Over Eastern Europe

Spring 2016

With Bucky's help, not long after Steve had engaged the Quinjet's stealth mode and he was sure they weren't being followed, Steve had finally been able to program a more precise destination into the navigation system. Meaning all he had left to do was stay the course it set.

Unfortunately, that also meant he suddenly had far less to occupy his thoughts.

Thoughts that were far too conflicted for comfort. But then—to quote Lang—what else was new.

They had made it past Tony and his team and were well on their way to Siberia.

Yet it felt a small victory. A hollow victory.

And it was why the Quinjet felt so quiet.

Neither he, Bucky nor Nadine felt anything but the weight of what they'd flown away from in Leipzig. Both because of everything that had happened, and because of who they'd left behind.

Sam. Clint. Both the Twins. Scott. More than half their Team.

Left behind, no doubt to be imprisoned for standing with Steve. For defying the Accords.

Steve's gut churned with guilt.

Even the small victory that had been Nina and Natasha's defections to their side couldn't quite off-set just how badly things had gone. Steve didn't even know how each lost member of his Team was.

As the Quinjet had drawn free from the hangar, the fate of the Twins had been as clear as their prone forms where they'd lain barely a few metres apart on the tarmac, as was what had happened. Steve had made it to the cockpit just in time to see Rhodes disengaging his sonic canon as Pietro collapsed, falling back onto the pavement not far away from where Wanda had slumped, both likely unconscious. And judging by what little he could read from Nadine's drawn, pale face? If he was to guess, Steve would hazard Rhodes was responsible for the way Wanda had lost hold on the collapsing tower, likely hitting her with the sonic canon, which then explained why Pietro had been so desperate to get to her, to try and help her even at the risk of getting caught himself.

Lang had—presumably—shrunk back down to his natural height, hopefully without any adverse effects like he'd described immediately before going large.

Clint, Steve honestly had little idea, though from what snippet of conversation he'd caught through the earpieces as he and Bucky had been running for the Quinjet, he suspected Clint had tried to hold off T'Challa.

Obviously, he'd had limited success.

Sam, he knew, had been trailing the Quinjet for a short time, doing what he could to break Tony and Rhodes from their pursuit. But Steve wasn't entirely sure what had happened there, either, even free as he'd been to look behind them thanks to Nadine's place in the pilot's seat. All three had broken off at once almost immediately after Vision had shot a burst of energy toward them and the Quinjet from the Mind Stone.

To Steve's mind, that did not bode well in the slightest.

Not when he was fairly certain he'd seen one form plummeting from the sky before the hull of the Quinjet had hidden the three pursuers from view.

Then there was Natasha. If the way she'd turned on T'Challa hadn't been indication enough?

As they'd left the Leipzig Airport behind, Nadine had finally felt confident enough that it was safe to engage the Quinjet's stealth mode and let Steve take over the pilot's seat. Safe enough that Steve had taken a moment to edge closer, to squeeze her arm gently in a silent gesture of solidarity—and affection, he could readily admit—and ask if she'd had any trouble accessing the Quinjet.

Trouble she apparently hadn't encountered despite all of them who knew Tony predicting that he would've taken the precaution to suspend their clearance to access the Quinjet.

"I didn't even have to use the backdoor I left in Stark's security protocols," she had said sedately before hesitating, looking almost sadly to Steve as she explained. "Natasha left the door open." And sure enough, as he'd settled into the pilot's seat, it had been Natasha's preference profile and security access ID staring up at him from the console.

Steve had to fight back another wave of the dread that knotted in his gut. Undoubtedly T'Challa was not going to take Natasha keeping him from Bucky well at all, which meant Nat was now at just as much risk as any of Steve's captured teammates. Possibly more since she had defected. Something Steve knew Ross would take about as well as T'Challa likely would.

Not to mention how poorly Tony was liable to take the perceived betrayal. Especially if things had fallen out as badly following Vision's blast as Steve feared.

No, Natasha was just as rogue as they were, now, whether or not Tony ever found out that she'd unlocked the Quinjet for them on top of stalling T'Challa. The only question was whether or not she would be arrested on the spot, or if she would have a chance to run. It all depended on how far Tony went to shield her or confront her. Or both.

But worried as he might automatically be for his friend, Steve had little doubt Natasha would manage to slip away. She always found a way.

Not that it stopped him worrying. Or from struggling against the guilt he felt over the fate he'd abandoned her and the rest of his team to.

No, not abandoned. Not exactly. No matter how much it felt like that was precisely what he'd done. They'd all known what was coming by electing to stay behind to give him, Bucky and Nadine a chance to get through. It had been Sam and Clint who'd seen the writing on the wall before he had and Lang's choice to serve as the distraction. It had been Wanda's choice to hold off the tower's fall at the expense of her own defence. Pietro's choice to go back for Wanda. Natasha's choice to hold of T'Challa. They had each made their own choice, responsible as Steve nevertheless felt.

He had to remember that.

He'd be risking the mission if he didn't, and after what had been sacrificed? He owed it to his Team—his friends—to see ensure that didn't happen. To make sure their sacrifices in staying behind hadn't been for nothing.

The only one who hadn't had a choice about whether or not to stay behind was Nina. Not that she'd been in any condition to make a choice, anyway. No, at the end of the day, Nadine wouldn't have stood for leaving her behind, unconscious or not. Not when Nina had defected so spectacularly. Not when leaving her would've undoubtedly resulted in Nina's arrest. There was no way Tony would've been able to protect her after turning on Vision no matter his best efforts and they all knew it.

Much as he hated to admit it, Nina was better off with them...at least for now...

More than that, he had a feeling Bucky felt exactly the same way. Hell, Steve couldn't help a measure of relief that Nina was safe on board the Quinjet with them even as dread pooled in his gut over the idea that it subsequently meant coming to Siberia with them. A feeling that he was very certain Nadine and Bucky both shared if the similarly conflicted, drawn looks on both their faces when they'd looked to Nina were anything to go by.

But still...

Even though—for the time being, at least—Nina was safe, and while he knew that was a great relief to Nadine most of all even as it was to Bucky and himself, in the grander scheme, it was a small consolation. They'd lost almost everyone. Nina, while apparently powerful, was still so young and dangerously inexperienced when considering what they were facing.

Not to mention utterly drained from the Airport fight.

Almost from the moment he had traded out with her, Nadine had been sitting back with Nina, holding vigil and simply taking comfort from the fact that Nina was safe and by her side even as she made use of the Quinjet's limited diagnostic equipment to get a better idea of her daughter's condition. And during that time, Nina had yet to stir, making it seem quite likely that Pietro's assessment that she had completely exhausted herself hadn't been far off. Because of that, it seemed unlikely to Steve that Nina would recover enough to even regain consciousness any time soon, much less make use of her powers in any sort of situation.

So even if Nadine—and Bucky, Steve suspected, given the way he'd caught his friend looking at Nina a couple times, now—could be convinced to let her in on the coming fight? It was a moot point. Nina was in no condition to contribute. At best, she'd be recovered enough to keep the Quinjet ready, possibly even hold it. But more than likely? She would still be unconscious when they reached Bucky's former home base.

No, there was no way she would be joining the fight waiting for them in Siberia, whether she recovered in time or not. Steve had no intention of even considering it. No matter the extraordinary powers she apparently possessed, she simply wasn't ready for a life or death fight. Not like what they were heading for. He wasn't going to risk Nina's life like that. He couldn't. Not even for an edge, however slight.

Which meant that it was down to him, Bucky and Nadine.

It made an already uncertain fight suddenly look all that much more desperate.

And all three of them knew it.

It was definitely a large factor to the heavy silence permeating the Quinjet as it sped toward the Russian border.

Steve swallowed back a heavy sigh from the pilot's seat. Below them, Germany was quickly falling away. It wouldn't be long and Poland would be at their backs too. And Russia loomed ahead, a monumental expanse of territory they needed to cross to get to the hidden Siberian bunker they were headed for.

The secret base that was far more than just a base.

Steve fought the urge to look back to Bucky where he sat in the seat behind and to the left of his. But he could easily picture the likely tightness to his jaw and the tension in his posture. The idea of returning to the place they were going had to be one of Bucky's worst nightmares. Easily akin to Nadine or Natasha on the verge of returning to the place where they were trained, to the Red Room. Or Tony to the Cave in Afghanistan. The Twins to their family's apartment in those horrifying days after the bombs went off.

Steve wasn't even sure he had a single place like that in his past. A place that haunted him. That had irrevocably changed him in the most brutal, horrific ways. That had torn him apart and rebuilt him into something he didn't entirely recognize anymore. Forcing him to live a nightmare...

...or, in Nadine, Nat or Bucky's case, to become a nightmare.

The closest he had was the War or even, to some degree, bitter fights like New York or Sokovia or DC. Now those, in those he could see the ghost of a parallel. Especially the War. And especially everything that happened in DC when S.H.I.E.L.D. fell.

And that damned HYDRA train...maybe he did have a singular place, a singular event.

Those memories...all those memories haunted him. Those events had changed him, each and every one, even if not to nearly the degree that the Red Room had for Nat and Nadine or this base to Bucky.

They stayed with him, never quite leaving him alone. And as a result, his life was rife with...with reminders.

With flashbacks.

Moments when he was drawn back to those places, those times...drawn into his own head.

Places within his mind where he felt helpless, lost...even trapped in the worst moments of his life. Moments where he was doomed to never find more than a fleeting moment's relief before it was stolen away by more violence, more fighting...more loss and failure. Moments and memories that served as a visceral reminders even in his waking hours, at times when he least expected it, that he would never escape the war, the battles, the fight. Feelings he knew his teammates were all too familiar with.

Bucky, Nadine, Tony, Natasha; they weren't the only ones who suffered flashbacks. Who struggled against the shadows that haunted their pasts, their memories, their dreams. Steve endured his fair share too—glimpses of the War, of New York, of DC...the battles of his past teased and tormented his mind's eye more often than he liked to admit. They would never leave him. They haunted him. He just hid it better. So he knew intimately what they all struggled with. What they all bore.

It was a weight he carried too.

So to some degree, he could very much sympathize with what Bucky was undoubtedly feeling about returning to his former Base. With what he was undoubtedly reliving. The reminder of the nightmare his existence had become it was likely bringing to the surface.

A nightmare Steve had the sudden insight that he couldn't help but understand.

It was a nightmare he shared to some degree, unsettling as it was to realize.

It was another facet to what Wanda's vision back in Johannesburg had shown him even if it had taken him a long time to truly recognize it beneath the nostalgia for the life that had been stolen from him; his deepest fear...that what he was—a soldier fighting to protect those who couldn't fight for themselves—was no longer a choice, but an imperative that he'd never be able to escape. That he would never be able to stop fighting even if he wanted to. That he would be trapped by what he'd become. That he would never have anything more than that. That he might already be trapped by 'Captain America.'

That he had no hope for a real life beyond the fight, for a future that was his own.

His gut churned; when thinking of it like that, perhaps there was a closer parallel between him and Bucky than he'd thought.

But still, while for him it was a deeply held fear—that he would be consumed by what he'd become thanks to Project Rebirth, that it would no longer be a choice to fight—for Bucky it was a reality.

So in that regard, there was no real comparison.

Not so far as he was concerned, at least. Not knowing what sorts of horrors Bucky had endured. That he had been forced to commit. Not knowing that Bucky'd never had a choice where Steve had. It simply couldn't compare. Even if being 'Captain America' had become something Steve would never be able to separate himself from, at least he had some small consolation that he had chosen his path. That it was even a calling on top of a responsibility. And that he still had a life that he could call his own despite it.

Bucky didn't even have that.

Truthfully? He feared that Bucky might even believe he didn't have even a future beyond finding a way to keep the Winter Soldier contained. That any promise of a life Bucky might've once had beyond the fight had been ripped away from him along with who he was, who he'd been, the moment he'd fallen from the train a lifetime ago.

Even after DC, despite his mind finally being his own for the first time since '45, there was no question that he hadn't been free from the nightmare his life had become. That Bucky had been forced to abandon the fleeting haven he'd somehow managed to find in DC when his past had returned to haunt him was proof enough of that.

As was Nina.

Steve's gut churned yet again as he struggled not to look back at Bucky.

God, how...how was Bucky even supposed to process that? There were times when Steve even had trouble dealing with the fact that his best friend had a grown daughter and he'd had just over a year to get used to the idea... How was Bucky even supposed to feel about the fact that he was...that he was a father.

Steve couldn't even imagine.

And now they were flying into a fight where there were no guarantees that they would even make it out the other side, much less win.

Steve had never truly held to the idea that life was 'fair' or even that it 'all balanced out in the end' as his mother had often told him growing up. His health alone had seen to that, not to mention the injustices he'd witnessed and tried to right even hindered as he had been by the hand life had dealt him. Even after Project Rebirth, especially after Project Rebirth. After the War. After waking up and seeing that the state of the world arguably hadn't changed for the better despite all he and all those who had fought had done and sacrificed for in the hope of something better. After New York. After DC. So no, he'd never believed that life was fair.

But this?

This whole situation was in a whole other realm of 'unfair'. Hadn't Bucky been through enough? He hadn't deserved to find out about Nina the way he had; Steve had been hard-pressed to concentrate himself when he'd heard Bucky asking Nadine about Nina over the earpieces, he'd felt so raw, so he couldn't even fathom what Bucky must've been feeling. He hadn't deserved to have his daughter kept from him in the first place—not that he faulted Nadine's reasoning in the slightest. And now that he did know about her? He certainly deserved a chance to finally know the precious girl his life had conspired to keep from him. And yet their situation threatened to take that away from him too.

Bucky had already more than suffered enough to balance out the atrocities HYDRA had compelled him to commit. So far as Steve was concerned? Bucky didn't owe anyone anything. He just deserved to find some peace and some happiness of his own. Of that, Steve was convinced. And yet, here Bucky was, ready to lay down his life for the greater good despite the whole world believing him a villain.

Despite everything that had been done to him.

Because it was the right thing to do.

A dull, smoldering rage at the injustice of it all threatened to rise up in his gut. Steve forced his attention to checking their course, ensuring they were still on track. Taking note of their heading and current position, he took the opportunity to slowly drop the jet a few thousand feet, intending to fly right under the radar both literally and figuratively. Once satisfied they were low enough to be invisible to just about anyone who might be watching the skies, he urged the Quinjet to go that bit faster with the extra power disengaging the stealth mode afforded them.

And just like that, the estimated ETA lost minute after precious minute, slowly beginning to cut down their flight time significantly.

Steve let out a long, slow breath. No, it wasn't fair, any of it. But he couldn't afford to let it get to him. No more than he could allow thought of those they'd left behind to do the same.

If he did, he risked more than the mission. He risked their lives.

Behind him, he heard Bucky shift in his seat, undoubtedly finding a more comfortable position.

"How're you holding up, Buck?" The quiet question was out of his mouth before he could help it. He heard Bucky shift again, the crash webbing creaking faintly.

"Well enough," he answered after a long moment. Steve's head tilted faintly in Bucky's direction. There was no mistaking the reserve in his voice. Or that his thoughts were very obviously elsewhere. Probably on what lay ahead.

Or on who was laying back in the main cabin.

Steve almost regretted asking. What other answer was he anticipating? He bit back another sigh. Truthfully? He'd asked, in part, just to hear his friend's voice. It was oddly reassuring, just hearing the proof that he had Bucky back.

"How're we doing?" Steve's head tilted again at Bucky's return question.

"We're making good time," he answered, peering again at the navigation system. And they were. More minutes had disappeared from their travel time as the system had finished compensating for their increased speed and lower altitude.

"Good." It was little more than a rough murmur. But Steve heard it nonetheless. But he said nothing else, even though the silence stretched in anticipation. Not at first. After a long moment, Bucky inhaled deeply, and Steve was suddenly struck by the sense that Bucky was steeling himself for whatever it was he was preparing to say.

"This isn't going to be easy, Steve." It wasn't terribly reassuring to hear his own thoughts echoed, that was for sure.

"I know," he agreed softly. "But we'll manage. We have to." And there he was inadvertently echoing Nadine's grim thought from back in the parking garage. He spared a quick glance back over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of Bucky out of the corner of his eye. "We'll make it through this." Bucky's jaw tensed even as his shoulders slumped minutely.

"I hope so." It was said so softly that Steve barely heard it. But he did. Just as he heard the bleak thread in his oldest friend's murmur. And Steve's stomach dropped.

"We will," he repeated firmly, twisting to fix Bucky with a brief look. One Bucky met almost reluctantly. The corner of Bucky's lip quirked faintly.

"I know," he agreed, though not without a thread of grim resignation. "But with these guys? There's going to be a cost. And since I'm the one they know? The one they've faced before?" The rest didn't need to be said. It was something Steve had briefly considered back when they'd been in the early stages of planning this mission. Bucky was the obvious one for the Five to neutralize first; the known entity, the one that knew them, the most immediate threat. It would be smart of them to take him out of the equation first and fast, leaving them to face the unknowns—him and Nadine. Obviously it was a reality Bucky was just as aware of and he was prepared for it. But Steve wasn't about to just resign himself to that, either.

"Buck—" But Bucky didn't let him finish.

"If something happens," Steve grit his teeth at the way Bucky's 'if' sounded more like an unspoken 'when', but didn't interrupt; he couldn't deny how important this was to Bucky to get out, "I need to know she'll be safe. That...that Iris...I need to know she'll be alright."

"It's not going to come to that, Buck," Steve said, already resolved that Bucky would make it out the other side. Another glance back revealed Bucky was staring at his clenched fists, his expression drawn and closed.

"I need..." a sharp breath huffed out as Bucky paused to check himself, "Whether I make it through this or not, I need to know she'll be okay, Steve. You've got...you've got Nadya and your Team. Nadya has you, and Nina—" his voice cracked, and as Steve spared him another quick look over his shoulder. Bucky's head had tilted, turning ever so slightly back toward where Nina was lay under her mother's watchful eye. "Nina has her mom...and she has you." Guilt twisted in Steve's stomach at the trace of bitterness he heard in Bucky's voice. Bucky sighed. "I just need to know Iris will be okay, too."

"She'll have you, Buck," Steve said firmly. "Both of them will." The corner of Bucky's lip twitched again.

"We can't know that," he said softly, though the faintest hint of hope finally made its way into his voice alongside his reservations. Steve inhaled deeply, relief beginning to surface. Only for it to fade as Bucky continued. "But even if we all make it out of this?" He looked up, expression impassive as he met Steve's eye as Steve once again spared a glance over his shoulder, "I'll never escape being the Winter Soldier, Steve." Once again, unease gnawed at him as Bucky unknowingly echoed Steve's own thoughts. Steve didn't respond at first. What could he say to that? It was true. He'd already come to the same conclusion, after all, so how could he deny it. He wasn't about to lie to Bucky. Not about that.

Bucky sighed heavily again. "You'll make sure she's alright?" he pressed after a long, tense moment, the plea plain in his voice. Sighing himself, Steve nodded reflexively. He couldn't say no. No matter how much he wanted to insist that Bucky was going to make it through—that they all were—he was still a soldier. He knew not everyone made it out the other side of the fight. It was a reality of what they were. It was always a risk, one he'd be a fool to ignore or discount.

Not that he wasn't going to do his damnedest to ensure Bucky made it out of this. For his Iris.

For Nina.

Heck, for Bucky.

"You know I will, Bucky," Steve assured him softly. "It was never even a question. Her...and Nina." He didn't even have to look to know Bucky had sagged into his seat at the assurance, the shaking, stifled exhale he heard saying more than enough.

"Nina..." Despite himself, Steve's lip quirked in a small grin at the almost awed way his friend breathed her name. Like he still couldn't quite believe it. "Can...can you...you know Nina...well?" A reserved chuckle escaped before he could help it. What Bucky was asking was clear even if he hadn't quite managed to get it out. Steve pointedly ignored the ache in his chest that Bucky even had to ask in favour of relief that Bucky was finally able to ask at all. He glanced down to the navigation system, automatically ensuring they were still holding steady to the displayed course.

"Yeah," he answered quietly, unable to hide the fondness in his voice. "Nicola. She's a good kid, Buck. Sharp as her mother and stubborn as you, now that I think of it. Then again, Nadine's pretty stubborn herself, so the poor kid got it twice over." The look on Bucky's face was distant even as the corner of his mouth tugged in its familiar almost-grin. It was such a soft, almost reverent expression. Steve nearly had to force himself to focus on piloting over giving into the impulse to watch Bucky's reaction even as he continued. "She's got your eyes, you know, and she gets the same look in them when she's thinking of doing precisely what she's been told not to do."

"Why doesn't that surprise me," he quipped absently back, a faintly pleased note to his tone. Steve huffed out another soft chuckle, relieved at the shift in topic.

"It really shouldn't," Steve teased lightly, "and luckily she got her mother's brains on top of your talent for mischief." A soft huff escaped behind him.

"Why do I get the feeling she's turned those brains against you," Bucky challenged right back, a smile finally clear in his voice. Steve wasn't quite sure whether to laugh or groan.

"She has...like you, she also has an interest in matchmaking me with her mother," Steve answered dryly, unable to hold back his grin, "and in not letting me forget that ridiculous USO costume...or the song..." This time, it was a short bark of a laugh that escaped.

"Good," Bucky said almost smugly, ignoring the playful dig in favour of ribbing Steve instead, "I'm glad someone was making sure you remember your roots since I wasn't around to do it." This time Steve did groan.

"Really, Buck?" Bucky chuckled.

"Well, it was a rather spiffy look," he goaded, "and you did say it had grown on you." Steve was severely tempted to bite his tongue at the reminder. He should've known better than to admit that all those years back...and of course Bucky remembered it. He was suddenly quite glad Bucky couldn't see his grin that that was the case.

A more companionable quiet fell, then. But eventually, Bucky spoke up again, the lure of having someone to answer his questions too much. Especially when it became clear heavier thoughts had taken over. Steve quickly found his lightened mood dimming.

"So my—" Bucky hesitated in a way that had Steve sparing a glance back at him. Bucky inhaled slowly, looking distinctly unsettled before pressing on, like what he was saying was so foreign he couldn't quite wrap his head around it, "—my daughter is Enhanced?" Steve had to fight to keep his jaw from clenching. It felt an understatement to say that they'd all become somewhat sensitive to what had happened to Nina in Sokovia. Him, Natasha, Barton and the Twins especially, considering that they all felt somewhat responsible for what had gone down. And that wasn't even mentioning Nadine. But Bucky noticed anyway. At once his curious, even hesitantly eager expression faltered.

"What? What happened?" His voice, so unsure a moment before, had grown serious. There was no uncertainty now. Steve sighed.

"About a year ago she was taken. Kidnapped by the same people within HYDRA blackmailing Nadine. It's..." he paused, considering how best to explain; unfortunately there was no easy way to say it, any of it, "it's what brought Nadine out of hiding to team up with us. The mission she mentioned back at the safehouse? It was taking the base where Nina was being held. But...before we could get her back, Nina was—" Steve hesitated again, reining back his lingering guilt and anger at what had happened to the sweet girl currently laying unconscious back in the main cabin, "she was subjected to an experimental procedure using technology recovered during the alien invasion of New York; the same technology that gave Wanda and Pietro Maximoff their abilities."

Bucky didn't say anything at first as Steve fell silent, fighting back yet another wave of guilt and self-reproach.

"Who." Steve spared another glance back to Bucky. There was nothing soft or hesitant in the expression on his old friend's face anymore, his eyes gone hard and cold. In that moment, Steve couldn't deny that The Winter Soldier was no longer just programming forced on his friend. He inhaled deeply, ignoring the uneasy, reluctant feeling that had joined his guilt. It was in the past. And Bucky deserved to know.

He'd already had enough kept from him.

"A German scientist named Strucker, one of the heads of HYDRA." If it was possible, Bucky's face grew colder still, a quiet fury growing in his eyes. Steve nearly gaped at the reaction, stunned as he realized the reason behind it.

He'd barely even met her—he hadn't even known Nina existed before today—and Bucky was already prepared to hunt down the man who had threatened his daughter.

"I know the name. Vaguely, but I know it." He fixed Steve with a calculating, penetrating stare that Steve felt more than saw, restricted as his movements were thanks to his seat and his task of piloting the Quinjet. "Where is he now?" Steve blinked, startled back to the topic at hand. Only to find himself once more fighting to hold back his own residual anger at the HYDRA scientist, forcibly reminding himself of Strucker's fate before sharing it.

"He's dead." And despite himself, a cynical grin threatened before he continued, his harsh, clipped tone easing into something bordering on fond even as it was grim. "Nadine was furious that she wasn't the one to do it." A hard, satisfied smile tugged at Bucky's lips.

"Good."

Steve was not at all inclined to disagree.

And as the Quinjet sped on and Russia loomed ahead, they lapsed into silence once more.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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