A/N: If you haven't tuned in since last Friday, don't forget to catch up on Part II: Chapter 26  if you haven't yet!

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Berlin, Germany

Spring 2016

Steve's jaw had clenched so tight he absently wondered if he was about to crack a tooth, inhaling slowly in a bid to keep his temper from breaking free for real, struggling to keep his cool. He'd already stumbled once, snapping at Stark, his helpless anger lashing free from his hold.

It wasn't wholly for Tony and he knew it. He knew, rationally, that Tony was just trying to play the hand that had been dealt him—all of them really—as best he could. Was he playing it in a completely different way than Steve would have or than Steve thought was right? No question. But Steve wasn't Tony, and Tony was his friend. Even if he was, to Steve's mind, either not seeing or ignoring that he was playing a dangerous game where the outcomes had a very real chance of being only 'bad' and 'worse', Steve did still trust Tony.

It was The Accords themselves he had issues with.

And people like Secretary Ross. Like Agent Everett Ross.

The Joint Counter Terrorism Centre was really quite an impressive building. It had nothing on the Compound, of course, even if it was several times larger, but Steve hadn't been able to help a sense of respect for what he saw. Not that it diminished the guilt and dread that had been sitting in his gut like a jagged lump of stone since Bucharest.

As the van carrying him, Nadine, Sam and T'Challa had pulled up into the huge, brightly lit parking bay, Steve had been hard pressed to restrain a sudden flood of apprehension. Officious looking agents had been flooding into the bay, including Sharon. For a split-second, Nadine's fear had echoed in the back of his mind, the thought that Sharon might have felt duty-bound to report what she had learned about Nadine surging forward. But the thought had quickly been shoved aside. He trusted Sharon and her convictions, and his instincts when it came to such things were rarely wrong. She wouldn't betray his trust like that and she hadn't as far as he could tell. Not that the feeling of apprehension had entirely faded at the reassurance.

But it had eased minutely as, upon opening the door, the soldier waving them out of the van didn't make any move to cuff or restrain any one of them. It was a promising development.

At least, so Steve had hoped.

Of course, the hope had been dashed.

And now he had one more potent fear weighing on him. Now he wasn't just fearing for Bucky, but Nadine too. His fears were beginning to prey on him and he knew it. It was making what T'Challa had said back in the van as they'd approached the JCTTF Command Centre all the more haunting. How long do you think you can keep your friend safe from me? It had only reinforced what he'd pegged about T'Challa's intentions back in the tunnel. T'Challa had no intention of backing off in his single-minded quest to take out his vengeance on Bucky for the death of his father. It weighed on him just as the precariousness of Nadine's situation and the bleakness of Bucky's did.

And proved prophetic, in a way, about Nadine too. It had been a harsh reminder that he hadn't been able to keep Bucky safe...that there was a very real chance that he wouldn't be able to keep Bucky safe. That he wouldn't be able to help his best friend when he needed him most...

And that he couldn't help Nadine either.

The reality of the trouble they were all in had been driven home as, stepping out of the van, he looked over to see Bucky within his containment unit, barely visible for all the over-the-top restraints and reinforced structure of the pod. It was like being shot in the gut all over again to see just how resigned and even accepting Bucky looked, watching with sightless eyes as the agents, soldiers and technicians milling around him prepared to move the unit deeper into the facility. Even the fleeting feel of slim fingers squeezing lightly on his wrist hadn't helped. The visibly haunted way Nadine had been unable to keep herself from staring at Bucky herself had seen to that.

And the gravity of the situation had been further enforced as Agent Ross had turned to Nadine after he'd informed them their gear was to be impounded. Steve couldn't forget the nearly smug quirk to the shorter man's grin, tensing once more at the memory of what he'd said to her.

"So, Ms. Ryker. Either you have a very interesting story to tell us about where you got your ammunition, or you have a rather, shall we say, ghostly secret life."

"It's not all that interesting, really," she had quipped back dryly. Steve's stomach had lurched and it was only the subtle press of Nadine's arm against his where she stood on his right that had kept him from instinctively stepping in front of her. A grin that Steve could only describe as sarcastic had tugged crookedly across the man's mouth at her response. He hadn't been phased in the slightest. Agent Ross glanced to the set of agents waiting just off to the side, jerking a nod toward Nadine.

"Take her into custody."

And Steve's blood had run cold. And it had only been a sharp, warning glance from Nadine that had stopped him from angrily protesting. Even Sam had looked furious, his fists clenching at his sides much as Steve's had. Next to Agent Ross, apology had flashed across Sharon's face, her head shaking minutely when Steve had looked to her in question as she'd pointedly stepped forward to follow Agent Ross' order before one of the other agents had; she hadn't told.

He hadn't wanted to believe it in the van when Nadine had said it was precisely what was going to happen. Even though he knew she'd been right, he'd still hoped...

But that had been nothing to what Agent Ross had piped up with next, an air of careless interest injected into his tone.

"So where's your daughter?"

She hadn't reacted save for the faintest of frown lines to appear between her brows, the perfect appearance that Nadine was only mildly perplexed by the question, finding the ties Sharon had been placing around her wrists and the way she'd kept a hand on Nadine's arm as she'd turned to stand beside Nadine far more interesting. But Steve had known better. When she answered Agent Ross with a 'sorry, who?', he had heard the barely there ice in her voice. And he could've sworn he felt her apprehension and her fury and her confusion. Or perhaps he had simply been projecting his own feelings in that moment.

They weren't supposed to know about Nina.

"Your daughter," Agent Ross had continued, oblivious to the—admittedly near imperceptible—danger signs. "You know, the assassin-in-training? The one we have record of living with you in Vienna? I'm assuming that's what she is, given her maternal role model." Nadine kept her face carefully blank, saying nothing. But Steve could imagine from the way her eyes had grown hard and sharp and utterly blank that internally her anger had been fanned to life in a blazing surge. "Were both of you planning to just, what, pretend the Accords don't apply to you?"

"Both of us? According to who," Nadine had asked coolly back, her eyes having narrowed. A huffing sound that reminded Steve of a skeptical snort had escaped Agent Ross at that.

"Forgive me, Ms. Ryker," Agent Ross had said with a patronizing cast that had put Steve's back up, "but considering what we've managed to dig up? We rather suspect your daughter should be similarly bound by the Accords. In no small part, I think, thanks to you." Steve's mouth had gone dry in that moment, the urge to step up and back the JCTTF Deputy Commander off swelling in his chest. Especially at the way Nadine's eyes had flashed with a trace of fear for a split-second before she had it tamped back down.

But not fast enough to keep Agent Ross from seeing.

"What's that supposed to mean," she'd said then, her voice icy level and laced with warning. Agent Ross had just grinned mildly. Sharon had shifted uneasily next to Nadine then, her jaw tensing minutely in a way that reminded Steve of Peggy when she thought someone around her was making a critical mistake. He'd thought little of it at the time, but now Steve couldn't help but wonder if Sharon had caught onto just how close Nadine had been to snapping.

"Nice. Playing ignorance," Agent Ross had chided, the patronizing cast having returned in full force. "You really think we wouldn't figure it out?" And Nadine had paled, her lips thinning while Steve had felt the bottom of his stomach drop clear to his shoes. Mercifully, Agent Ross had continued, and Steve had been hard pressed to restrain a sigh of relief.

"Trained the way you were?" Agent Ross had said nearly dismissively, "do you really expect us to believe you haven't been teaching her everything you know? Nina Ryker was one of the youngest black belts in Vienna in two different disciples—only the tip of the iceberg, I rather suspect. Not to mention some of our experts suspect you have a little something extra in your system making you genuinely Enhanced."

It was then that Nadine had leaned minutely against Steve, something akin to consideration flickering in her eyes that she'd quickly hidden along with her relief. Steve had only barely caught it just as he hadn't quite been able to withhold a frown as Ross had continued, only to catch onto what Nadine had obviously picked up as he did. "Something a simple blood test will confirm, I'm sure... Something that might even have given her a little boost too...if she really is you biological daughter, of course. In which case, it's not just the skill-set you most likely taught her that qualifies her." Agent Ross had smiled then, the expression such that Steve abruptly realized what had been happening.

Ross didn't know everything. In fact, it seemed he barely knew anything. Not definitively, at least. Even Steve, without the same training Nadine had, had been able to tell then that most of what Ross had was conjecture. A gamble.

Something Nadine had realized the instant Ross had elaborated on what he 'knew.' Steve had a feeling now that Agent Ross had been angling to set the foundation for a deal. Probably hoping Nadine would spill her secrets.

Well, that was unlikely to happen.

It was a small relief.

One of a precious few. Outside the conference room he was stuck in with Tony, Natasha was pacing in a deceptively mindless fashion. She was angry and she was scared and she kept sneaking subtle glances to Steve like she couldn't quite decide whether she was angry with him or not.

He rather suspected it was trending toward angry, given the how she had responded to his 'he's alive' response to her admonishment about making things worse by sharply countering with a low, dangerously calm "yeah, and my sister's locked away."

As if he'd needed any more reminding just how badly he'd screwed up.

Not that he was the only one...

His jaw clenched as he met Tony's eye. As much as he hated to admit it, he couldn't entirely fault Tony for his stance. He'd been on the verge of signing a mere moment earlier, after all. He thought they'd finally understood each other. That they were finally on the same page.

Until Tony had mentioned the Twins...specifically when he'd used the same damn allusion to weapons as Secretary Ross had about Wanda...

That was when he'd nearly lost control of his already simmering temper.

And the symbolic pen Tony had held out as a peace offering now lay where Steve had dropped it back on the table, suddenly feeling weary as everything that had happened the last couple days threatened to crash in on him.

First the Accords, then Bucky's alleged bombing and subsequent capture, Nadine's arrest and now to learn the Twins were under virtual house arrest?

It was just too much.

Dammit, why couldn't Tony just see he was making a mistake? Couldn't he see what was happening? He could see clear as day that Tony thought he was genuinely protecting Wanda by keeping her confined to the Compound—just as he was suddenly wondering with a sick feeling if, perhaps Tony hadn't already been confronted with a 'worse' option for Wanda—just as he knew—he knew—Tony was convinced going along with the Accords was the right thing to do...that he could fix them. It was noble to want to fix them, to make them work knowing their intent.

But.

Some things just couldn't be fixed. And as hard as Tony might be trying, the Accords just were shaping up to be just that: too broken to be fixed. It was why Steve knew they were wrong for all that they sounded right. And that feeling seemed to be growing stronger all the time.

It felt just like S.H.I.E.L.D. all over again...

But then, Tony hadn't been there for that.

He let out a heavy sigh, then, pausing as he turned from Tony.

As much as he wanted nothing more than to walk from the glass-walled conference room without another word, there was one more thing he needed to ask.

Especially as her face, that moment before he'd given in and kissed her, however tentatively—even knowing he shouldn't, that it would spook her...and that pursuing her before he'd had a chance to talk to Bucky risked hurting his best friend further still—when her eyes had said so much more than he suspected she'd realized...

...the horrible moment she'd realized there was no way out back in the tunnel...

...how she'd looked up at him in the sanctuary, and how vulnerable yet resolved she'd looked as she'd pulled away...

...the moment when he'd known she was going to agree to come with them to the café...

...the determined look on her face when she'd stepped into the Quinjet...

They all flashed before his mind's eye.

He owed her that much...

Without turning, he looked back over his shoulder just enough to catch Tony in his peripheral vision.

"What about Nadine?" Tony refused to look at Steve, his jaw clenched in mixed dismay and irritation. But after a moment he let out a low breath, his hand rising to pinch the bridge of his nose.

"What about her?" he asked tersely, not quite able to disguise how weary and stressed he too suddenly felt. Steve struggled against the urge to sigh as he turned, bracing his hands lightly against the back of the chair next to him.

"C'mon, Tony," he admonished, feeling just as tired of all this as Tony obviously was. How had it come to this... "You know what. Is there anything you can do to help her?" Tony shot Steve a look that was both curiously despondent and cynical.

"Unlike the rest of you—save Barnes, of course—she is actually a criminal, Rogers." He didn't bother pointing out they'd both known it, but the reminder was clear on his face regardless. "She killed people for a living...outside the law," he clarified at Steve's challenging expression. "Even if you could convince her to sign the Accords, there's no way she's walking out of here free and clear." Steve inhaled deeply, fighting back the renewed surge of guilt that rose in his chest, his gaze dropping back to the table.

"There's got to be something—" he finally grit out, only for Tony to interrupt him sharply, his already strained patience reaching its end.

"There isn't, okay? Believe me, I tried." And as irritated—furious, really—as Steve was with his friend, he couldn't help but believe him. Petty and selfish as he often projected himself to be, Tony had always been willing to do whatever it took to protect his Team...and Steve knew he counted Nadine as part of the Team, now. Tony stood, nearly glaring at Steve but for the flash of helpless frustration in his eyes. "Look, Rogers, I know your little crush is 'retired' and on our side now, but as soon as the JCTTF made the connection that she was The Ghost, all options flew right out the window." Unable to help himself, Steve finally did sigh, the sound heavy and dismayed, his head falling forward as he leaned further against the chair. He couldn't even be bothered to spare Tony an admonishing look or even an eye-roll for referring to Nadine as his crush...again; he was far too worried about her.

Though, his stomach flipped a little as the memory of her hand on his arm, her cheek beneath his fingertips and her lips ghosting against his surfaced despite the poor timing.

He'd known what the answer was going to be before he'd even asked, but he'd had to at least try. After a moment Tony sighed too. Steve tilted his head at the sound, unable to quite convince himself to look up properly.

"Look, I might be able to swing it so she can see Nina," Tony offered, his voice low and nearly drained; Steve could sympathize with the feeling intimately in that moment. "But that's—"

"You know that's not going to fly, Tony," Steve broke in softly, "she'd sooner swear she didn't have a daughter and never see Nina again then risk Nina's safety like that. Especially after Agent Ross dropped it on her that they knew about her." A sharp exhale that sounded suspiciously like a muttered curse escaped Tony. As Steve looked up, Tony was nearly shoving his tinted glasses on, his lips thin and his features drawn.

"Then there's nothing I can do," he said briskly.

And with that, Tony slipped from the conference room.

Without actively watching him, Steve nevertheless tracked Tony as he circled around to where Natasha had finally settled off the corner of the conference room closest to where Steve stood. He only looked up when he caught Tony coming to a stop next to Natasha. And he knew when he had informed Natasha of Steve's resolve not to sign.

He forced himself to look up as she turned, her face unreadable as he met her eye. No, not exactly unreadable. He just couldn't quite decipher what the expression on her face meant. It was something between disappointment, dismay, annoyance and resignation.

Though he hadn't thought it possible, when she looked away, the weight of his guilt and regret grew heavier still.

He'd never wanted any of this...but she knew he couldn't just back down.

But not for the first time, he was considering if, perhaps, maybe he should...if maybe he needed to reevaluate...

He dismissed the thought, though. He couldn't. The Accords were wrong. He got where Tony and Natasha and Rhodes and even Nadine had been coming from. Really he did. And had the call for oversight come at them in a different way, perhaps he might even have been convinced to accept it; he was a soldier, after all, and the idea of being part of a larger hierarchy was still vaguely comforting. But as they were framed? Given all the requirements and restrictions and caveats the Accords contained? Given the dangerous potential for abuse they posed? Given how quickly they'd been pushed through? How purely reactionary they were?

He'd been used before. He wasn't going to let that happen again.

He just couldn't stand down.

Out beyond the room he was closed up in, the wall of monitors were one by one being turned to the chamber where Bucky's containment unit had been stowed. It looked like they were about to start the psychological evaluation Agent Ross had mentioned; a table had been set up facing Bucky and someone Steve presumed was a psychiatrist was settling himself behind it. One screen in particular, toward the upper left of the array of blue-tinted of screens, was focused closely on Bucky. Steve's gut clenched once more, the uneasy churning from before when he'd watched the JCTTF personnel unloading the reinforced pod returning with a vengeance.

He didn't deserve this...and a sense of failure so potent it felt like yet another punch in the gut hit Steve at the blankly grim set to his best friend's face.

They'd been so close to getting him away.

Behind him, he heard the muted sound of the conference room's door swinging open on its meticulously maintained hinges...naturally it was as well oiled as the whole JCTTF headquarters seemed to be.

Steve looked back as Sam walked in followed closely by Sharon, easily picking up and decoding the questioning look on his face. Silently Steve shook his head in reply.

"Damn," the former paratrooper muttered. He took a deep, frustrated breath before looking over to Steve again. "I think we might have played this wrong, Steve." Steve sighed heavily, no longer possessing the energy to keep up the stoic front he'd attempted to maintain around Tony. He'd been thinking the same thing since the conversation in the van.

"I know, Sam. But we didn't have any better options," he said softly. It was a poor rationalization, but it was somewhat true.

"I'm not so sure of that anymore..." Sam murmured almost apologetically, his shoulders slumping as unease shadowed his face. Steve's gut tightened further. But he didn't respond. He couldn't. He needed to stand strong. Even in the face of his own doubts.

That was easier said than done as he looked up to the screens again, Nadine's bleak expression despite her calm facade as they'd taken her away fixed in his mind's eye even as he watched Bucky's equally bleak and resigned—and haunted, Steve noticed with a pang—features.

This was wrong...Steve nearly frowned at the feeling...something was off. His instincts were whispering that there was something wrong here beyond what had already happened, beyond Bucky and Nadine's imprisonments. He just couldn't quite pinpoint it. Sam pulled out one of the mesh-backed conference chairs, settling into it as a distinctly unhappy cast came over his features.

"Nina's going to be devastated," he murmured, glancing without truly seeing between Steve and Natasha where she stood, back turned to them both.

"I know," Steve replied quietly, feeling utterly dejected.

Yet another reminder of how badly he'd messed up. It didn't help that he was staring at Bucky, unable in that moment to keep from recognizing the features he shared with his daughter...they really did have the same colour eyes...and the barest hint of a cleft to their chins...and there was something about Bucky's brow that Steve believed he shared with Nina...

Sharon paused next to Sam, the papers in her hand rustling slightly as she turned to Steve.

"Nina?" Sharon asked softly, snapping Steve from his dismayed thoughts. He subtly shook his head, pulling his thoughts back to where they needed to be. He was getting distracted. He needed to figure out what was off; he couldn't fight the sense that it was crucial...

"Nadine's daughter," Sam offered just as quietly. But as soon as Sam said it he tensed, glancing to Steve as he realized his slip. Steve shot Sam a reprimanding look, frowning at the blunder, but Sam easily noticed there was no bite, taking in the way his shoulders slumped minutely. It's not like the JCTTC didn't know Nadine had a child. Sharon had been there, after all, when her boss had outright asked her about it just before Nadine had been arrested.

Nodding slightly in understanding, apology once more surfacing in her eyes, Sharon spared Steve a final look before finally handing Sam the papers she was holding.

But Steve paid it little mind, barely noticing as Sam grumbled about what they had called his gear on the receipt he'd been given, having already turned back to stare out at the wall of monitors.

He was already beginning to mull over everything that happened, analysing everything that had played out as objectively as he could. The answer was there. He'd just been so focused on getting to Bucky and then distracted by Bucky and Nadine's arrests that he hadn't taken the time to really think things through.

And before he could help himself, a faint grin quirked at his lips.

He could just picture the admonishing look Nadine would be giving him right now if she knew he had allowed himself to get so distracted when there were actual stakes involved.

With that thought to motivate him, he turned his thoughts back to the task at hand.

He only hoped he realized what he'd missed before it was too late...

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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