It was hard to get into your fight gear with your phone held tightly to your ear, but the conversation that you were stuck in wasn't going to stop for anything, given the excitement coming from the other side. Luckily Steve was there to help, holding your shirt out so that you could slip one arm in, change the phone to the other hand, then slip in the other. Bucky had been done getting ready for your spar for almost twenty minutes now, and all you could do was to throw him a shrug and silent apology as the voice on the other end of the line continued without so much as a breath between words.

"Yes, Pepper," you sighed, "whatever he wants. I already told him that I'd do it, and I don't care if he wants me in a dress or a suit, or at this point I'll go naked for what it's worth. Just tell me what to get sized for."

Steve snickered quietly from behind you, zipping up the closure of your vest before taking a step in front of you with your gloves in his hand. "Gimme," he whispered, holding one up for you to slide into, and then the other. "Next."

"Pep, listen to me, you're freaking out. Breathe. We've got everything covered. Do you really think that I'm going to let my Dad's wedding go wrong in any way? Give me a little credit, alright?"

Steve took a step back and gave your uniform a final look, turning you around so that he could see the whole thing, realizing that there was one thing still missing. He shook his head at the continued bickering in your conversation as he turned to your bag on one of the benches and pulled it open, stopping suddenly with a look of confusion. He reached in and took out a pair of frighteningly large knives from your pack, pulling back the sheath of one to find that they were even more frightening than he had thought. The handles were ornate and colorful, and the blades were polished to a mirror-like shine as if they had yet to be used.

"What are these?"

"Uh, Pep, hold on," you stopped, pressing the palm of your hand over the mouthpiece. "I don't need those for this."

"I would hope not," Steve scoffed with wide eyes, "but what are they?"

"Wade gave them to me. He knows my affection for knives, I guess."

Now Bucky's interest had been piqued as well, seeing the reflection shine as it caught the sunlight from the windows behind him. He moved up next to Steve and carefully held out a hand, taking a knife from him to get a closer look at the details. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you could gut me with these things."

"I'm not using them."

"When would you ever?" Bucky asked in complete terror at what you could do. Now more than ever, with his concerns as to your abilities and how you could use them, seeing a weapon like this in your possession made him that much more anxious. "You should never need these, (Y/N). What are they made of?"

"Pepper, I'm gonna have to call you back," you interrupted her once again, "just tell Dad I'll call him when I'm done. I've gotta go before these two doofuses stab themselves." You closed the line and tossed your phone aside onto your bag, reaching out and taking the weapons away from each of them to slide them back into their sheaths. "These aren't for you. Knives are my thing, okay. You're going to get hurt if you keep waving them around like that."

"Sorry," they both muttered, their eyes still staying on your hands as you took the blades from them slowly and carefully.

"Okay, Buck, how do you want to do this?" you smiled, standing ready for direction. "Should we take this outside?"

"Hmm, that might be better," he nodded, "hadn't thought of that. Should we see if anyone else wants to join in?"

"Steve?"

"Ha! No thank you," he answered readily. "This is for you guys. Bucky thinks he's made you into an assassin and that you can't keep it under control, so this is for you to show him that you can. I'm gonna be honest though...I'm really interested to see what happens when you lose it."

Bucky looked at Steve as if he had just slapped him across the face, staring at his friend in utter disbelief that he would think that would be acceptable in any way. "Steve, shut up! You can't be serious! Trust me, you don't want to see that, and I highly doubt that (Y/N) wants to go there again."

"Well..." you considered quietly, "if it's in a safe environment...you could stop me if you had to."

"(Y/N), no, you're not serious," Bucky said, shooting you down immediately, "there's no way that you can think that it's a good idea. Besides, who do you think is gonna stop you? I sure as hell won't do it."

"I can," Bruce joined in almost meekly from the far side of the gym where he had been observing; he had been so silent that you hadn't even realized that he was there. "She can't hurt me."

"But you could hurt her," Bucky argued.

Steve nodded in agreement with Bucky, shooting down the idea of Banner's help before it had barely taken flight. "Yeah, I don't think that's the best idea, Bruce, but thanks for the offer. Besides, there's no real guarantee that anything's gonna happen. (Y/N), do you know what sets it off?"

You thought back to the two times that you could remember most recently, trying to find a common thread that would give you the answer, but nothing of real consideration was coming to mind. Other than your enemy being Hydra both times, there was no real link; you had fought Hydra countless times and this hadn't happened. "No, not really. All I remember is that I'm angrier than I've ever been, but I wouldn't want to steal Banner's gig."

"Thanks, kiddo."

Bucky rubbed his hand over his chin in thought, knowing that he had something that could work, but unsure if he dared to use it or not. He looked at you and Steve, watching you in a quiet conversation, considering what it would mean if you really did lose control of yourself; Steve said he wanted to know, and it was for good reason if Bucky allowed himself to entertain it. But if he did this, Steve would also see the monster that he created in you, just as he told him. He worried that his friend wouldn't look at him the same way again, but ultimately it was worth it if it meant that he could help you. "I have an idea," he finally said to the small group, "meet me outside in five minutes."

~~~

"It's been ten," Steve announced, sliding his phone back into his pocket, "maybe he got sidetracked. Where's Sam?"

"Stop it," you chuckled, nudging him with your shoulder, "maybe he's just scared of me."

"Now that I could believe."

"I should run in and check-" your voice stopped abruptly as it was cut short by Bucky's, but it wasn't the jovial tone that your friend normally carried. His voice was much deeper and ominous, colder and dark; when you turned to look at him as he stepped onto the lawn, the familiar uniform that he was wearing dropped your heart into your stomach right before it turned cold as a stone.

"Вы не можете надеяться на победу." (You can't hope to win)

"Buck," Steve gasped, instinctively pushing himself between the two of you, holding his hands out to keep the Soldier back, "this is a bad idea." He cursed under his breath that he didn't have his shield with him in the moment, feeling completely vulnerable without it.

"Move," you commanded, your tone now just as ominous as your opponent's.

Steve turned sharply at your harsh direction, feeling his heart begin to race when your voice wasn't your own. When he looked down at your face, it was exactly as Bucky and Tony had described; it wasn't you at all. "(Y/N)? Are you with me?"

You dropped your stance and pushed back, taking advantage of the fact that no one had taken your knives from you, flipping them over in your hands until you held them out in front of you and ready to strike. "I said move."

"Shit," Steve muttered, looking back towards the building and knowing that standing between you had him in over his head. Two of the most powerful people that he had fought in his lifetime had him trapped, each of them ready to go through him to get to the other if necessary. "FRIDAY, call Banner out here now."

~~~

"Yes, honey, I've put the order in with the caterer already," Tony laughed, talking to Pepper as he drove home, turning the final corner towards the driveway of the compound. "I've told you this already, I don't care what colors...you...choose...what the hell?" he stopped both his words and the car, seeing a sight before him that left him completely confused and enraged at the same time. "Pep, I've gotta go."

He pulled his car up as close as he could to the scene that left him seeing red, with the Hulk holding you to the ground under one hand and Bucky beneath the other; Steve stood a few feet away, holding pressure against a large gash in his forearm that was dripping blood on the freshly cut green grass at his feet. Sam was next to him with his guns at the ready, while Clint was standing at his opposite side with an arrow drawn in your direction. Tony hurried out of the car, opening the door before he had put it into park, leaving FRIDAY to be sure that he didn't run you all over in the mistake.

"Someone had better tell me what's going on right now."

"Hey, Tony," Steve answered shakily, his focus not leaving you, "we uh...thought we'd give something a try."

"What? Losing your goddamn minds?"

"Dad? Bruce..." you looked up at him, struggling to breathe beneath the hold that you were certain had cracked a rib or two, "hey, Big Green, mind letting up a bit?"

"You stop?"

"Promise."

The Hulk's hand slowly raised up from pressing you into the ground, but it hadn't yet shifted to release Bucky; you rolled onto your side to look at your friend, but he wouldn't meet your gaze at all. "Buck? You okay?"

He took as deep of a breath as his captor would allow, closing his eyes with a quiet groan at what his mind was doing to him and the thoughts of self-hatred that inundated it now after everything that had just happened. This experiment hadn't done anything to help; if anything it had only made it all clearer to him than it was before, and he couldn't bring himself to look at you, even when he finally gave you his only answer.

"I told you."