[INTENSE SCENES OF PERIL AND MENTIONS OF SUICIDE AHEAD]

WAKANDA, EAST AFRICA
2015

THE air was heavy and smelled of livestock and rust, the abandoned shipyard in which they found themselves distinguishable from shore only by the fact that its dried-up floor was a slightly darker shade of brown. The shells of long-useless freight ships titled lifelessly in the sand. Not a fleck of green blessed the landscape, not a sound to be heard aside from the shlop! their shoes gave with every step as they trudged through the mud.

"This doesn't seem like the place you'd find a stockpile of vibranium," Clint murmured.

"No," Tony agreed, "but trust me. A black market's a black market." His readings told them that Ultron was there, in a ship directly adjacent, with a man called Ulysses Klaue who June understood to be scum. Whatever. She'd kill him too if she had to.

"Are you sure we should be out in the open like this?" she asked, squinting against the blaring sun. Her back and hands were drenched in sweat and blisters formed around her wrists where the gauntlets rubbed against her skin mercilessly.

"No," Tony said hesitantly, hovering in midair for a moment, "but we've made it this far." He gestured to the nearest ship. "They're in there. Romanoff, take June and Barton and secure the perimeter." He paused, like he didn't want to go on. "And the twins, if you find them. The rest of you, with me."

"I'm goin' with June," Bucky said with a careless shrug.

"I need you with me, Barnes," Tony pleaded, his eyebrows screwing up, "we need all the muscle we can get. You're not on the same mission as her. Just this once."

Bucky was unmoved and drew up to protest more, but June touched his arm and shook her head. "Let me. I'll be all right. If not, I'm sure my room in the med-wing is already prepped."

Only Natasha laughed. The others looked at her with bleak disbelief. June shrugged them off and moved to stand by Nat, who was already pulling out her batons. "Boys get scared when you can be brave and dickless at the same time," she whispered. June smirked. She had not an ounce of energy left to coddle anyone into thinking she was okay. She wasn't. Once Wanda was dead, who knows? Things might be different. June had been a loaded gun since Carpet—finding out Wanda was the one who erased her had just switched off the safety. June was going to be reckless and deadly to her full capacity, and if she got herself killed in the process, that was her own stupid fault.

Natasha nudged June's arm in a wordless signal, and they along with Clint began to scale the side of the ship. Rust crumbled beneath June's feet and fingers as she climbed, sweating buckets, fueled by determination alone. Her hands trembled on their narrow holds for there was never more than an inch to grasp—they were essentially pinching their way up to the first deck. A more-nimble Natasha swung over the railing first and helped June and Clint a few moments later.

"That sucked," Clint hissed through his teeth, "that really sucked."

He'd forgotten his gloves.

They spread out around the first deck and scoured the perimeter for threats, finding none except what looked like a pair of hired soldiers with heavy rifles hefted on their shoulders. June took them down without a second thought and jogged back around to the start.

"Next move?" she asked, wiping blood on her pant leg.

Clint notched an arrow. "Let the others up, then get sight on the twins. Or Ultron. Whatever comes first."

Natasha had already lowered a rusting metal ladder to let Steve and Bucky up.  Tony and Thor arced gracefully over the railing, looking a shade smug; Thor gave a very pointed flourish of his cape.

"Let's get moving, then," Steve urged once he and Bucky joined them. "I don't want to wait around to see what Ultron's planning here."

"Aye, aye," Tony said and his helmet folded closed. "Stick with the plan."

And they set off. June touched Bucky's elbow in a wordless attempt to reassure him, but he offered only a worried grimace in return. The next second they were forced to part. Suddenly ruffled, June darted off with Nat and Clint into the bowels of the ship, knives out and gleaming.

They made it thirty feet before a group of armed men appeared from an adjacent hallway, unluckily for them. Between the three of them it took June, Nat, and Clint all of twenty seconds to dismantle the soldiers, leaving two as pincushions, three with their brains blown out, and two dripping red from their throats. Faltering for the first time, June wiped her daggers clean; things would only get grislier from there.

"Press on. Four-oh-clock," Natasha said in June's ear. "No sign of the twins."

"Negative," Steve's voice interjected across their comms. "Negative, we've got eyes on both. Ultron and the Maximoffs."

There was a pause. Tony's voice crackled over the comms. "Aw, junior. You're gonna break your old man's heart."

"If I have to."

June screwed up her nose in distaste, mostly to hide the anxious furrow of her brow. Ultron's voice sent waves of fear down her spine.

"Nobody has to break anything," Thor's voice rang over, calm and steady.

"Clearly," Ultron said, "you've never made an omelet."

"He beat me by one second," Tony mumbled.

"Ah, this is funny, Mr. Stark," quipped a hauntingly familiar voice. June's heart hammered. Pietro. "It's what, comfortable? Like old times?"

June wasn't sure what he was talking about, but whatever is was changed Tony's attitude like the flick of a switch. "This was never my life," he mumbled.

Steve's voice cut in. "You two can still walk away from this."

"Oh, we will," said Wanda. June would never forget that voice, so matter-of-fact and self-righteous. Fury flared in her limbs and she ached to get moving. She thought offhandedly that this was the feeling Strucker wanted to implant in her all along—a yearning to kill.

"I know you've suffered," Steve pressed on. "But—"

Ultron groaned in disgust. "Captain America," he said with insolent laughter, "God's righteous man, pretending you can live without a war." There was a pause. "I can't physically throw up in my mouth—"

"If you believe in peace, then let us keep it," Thor cut in.

"I think you're confusing peace with quiet."

"Yuh-huh," Tony mocked, "then what's the vibranium for?"

"I'm glad you asked," Ultron conceded casually, "because I wanted to take this time to explain my evil plan."

An explosion shredded the comm mics, and Natasha jumped to her feet. "We gotta go."

June sprang after her, knives out. She felt Clint close behind. They eased along the hall as sounds of a heavy brawl echoed from two floors below. They came upon a fork in the corridor, one way leading deeper into the ship and the other looking like it let out downstairs. "Split up," June whispered, already stepping lithely through the second doorway. She didn't stop to check if they'd complied, but continued alone down a rusty, narrow stairwell. She emerged, as predicted, on the floor below, the clanging of feet and whirring of Legionnaire bots closer than ever. She heard Tony's blasters fire, punches and weapons land on solid metal, and a distinct shout of pain she was sure was Bucky. June's immediate instinct was to find him, but any further action was interrupted. She was suddenly alone no longer.

Wanda stood yards from her, head tilted down, dark eyes wary and fixed on her. Her heavy brown hair was tied up in a ponytail, body clad not in a suit or uniform, but a leather jacket and stylish red dress. She did not look like a monster, she looked like a kid. It just made June all the more angry.

"Jekaterina," Wanda said, accent thick as ever. "I admit, we were surprised to hear you were still alive. We assumed you had . . . burned out."

June bristled. Burned out. Why did everyone keep saying that? Carpet had mentioned something similar—you should have burned out.

"I have a funny way of pulling through," June said evenly. "Call it a talent."

"You never had much talent back in the Underground," Wanda replied. Her fingers flexed unnaturally.

June rolled her eyes. "You're bold, kid. You forget your first month in the labs?" Every night, June heard her sobbing through the wall that separated their cells, muttering laments over her parents.

Wanda's nostrils flared. "I became stronger."

"Sure," June slit her eyes. "Much stronger. Very apt at your mind games."

Wanda went still, soundless. Her hands came up a fraction. "If you mean your parents, I—"

"I MEAN EVERYONE!" June bellowed, mad with rage. Wanda took a step back.

"I-It shouldn't have mattered," she whispered. "You weren't supposed to—"

"Well, I did," June said. "And you're done."

In two bounds, she closed the distance between them. Moving faster than she ever had before, June landed two punches to Wanda's face, felt the witch's skin give a satisfying pop! beneath her fist as blood spouted from her lip. Wanda staggered back with a surprised cry and lifted her hands to ward June back or so she thought at first, before seeing scarlet tendrils of energy snake from her fingers and shoot for her legs. Red fingers wrenched her feet from underneath her, but while on the ground June took the opportunity to kick in Wanda's unguarded kneecap, earning another rather pleasing shout of pain. Wanda's fingers danced and coaxed forth more magic, but a sweat broke out on her brow and June realized the toll using her power must take on her.

"Don't get too tired, now, I want this to be fair," June snarled.

Wanda said nothing. Did nothing. June didn't understand why until it was too late; she was quick, but Pietro was a bullet.

He came in the form of a blue and silver blur. A gust of wind and the cacophonous banging of his feet against the grate metal floor announced his arrival. All in milliseconds, he seized June, threw her to the ground, and pinned a knee to her chest; before she'd even blinked, Wanda smacked a palm onto the center of her forehead and with a pulse of energy, pierced her skull with unprecedented agony.

"I want to see," Wanda whispered.

June screamed. Mouth wide-open, a bloodcurdling sound that flayed her throat. She felt like someone was pounding an ice pick through her head.

It stopped as quickly as it began. But when June opened her eyes, she knew something was very, very wrong.

She tried to move her hand, but it was as if someone had simply relinquished her control. Her body was no longer her own. Panic swirled over her eyes and the world was lost in a hazy red blur. June couldn't even cry out.

"I'm sorry," June felt her mouth move, felt the words leave her tongue, but her brain did not formulate the thought. "I'm sorry, you're not in charge right now."

"Jekaterina," Wanda murmured, eyes blown with fascination. Her voice sounded distant, as if June was hearing it from underwater.

"Da," June heard herself say. "I think so."

The haze still veiled her vision. June felt her legs move, the ground shift, and she knew she had stood up. No, no, no.

"What did you do?" Pietro's bewildered, undulant voice came from somewhere behind June. "I thought—"

"This . . ." Wanda's mad smile grew, "is what Strucker wanted her to be. A weapon to be reckoned with."

"But she's—"

"Wait," Wanda held up a hand, "I hear voices. The soldiers."

Bricked in by her own mind, June wailed. Bucky. Steve.

"Show them," Wanda said. "Show them you."

June felt her knives slide into her hands and she knew, somehow, by some horrible turn of events, Bucky and Steve were about to die.

And it would be by her hand.

•  • •

WHY isn't she taking the shot? Bucky thought anxiously as he and Steve stumbled upon June and the twins in what seemed to be a stand-off. He looked from her unsheathed daggers to the maniacal smile on who he could only assume was Wanda's face, to the boy, Pietro's, ashen expression. Heart hammering, Bucky realized something was very off-plan, because they were both still breathing.

"June," he hissed, leveling his rifle with Wanda's forehead, "what's going on?"

"Nothing," June shrugged, her back still to him. "Just chatting."

Bucky bristled at the sound of her voice, because it wasn't her at all. Her words were layered in a cruel, icy tone that was scarily unlike her. He and Steve exchanged a glance, and the latter took a step forward. "June, we really need to—"

"It's not June," she said.

Steve blinked. "What?"

She ignored him. "Go," she waved away the Maximoffs. "I'll take care of it." Bucky felt his head begin to spin with alarm. What was she doing? Was she betraying them? Joining forces with Ultron? He fought the idea as quickly as it fell into his head—June would never do something so vile. Not in her right mind. Bucky watched Pietro shoot away in a gray-blue blur, saw Wanda limp into the shadows of the ship, until only June remained, head bent, shoulders bunched. "She could have been something amazing, you know," June murmured, turning around slowly. Bucky resisted the urge to recoil in fear; instead of their normal kaleidoscope of colors, June's eyes blazed blood red. Something was definitely wrong.

"Who could have been?" Steve asked, lifting his shield.

June rolled her eyes. "O, gospodi, they did not enhance your brains, did they? June. Your little Junebug." Another disgusted roll of her scarlet eyes. "She was made for so much more than this," she gestured to herself, then caught Bucky's eye, "than you." Non-June (because Bucky was sure this couldn't actually be her) threw Bucky a smirk. "She could have been like you, soldat. A gift."

"Who the fuck are you?" Bucky snarled. "Where's June?"

Non-June lifted an eyebrow. "Oh, this is her, lover boy, or at least what Strucker wanted her to be. I don't think we've met." Such a sultry smile was foreign to her face, and while Bucky could not deny she was still beautiful, there was a tangible aura of wrongness emitting from her. Everything was so inexplicably wrong. "You're frightened, aren't you? Of me?" Non-June raised her chin. "Good. God, she's so soft, isn't she? So fucking frail. Her little revenge trip on Wanda was the first time she's actually had any balls." Non-June paused, tilted her head, as if she heard something they did not. "She disagrees, but, come on. Playing therapist for you two doesn't require much gut."

Bucky realized with a cold wave of horror what was going on. Two Junes in one head, thanks to the witch. One was real, and the other was essentially an experiment. Not a version of June that had ever existed, but an altered state of mind that could not be achieved so many years ago. Whether or not June had ever been this person didn't exactly matter, it seemed, because she had both hands on the wheel. It was like looking at an entirely different person.

"Let her go," Bucky growled.

"No," Non-June replied in a grating sing-song tone. "She's taking the back seat, all right?" Her knives twirled. "I've got to get to work."

And quick as lightning she charged.

It was all Bucky could do to dive out of her way. Unfazed, June rounded on an unmoved Steve and buried the tip of a dagger into his shoulder before he clumsily kicked her away.

"Don't!" shouted Bucky. "It's still her body!"

Non-June cackled icily. "'It's still her body!' I love it. What is it you like so much about me, soldat? My big ol' eyes? My tragic little life? Makes yours not seem so bad, huh?" Non-June swiped at Bucky and he tried to block her, but she smashed right through his attempt and landed a furious hit to his jaw. She was stronger. Faster than Bucky'd ever seen her be. It was like this new June had tapped into some hidden reserves of sheer power.

Non-June leaped at him again, and despite knowing full well that she meant to kill him, Bucky couldn't bring himself to meet her attack. In a graceful arcing maneuver, Non-June swung her legs over his shoulders and twisted them both to the ground. His head slammed into the metal floor and immediately his vision swam, ears pounding. She landed a few feet away, but Bucky, groggy and in such multifaceted anguish he wanted to scream, watched her slither to her feet and slip over to him, hair fallen from its braid and tumbling down her shoulders. She dropped, half-kneeling, half-laying over him, face inches from his. "I see why I like you, pretty boy," she whispered. A hand moved deftly over his chest. "God, look at those eyes. And you're sensitive, aren't you? And brooding and thoughtful and tortured. You're just about any stupid girl's dream." The gloved hand came to rest on his cheek, and Bucky could not shake the fact that his body knew it was June's touch. He took her wrist.

"Stop," he croaked. "Think about what you're doing."

She gave him a look. "I have, silly. And so has she. You should hear what Junebug is thinking right now, Jesus, it's intense. You ever get sick of that? Everything is real dramatic, isn't it?"

Furious, Bucky took her by the shoulder and pushed her back onto the floor. He loomed over her. "Stop."

To his astonishment, Non-June faltered. "James?" she squeaked, searching his face. She wriggled beneath him, eyes wide and afraid and hazel. Not red.

Bucky relented immediately. "June," he gasped in overwhelming relief. "June, are you—"

She drove a knee into his groin and decked him across the face. Face smeared with hot blood, Bucky rolled away, and heard the small click of her gun's safety turning off. "Idiot," she mumbled.

The gun fired. Bucky tensed, bracing himself to die, but the bullet never hit him. It struck something hard and metal, then ricocheted off somewhere. Bucky opened his eyes. Steve stood over him, shield raised, shoulders heaving. "Get up," he said, offering a shaking hand. Bucky took it and hauled himself to his feet.

"Captain," Non-June grinned. "You know, I admire you. Takes a lot of strength to stay friends with these two, especially considering—"

"Shut up," Steve snapped, eyes panicked beneath his helmet.

Yes, Bucky thought, filled with dread. Dear God, don't say it.

Non-June just scoffed. "Why? Why not just admit it? You'd fuck her if she showed up at your door and asked. You don't think she knows that?" Steve went rigid. Bucky felt his face go red, felt anger stir in his stomach. He had some retort, some biting argument that would debunk her claim, but before he could say a word his mouth snapped shut; she was crying. Grinning evilly, but with tears sneaking down her face, down her throat. "June," she said, gesturing to the tears, "doesn't like what I'm saying. In fact, she feels so awful that she's as of now thinking of the best way to kill herself. She won't get the chance, of course, but it's probably best you know. She'd rather blow her head off than face the truth."

"Truth about what?" Bucky demanded through gritted teeth.

"That she's not worth the goddamn trouble you all go to for her. That you," she pointed at Steve, eyes red and swollen, "have never really forgiven her for lying to you. And rejecting you." She sobbed through her words now, June's agony pushing through whatever barrier Wanda had put between her and the other. It was a horrifying thing to watch, such guttural sobs interjected by sharp fits of delighted laughter. Bucky was sure his alarm was not effectively hidden on his face. "She knows, deep down, that she deserves neither of you. None of you. She's no hero, no genius, she's not a fucking Avenger, and she doesn't even have the decency to thank you for anything you—"

She stopped short. Her body gave a sudden jolt as her knees seemed to give out. June crashed to the floor, limbs thrashing, her eyes rolling back into her head. There was an arrow in her back.

"Sorry," panted a voice, and out of the shadows emerged Clint, face waxen and afraid. "I saw her attack you, figured the witch got her, too."

Bucky leaped forward, eyes on the arrow. "You shot her!"

"There's no head, big guy, it's just a taser," Clint explained quickly, holding up a hand. He flicked a button on his bow and the electricity crackled and cut off. June went still. "She'll be all right."

"If you saw us, what took you so long?" Steve asked, scowling deeply, hands curled into fists.

"I was busy taking care of the girl," Clint fired back. He waved the arrow. "Put one of these to her head."

"And the boy?"

"Ran off with her," Clint shrugged. "Took her somewhere to hide, I don't know. Don't know where they are. What did June do?"

Bucky tried to catch Steve's eye, but he refused to look up, stormy gaze nailed to the floor. Bucky did not anticipate the conversation he knew they'd have to have. He sighed. "She wasn't herself."

"Okay, but what—"

"Guys!" Tony's voice shouted over the comms. "Guys, regroup, we've got a Hulk situation, I need backup!"

"Not gonna happen," Clint said grimly. "Team's down."

"Where's Nat and Thor?" Steve asked, mouth tight.

"Witch got 'em both," Clint said. "They're out of it, completely delusional."

Steve sighed deeply, defeatedly, and pinched the bridge of his nose. After many long moments, he straightened, took up his shield, and looked coolly between Bucky and Clint. "Move out. Get the others and get back to the Quinjet. We've got to help Tony if we can."

With that, he turned and stalked back up the corridor without so much as a glance back. Clint eyed Bucky. "What the hell happened?"

Bucky winced at the memory of Non-June's words. Slowly, he crouched down beside her and lifted one of her eyelids. Hazel. Kaleidoscope. His shoulders relaxed slightly and he smeared blood out of his eye. "I don't know," he whispered. "She changed. She was . . . what she might have been with Strucker if she hadn't fought the experiments." He shivered. "She said awful things."

Clint nodded stiffly. "Let's get her out of here. That taser didn't kill her, but I doubt it tickled."

Tears in his eyes, Bucky gathered June in his arms and lifted her off the cold floor. A soft groan escaped her lips, and she frowned even in sleep. She's thinking of the best way to kill herself. Had she really? Fear reverberated through Bucky's very bones. He knew he couldn't take his eyes off her for a while.

They began the trek back to the Quinjet. Sometime along the way, June woke up. Despite Bucky's assurances that everything was all right, he realized quickly enough that she remembered everything. She cried and cried the entire way, and it wasn't long before Bucky realized he was weeping too.

note.
ive been waiting to write this forever. very intense but literary so much fun to write. im so happy to be back w this story!

comment your favorite part 🥰