resistance to your various thoughts and desires."
Dead silence followed this statement before Shuri spoke, her voice full of horror.
"You mean — you mean that the things these men did wasn't coerced?" she demanded, rising from her seat before T'Challa caught her wrist and firmly urged her back down. His expression was full of the same revulsion that his sister and the sorcerer so clearly felt, but Steve was just confused. This time, he managed to croak out a feeble, "What?", but it was drowned out by Clint's loud demand and no one noticed his attempt to be included, to his mingled irritation and shameful gratitude.
Wong scowled as he obliged.
"Her abilities were bestowed by the Mind stone," he began, lacing his fingers together in front of his chest and slowly beginning to pace around the table, drawing all eyes with him. "They aren't natural and certainly not abilities she was born with. The explanation behind the hows and whys is highly complex and not something that's understandable without a great deal of study. But unlike my Order, which utilizes natural abilities, hers are strictly artificial. And much like alcohol and mind-altering drugs, when she uses them on a susceptible mind, the person responds as if they were drunk or high. The longer the exposure, the more influence she has, though some minds are better protected than others," he added, almost as an afterthought.
But something about that statement made Sam frown thoughtfully, while Scott and Clint just looked sick. Steve was still confused. "But ultimately, just like when someone drinks too much," the sorcerer continued, "all she can do is force down your inhibitions. Rather like a person who loves to sing but knows they can't do so in tune; they actively avoid karaoke while sober, but if they drink enough, they will gladly get up in public and subject the entire building to their lack of talent: it's something they wish they could do, but their fear and inhibitions stop them. Apply enough artificial courage, however . . ."
He trailed off, his point made, and Steve was dismayed to see the sudden guilt that flashed across Clint's face, and then Sam's. Scott didn't reflect that particular emotion, but he still looked devastated, which made no sense.
None of this made sense, actually, and Steve was annoyed and irritated and frustrated and just plain angry. He was Captain America, so he should be the one people were explaining themselves to, dammit! Instead, he was being so thoroughly ignored and dismissed that he half-wondered if his team even knew he was still there.
"So . . . how does that translate to what happened at the airport and . . . possibly with the Accords?" T'Challa asked after a few minutes of oppressive silence. Wong sighed heavily and dropped into the nearest chair, which put him directly opposite Steve — who he still hadn't looked at or even acknowledged.
"To truly answer that, we'll need to speak with her first," Wong replied, voice full of distaste that made Steve clench his fists. "Unfortunately, that nifty little marble won't work on her, because it's meant for natural abilities. I, however, know a truth spell that will suffice, although she will have no filter. Which means you need to be prepared to get rather more information than you might want," he warned the room at large, though his eyes never left Wanda, and his obvious disgust raised Steve's hackles. He still couldn't believe that everyone was just picking on poor Wanda. She was a good kid who'd been misguided, just like Steve and Nat and even Clint, and they weren't even trying to give her a chance to defend herself!
Well, it was past time for him to speak up and demand that they start treating her with respect.
He cleared his throat, fully expecting to get the room's attention, and was thus unprepared to be utterly ignored.
"So let her speak," T'Challa intoned, giving Wanda the same nasty look as Wong and once again making Steve bristle, although this time it was overshadowed by his indignation at being ignored. It was like being in a room full of Tony Starks, and Steve simply couldn't believe how childishly they were all acting — though their behavior told him that Tony was somehow involved. He was the only one who would dare to treat Steve so disrespectfully, and as much as he hated to admit it, Steve had seen Tony's charisma too many times and knew that he could easily sway people to his side and was a master at twisting the truth.
When he didn't outright lie, that is.
"Very well," Wong answered, pulling Steve back to the present, and he frowned when the man once again cautioned, "But again, you must be prepared for what you might hear. I doubt it will be pleasant because she will not be able to lie or even prevaricate."
Despite the uncomfortable expectations this statement evoked, no one tried to object, not even Steve, who didn't realize that he'd just squandered his best chance of being heard, so Wong sighed again and made a series of weird hand motions that ended with a pale purple glow encompassing Wanda's entire body. Steve tensed to protest, not knowing what to expect, but nothing happened and he blew out a surprised breath, wasting his last chance to speak.
"What is your full legal name, date of birth, and age?"
Startled, Steve looked up sharply, trying to figure out what he was doing. What did Wanda's personal information have to do with things?
"Wanda Iryna Maximoff. February 10th, 1989. I am 27 years old," she replied, sounding a little confused, and Steve was right there with her. Why did this matter?
"Lie to me," Wong commanded and they all watched her try desperately to obey, only for the purple glow to darken so much, it was no longer see-through, and her teeth were clenched as she fought to comply. But in the end, she was unable to do so and Wong nodded, looking grimly satisfied.
"So, not a child and unable to lie," he said very pointedly, and Steve bristled again. Before he could make any kind of reply to that, Wong took a deep breath and focused his full attention on her, asking, "What specifically did you do to Clint Barton?" His voice was strong and authoritative and she didn't hesitate to answer. From the corner of his eye, Steve saw Clint flinch and hunker in on himself, and frowned. He still didn't understand what Wanda was being accused of. But he understood even less why his team was so affected by it.
In all the movies and games and books, people under a truth spell always speak in a monotone, emotionless and with no inflection, just a simple recitation of the facts.
In reality? That wasn't remotely how it worked.
And Steve Rogers and his entire team had their world utterly, totally, completely decimated.
"After Pietro was murdered, I amplified his existing guilt about neglecting his family for his work and diverted it from his children to me. He would protect me and shield me from anyone and anything. I backed off when he retired, though; he still cared about me and I maintained the link to feed those feelings, but I didn't want to move to some farm in the middle of nowhere," she explained, sounding so shockingly normal that Steve stopped trying to fight for a minute. He couldn't fight. All he could do was listen and try desperately to deny the utter wrongness of what he was hearing.
"I tried to convince him to kill Stark for me as well, but he doesn't hate him enough. He really doesn't like him," she continued, disgruntled now, and Clint moaned low in his throat, burying his hands in his hair as he hunched over the table. "Actually, he loathes him and is unbelievably jealous of his money and looks and power and intelligence. It was absurdly easy to feed those feelings, make him push Stark away and blame him for everything wrong in his life." She stopped for a second and then laughed — and it was so chilling that Steve's blood iced over for the second time in his life.
"That was so much more successful than I dreamed," she continued, sounding matter-of-fact now, and Steve's stomach churned as his cherished illusions began to crack. "And it didn't take long for the cycle to start feeding itself — but for reasons I do not understand, he doesn't actually hate him. And without those negative feelings, and without getting a direct order or being under immediate threat, he won't kill. I made him think of me like a daughter, but he wouldn't kill Stark for me because he got free stuff from him and that mattered more than he felt for me."
She whined that last sentence, sounding exactly like the child Steve had always thought her to be . . . and his stomach lurched dangerously. Still no one noticed, but this time, Steve was thankful for it. The last thing he needed was people seeing him as weak.
"And the Accords? No, wait. What led to the events at Leipzig and what happened during the fight?" T'Challa asked, his voice dark and dangerous, and Steve swallowed hard. He'd thought that the man had come to understand how bad the Accords were, how wrong, because he'd understood that Bucky was innocent but still being hunted by the corrupt governments trying to control the Avengers, so hearing him sound so angry at Wanda for doing the right thing and opposing them was an unpleasant surprise.
Naturally, he was shocked that Wanda had done something to Clint, but then, Wong had said she couldn't do anything against a person's will. So Clint had thought of her as a daughter first, and since Tony had stolen her whole family from her, even if it had been an accident, she'd needed someone to step into the role. Clint was the logical choice.
And she hadn't hurt him, so Steve could not understand why everyone else looked so appalled.
"I don't know the details. Whatever Steve decided was fine," she replied, now sounding bored, and everyone around Steve sucked in harsh breaths. "I was okay with Vision but when Clint came to get me, well . . . I hesitated because Steve protects me, but I was living off Stark without having to deal with him and I had Vis. But then he had to go and tell me that Stark wanted me to stay there and be locked up. So I had to go. Vision shouldn't have tried to stop me, especially since it was for Stark. Then I tried again to kill him, but Stark is worse than a cockroach. No matter what I hit him with, he just gets back up. And I cannot get into his mind," she seethed, clenching her jaw and glaring at nothing. "I couldn't get Clint to do it, either, because Stark and his minions were holding back and he wouldn't hurt his partner, even though she was fighting against him. Against me."
A low sound, like something from a wounded animal, came from Clint and Steve flinched, watching with wide eyes as Sam tried to put a consoling hand on his shoulder and was viciously rebuffed. Then Wanda kept going and everyone just . . . stopped.
"When I realized that Steve and the people loyal to him were confronting Stark and I could finally kill him, I pushed on my link with Clint and . . . it's hard to describe. I basically — I basically amplified his loyalty to me and to Steve and dampened everything else. He couldn't do anything but protect me and Steve."
Stunned, Steve just stared at Wanda, unable to believe what he'd just heard, how normal she sounded, even as Clint lunged for a trashcan. Thanks to the Wakandan sorcerer, whose name Steve hadn't heard, he made it, but none of them could bring themselves to watch the man grapple with his obvious anguish and horrified, guilt-fueled rage at a betrayal Steve was unable to see. Instead, they all sat in a deeply uncomfortable silence and no one even tried to meet anyone else's eyes. After several minutes of quiet, broken only by Clint's gasps and choked sobs, the girl — Shari? Shuni? Whatever — silently ordered one of the guards to take a pitcher of water to him. He glared furiously at it when the woman set it in front of him, but after just a few seconds, he picked it up with shaking hands and drained it dry, completely ignoring the offered glass. It was alarming and more than a little rude, but his hands weren't shaking when he put the container back on the table.
Then he leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest, and fixed Wanda with the unwavering stare that made him so good at his job. Any reassurance Steve might have taken from this seeming return to normal was wiped away when he glimpsed the black rage boiling in those blue eyes.
Steve was appalled at this lack of courtesy and manners, but nobody else blinked, much less seemed to mind, and he was still too busy trying to work through what he'd heard to give it any more thought.
"And Sam Wilson? Please explain what you did to him while you were at Leipzig."
She scoffed in response, making Sam frown, and said, "Nothing, really. He doesn't have any personal feelings towards me, other than what Steve says. But Steve wants to protect me, like a good leader, and Sam does whatever Steve says, so he protected me too. But I couldn't get him to kill Stark either, despite everything. He's just like Clint; he resents Stark but doesn't hate him and thinks that no one else can keep his wings in shape and upgraded. He likes living on a rich white man's dime and he likes being a hero, so I was never going to get past that. But then at the airport, I finally realized that he honestly believes that Steve is the perfect soldier and his battle plans are always perfect and his opinion actually means something, so I just ramped that up."
Stunned, Steve looked at Sam and scowled when he saw that his friend was shaking and sweating. He looked so bad that Steve tried to get up and go to him, but another wave of weakness kept him in his chair and once again, he cursed whatever was leaving him so weak and off-balance.
Wanda offered nothing else after that last sentence, so after a very tense minute, T'Challa cleared his throat and said, "What do you mean by 'ramped it up'?" and she grinned.
It was the most disturbing thing Steve had ever seen. Wanda was a good kid! Why was she confessing to things she hadn't done to cause harm?
Sam still looked horrified, but behind that was rage so deep, Steve involuntarily flinched, feeling very hurt. He just didn't understand: Sam had always been loyal to Steve, and Wanda couldn't have forced it, because he and Nat had met Sam long before they'd found Wanda.
"I mean I ramped it up," she explained, looking pleased with herself. "I made his desire to impress Steve the most important thing in his mind. He couldn't do anything else. Hurting Stark's lapdog was a plus, because Steve doesn't like him either, but protecting Steve and making him proud" — she sneered that, which just made Steve more confused and Sam more furious — "was the only thing he could actively do. And it worked. He protected Steve and that was fine, because I knew he'd never let me be taken away. I didn't think we'd get caught, but I should have expected that Stark would stoop to torturing me. Still, Steve came to get me, like I knew he would."
A beatific smile lifted her lips and Steve thought he would be sick. In all the chaos, he'd forgotten that he'd just rescued his team from the Raft, where Wanda had been collared like an — like an animal. And for what? The crime of believing in Steve and following him in doing the right thing in opposing the Accords? Wanda was a good kid and she tried so hard, but they couldn't save everyone, and she wasn't a soldier like Steve and Sam. And it was heartwarming to know that she trusted Steve to protect her.
All she'd done was help Steve's team guard his back, so they could help the people who were counting on the Avengers to keep them safe. There was no reason to target her for doing her job and watching out for her Team Leader.
No one else seemed to understand that, though, and the hostility in the room was palpable. Some of the guards were standing behind Clint and Sam, holding them firmly by the shoulders as they glared at poor Wanda with unwarranted, misplaced anger. The only person who held any responsibility here was Tony, because he was the one who needed oversight. He couldn't control himself, so he needed someone else to do it and while it should rightly have been Steve, as the head of the Avengers, Tony would never allow that. He refused to understand or accept that Steve knew best when it came to his team and how to run it, so he'd betrayed them all in an effort to outrun his guilt and shift it to people who were corrupt and couldn't be trusted.
"Indeed," Wong said softly, looking a little rattled, and then he took a deep breath through his nose and turned away from Wanda. His expression never changed, but his gaze met Steve's and he suddenly felt as though he was being judged and found wanting.
It was a look Steve had seen too many times from Tony and his people, which only made sense. This man Wong was likely here at Tony's behest, or he wouldn't be harassing poor Wanda like this, so naturally he was biased against her. And against Steve as well. Tony had never accepted Steve's position and authority as the head of the Avengers, and he had never been comfortable with Wanda, but then, he'd never accepted his responsibility in the deaths of her parents and brother. So of course, he would take any chance he could to demonize her so he could lessen his own guilt.
A heavy sigh made him look up at Wong, who had turned his attention back to Wanda. His face was still inscrutable, but something in the set of his mouth made Steve tense. But that nagging, persistent weakness kept him in his chair and it also kept him from asserting his authority and speaking in Wanda's defense, or even asking just what, exactly, was going on here.
"What did you do to Scott Lang?" Shuri asked, making him blink in surprise. What did the girl mean about Scott? He and Wanda didn't know each other at all, so that question made no sense. Wh—
"Nothing much," Wanda replied complacently, and Steve blinked, feeling bewildered. What c—
"He distrusts Stark to an unusual extreme, so I fed that and made him do anything he could to hurt Stark. He wouldn't kill him directly, because he doesn't hate him, but he could and would hurt him if given the chance. I just . . . made sure he took advantage of any opportunity. And of course, he also has a massive crush on Captain America and would do anything to impress him. So making Scott hurt Stark to stop him also impressed Steve, which was all he wanted. It was easy."
Scott gave a choked gurgle before violently gagging over the side of his chair. He was bone-white and shaking and Steve frowned. Scott, or rather his suit, had those abilities already, meaning he hadn't done anything unusual, so what was the problem? Steve had needed him to stop Tony and give Steve and Bucky time to get away, and he'd done exactly that. No one had been hurt, so what was the issue? Why was Scott reacting so badly?
"Of course," T'Challa rumbled, looking almost homicidal, and Wong blinked in surprise before sinking back in his chair and allowing the king to take the lead. "And Mr. Rogers? What did you do to him?"
Despite himself, Steve leaned closer to the table, only to reel back in horror when Wanda giggled and chirped, "Nothing. I never needed to. He was so desperate to believe me that he excused and justified everything, even my time training on the Winter Soldier, because it let him have his fantasy of another desperate kid looking for the chance to be a hero for their country, but who didn't lose his whole life in the process."
Her voice suddenly took on a sarcastic edge that made Steve cringe when she sneered, "Because somehow, losing my whole family wasn't the same as him losing his best friend and his team of Howlies and the woman he wanted because she's the only one who ever paid him attention before the serum. In his mind, my losses weren't as bad as his, but that fed into the delusion that he could make my story have the happy ending that he didn't get . . . until he finally understood that I have mind powers and then his new wish was getting Bucky back, because I could use my powers and get rid of the Winter Soldier. That made him even more determined to add me to the team and push Stark out, so that way, he'd never know the truth. That's all Steve really cares about now. He hates this time because he doesn't understand it and he doesn't want to, and he despises the fact that Stark is more important than him in the world's eyes, even though they hate him just as much as they love him. But if he can just get Bucky back, nothing else will matter. And the people will love him more when they see how important Bucky is, and how good Steve is with his best friend. They'll realize that Captain America is their savior and push everyone aside for him."
She paused to take a breath while Steve wheezed, unable to comprehend what he'd just heard. She — but he, and Bucky, and, and, but — no, this wasn't right, it couldn't be right, Wanda had to have misunderstood what they were asking her, there was no way—
"So I had to keep up the 'kid' act when he was around, because that's what he needed me to be so he could play out his dream of guiding the misguided girl who was lied to and be the big hero again, but that's it. Steve didn't need anything else to be on my side," she explained in that matter-of-fact voice that Steve loathed, because it wasn't true. It wasn't, none of it, and he couldn't stand listening to her talk like it was. This was a trick, set in motion by Tony to punish them for standing up against corruption and he would make the others see that.
He had to.
Only Wanda didn't stop. With every word she said, Steve's world cracked a little more.
"Nat did it, too; she made sure he saw a slightly-uncertain woman who needed a strong man to keep her safe, but it worked. Most of the time, he ended up doing what she wanted, he just thought it was his idea. She doesn't quite trust me, but she doesn't trust anyone, so as long I showed her what she wanted to see, I was safe. I watched her and learned to project the right personality and it worked like a dream: Steve got rid of Stark for me but kept his money and home and equipment and I could do whatever I wanted. It was perfect . . . until the world decided they needed to collar him the way Stark did me. And since Steve is incapable of being subtle, here we are." Disgust was clear in her voice and everyone blinked in response, more than a little surprised at the abrupt change in her opinion.
Oblivious to the unexpected reaction she'd caused, Wanda kept talking. "The hilarious part is that if Stark hadn't trusted him so much, Steve wouldn't have gotten away with any of it. He wouldn't have known that Barnes killed his parents and that Steve and Nat knew about it, but if he'd bothered to look, he would have known Steve was hiding something big about him. It was so incredibly obvious, but I guess he didn't want to know. And even though I tried to influence Stark so many times, I never could. His mind is as stubborn as he is," she snarled, sounding absolutely vicious suddenly, and Steve gulped, unable to reconcile the sweet, innocent kid he knew with the spiteful woman he was hearing now. "I cannot figure out how he did it, but no matter how hard I tried or what other suggestions I made, I couldn't make a dent after I sparked that vision in the bunker. He somehow discovered how to block me after that."
"WHAT?!"
That enraged roar came from Clint and Steve watched in wide-eyed astonishment as he broke free of the women holding him in place and lunged for Wanda. He got halfway around the table before they stopped his forward motion — but nothing could stop the torrent of words.
"YOU FUCKING MESSED WITH STARK'S MIND AT THE BEGINNING? YOU MADE HIM GO CRAZY AND MAKE THAT FUCKING INSANE ROBOT?! THAT WAS YOU?!"
Completely unruffled, Wanda said, "Of course. Pietro wanted to kill him, but I wanted him to suffer. So I touched the fear that was foremost in his thoughts and made it stronger. I had no idea the idiot would try to destroy the world, though I should have. He destroys everything he touches," she hissed petulantly, while Steve reeled back in frantic denial.
No. No, it wasn't true. Tony had made ULTRON because he was arrogant and egotistical and kept secrets because he knew he couldn't be trusted. Wanda hadn't done it, she hadn't done anything to make Tony do something stupid. It wasn't possible, no matter what evidence he'd tried to show Steve that something had messed with his mind, because Tony always deflected blame and denied guilt. And he'd resented Wanda from the start, because she was a better person than Tony could ever dream of becoming.
He'd fallen so far, he was making her say these things now. They had no proof that this supposed sorcerer had cast a truth spell, if there was such a thing. But Tony had a vested interest in making Wanda look bad, and he'd proven many times that he had no qualms and no morals about getting what he wanted.
"Hold on," Scott whispered, his voice shattering the deadly silence that was smothering the room. "Did you just say that Barnes killed Stark's parents and Steve knew . . . and didn't tell him?"
It sounded really bad, but Scott didn't have all the details and Steve cleared his throat, trying to figure out the best way to explain things. Once again, he never got the chance.
"Not quite," Bucky replied, sounding . . . guilty? That didn't make sense. It wasn't him, it was HYDRA. "It was my hands, yes, but I did it as the Winter Soldier and under HYDRA's orders. But Stark . . . God, I'll never forgive myself. The look on his face . . . and I was too out of it and too afraid of myself to think anything through, much less pull back. He punched Steve and I reacted on instinct. It was just for the wrong person. Even Pierce wouldn't have done what Steve did to Stark."
Before Steve could even begin to process that, T'Challa came to his feet in a sharp movement, his face grim.
"Enough," he commanded, nodding when Bucky instantly fell silent, and Steve almost choked on his relief. "We're done for now. I—"
"No way!" Scott cried, looking mutinous, with Sam and Clint nodding vigorously. He didn't back down at the foreboding look the king gave him, which earned him an appraising look from the girl, instead barreling forward. "We deserve to know the truth about what happened and why a—"
"Yes, you do," the other man replied calmly, holding out both hands in a calming manner when all three members of Steve's team bristled in response to the 'but' that was so clearly coming. "But not here or now. That's a different discussion and it needs to be had when everyone has had a chance to rest and clean up and calm down a bit. Including me," he said in direct response to Clint's soft, frustrated growl. "I shouldn't have allowed this to go as far as it did, but we needed to determine some things that only she could tell us."
His contempt was palpable and Steve scowled, once again reminded that Wanda was the victim here, and still being treated like a criminal. And what was Bucky thinking, taking responsibility for the things the Winter Soldier had done? It wasn't his fault, and Steve had gone to extraordinary lengths to prove that and show the world that Bucky was innocent and couldn't be punished for crimes he hadn't committed, the way the corrupt Accords governments wanted. Everything Steve had done had been to keep Bucky free and safe and at his side, and Buck knew that! So for him to risk that . . . well, clearly he was under some kind of mind control or had been triggered back into the Winter Soldier, either by T'Challa or Tony.
Probably Tony. He was angry and petty and lashing out like he always did, and what better way to hurt Steve than take his best friend away again? Of course, this was extreme even for Tony, but he hated being wrong. He'd already proved that he would destroy the world before he'd admit it, and since he'd lost the fight he'd forced Steve into, this was the only way he could win: by turning Bucky against Steve and claiming fake responsibility. There was no other explanation for what Bucky had said and done.
There wasn't.
Oblivious to Steve's realizations, T'Challa kept speaking. "I should have done this questioning privately, but once we realized just how deeply she'd gotten her claws into you, we needed to ascertain the damage. And it wouldn't have been right to keep two of you in the dark. But all future interrogations will be done properly and legally. Ah!" he warned when Clint looked perilously close to exploding. "You will have the chance to ask questions. I guarantee that for all of you. But you — we — will have to wait until we get word about how the UN and the Accords Council wants to proceed. Until then, I ask that you accompany my people to your quarters and remain there until we do hear back. It shouldn't take longer than three or four days," he placated them on seeing the three unhappy scowls that formed in response.
Steve, however, was horrified. The UN? The Accords? T'Challa wanted to turn them over to the very corrupt governments that Steve had already exposed?
Betrayed.
He had been betrayed by everyone he'd ever trusted, people he had risked everything to save and protect.
Fury burned hot and molten in his blood and Steve lunged to his feet, his mind empty of everything but the desire for vengeance.
The world would regret turning against Captain America. He had fought and bled and given his entire life for people who had used him, deceived him, and hurt him, and now that his usefulness to them was gone, they were going to throw him to the wolves?
Well, Steve wasn't going to allow that. He was going to show them all that his hands were the safest. His whole life, everything he'd done, he'd done to protect them all, and he deserved their respect and admiration and trust.
His second step caused a massive pull that made him stumble into the table as his vision went cloudy.
And instead of hearing Bucky soothing him or trying to bring him back from the encroaching darkness, all Steve heard was his own rattling breaths and all he felt was the hard, unforgiving tile he was lying on for some reason.
His dreams were haunted by the absence of warmth.
When he finally came mostly back to himself, though without his shield or his strength, the world had changed forever.
Sam, Clint, and Scott had all been tried, convicted, and sentenced for crimes that Steve would never understand. They had been absolved of their actions at Leipzig, given the fact that Wanda had manipulated all of them and eliminated their ability to use their own free will, but Scott had still violated his parole and the world's governments, once again proving they were corrupted, had decreed that Sam and Clint had broken other laws in multiple countries and gone after both men with a vicious intensity that only confirmed Steve's conviction that governments and their agencies couldn't be trusted. They punished his team for what happened in Lagos, Bucharest, Berlin, DC . . . because they didn't understand that you couldn't save everyone. But you still had to try, even when bad choices were the only options available.
Corruption was rampant among the people in charge of their show trials, though, and so Steve wasn't surprised when no one was willing to listen to reason or make any kind of allowance for their efforts to help, to fix things, to protect people. He was appalled at how little empathy they were shown, but what utterly bewildered him was the lack of protest Sam, Clint, and Scott put up. Not a single one of them offered even a token argument against the charges, nor did they object to the unnecessarily harsh sentences.
Steve just couldn't understand it. They'd been protecting people, stopping HYDRA, rescuing Bucky, opposing corruption . . . everything they'd done was for good, but they were all being punished like they were the same criminals they'd fought so hard to capture and bring to justice!
Wanda's trial was horrendous. They accused the poor girl of war crimes, crimes against humanity, attempted murder, theft, property damage, mental manipulation, mental assault, participating in slavery . . . he didn't even know what half of the charges meant, so there was no way Wanda did. But they put her back in that awful collar, with matching bands circling the stumps of her wrists. Steve's anger flared at the sight of her handless arms, and he again mentally raged at the fact all of his demands to see both Wanda and Bucky had been refused. He still didn't know why his friend had done that to Wanda, or why he didn't try to get back to Steve's side once he realized that his 'punk' couldn't come to him.
He refused to hear that Bucky had been given the option of seeing and speaking to Steve several times — and had immediately, firmly, with no doubt at all, refused. Not only did he not want to see what his old friend had become, he knew it would do no good. Regardless of his size, Steve Rogers was a stubborn punk who literally could not understand when he was wrong. Thus, there was no reason for him to try explaining where he'd screwed up and why, much less unload his anger. It would either fall on deaf ears or get turned into Bucky somehow being coerced against his will.
Having no desire to brain himself against a brick wall, James 'Bucky' Barnes simply walked away from Steve Rogers and never looked back.
Wanda, though . . . under a truth spell, she talked.
And talked.
And talked.
Steve never would get a satisfactory answer to any of his questions, especially after Wanda was condemned to death and executed twelve hours later, in the neutral country of Switzerland.
His own trial started an hour after her death was verified. Naturally, he wasn't absolved of anything, and if that weren't bad enough, he was accused of crimes that weren't real. He'd never tried to kill Tony, and neither had Thor. He certainly hadn't encouraged his alien teammate to hurt Tony, but he couldn't deny that Thor's anger was justified, and his reaction was perfectly reasonable, especially given his warrior upbringing. And Wanda had been right when she warned him that Tony was making another murderbot. It wasn't Steve's fault that the man had refused to stop and step aside and let someone more qualified handle things. Steve had been forced to physically stop Tony.
Siberia . . . Tony had been trying to kill Bucky, who was innocent. Steve had told him to stop and he hadn't, so again, Captain America had no choice but to put Iron Man down. It was unfortunate, truly, but Tony should have stopped. Steve had been right about the Accords, he'd been right about Ross, but Tony's ego wouldn't let him admit that, and while learning the truth of his parents' deaths had been ugly, it didn't justify taking his misplaced anger out on Bucky. He was innocent and Tony should have known that.
As for their absurd claims of treason, he just scoffed. He'd had to stop HYDRA and there hadn't been another way. Sure, Tony probably could have separated SHIELD from HYDRA, but it was Steve's mission and HYDRA had been his responsibility from the beginning. He wasn't about to let anyone, especially Tony Stark, take that away from him. And, given that Tony had created ULTRON, it was obviously for the best that Steve hadn't called him to help with the helicarriers, either. God only knew what damage the man would have done while showboating and making sure everyone knew he was the one who'd stopped HYDRA and saved the world.
But the corruption of the Accords had spread and infected everything, so everything good he and his team had done to help, to fix things and protect people, was twisted to make them appear to be criminals instead of heroes. He wasn't remotely surprised at Tony's testimony, or James Rhodes', and he'd never quite trusted Vision, but he didn't know who Helen Cho was, and they brought in several people who were supposedly from Bucharest and Lagos. Pepper Potts, however, was unexpected, mostly because he didn't understand why she was there. She was Tony's secretary, his Girl Friday . . . and besides, she and Tony broke up every few weeks, so it wasn't like she had true, deep feelings for the man, not the way Steve did for Peggy. He couldn't begin to see why she hated him so much, but oh, she did.
And she spared him nothing. Videos, audio files, medical records . . . she had an abundance of so-called evidence that made Steve look bad, but it was all taken out of context. Naturally, his objections were ignored, and he gritted his teeth. It didn't matter. He was Captain America. He was the personification of Truth and Right, and he would prevail. They could tell all the lies they wanted, but eventually, their house of cards would fall.
And Steve would be standing tall and proud and waiting when it did.
Lost in his own reality, he never processed the death sentence he received, both for treason and for international terrorism. He didn't know that the legend of Captain America would be destroyed in a week and reduced to a cautionary myth within a year.
Steve Rogers ceased to exist on September 17, 2017.
The world took a deep, cleaning breath.
And felt that much safer.
~~~
fin