daughterofliberty | [616] ground zero for trouble

It's been weeks, now. Weeks, since T'Challa had been waiting for him by the lake with the news. Weeks since it'd been confirmed; since he'd given up all hope.

Steve's had to leave for now, although he'll be back as soon as he can, Bucky knows. He's not sure how much of a difference it'll make. He spends his days taking care of the goats and doing the chores and refusing to think, as much as he can. When he can't stand it any longer in the empty silence of the hut by the lake, he goes to the bar; when he can't stand the company of people he goes back.

He can't refuse Shuri anything when she asks, and so today he's wearing her latest prototype arm, although the only test he's run is to use it to lift his coffee cup. He's pretty certain it's an attempt to re-interest him in the world more than anything else, but it doesn't matter. Not much does.

Not until he glances absently at the door when it opens - situational awareness is a hard habit to break, even when one's not all that sure about survival any more - and bolts to his feet as though he's seen a ghost, coffee mug crashing to the floor as he moves.

Then again, that's exactly what he's seeing, isn't it?

The sudden movement and crash of splintering crockery has her hand dipping to her sidearm and her back to the wall in less time than it takes to blink –

Only for her to relax once she sees who it is. "Buck," she says, holstering the gun and walking towards him with a pleased smile. "Hey. Have you seen Steve? I was supposed to rendezvous with him, but – "

She gestures around herself at the place that is obviously, demonstrably not Avengers Tower, then casts a crooked grin at him. "I shouldn't have taken that left turn at Albuquerque."

The grin vanishes as her gaze tracks downwards, though, and she frowns at the shattered coffee mug on the floor. "A little tense, aren't you?"

Edited 2021-09-10 03:16 (UTC)

"He left this morning," he manages, through lips that feel numb. Her words ricochet through his skull, causing a high-pitched ringing in his ears from shock.

Rendezvous with Steve. With Steve. But -- Steve wouldn't keep this from him, not something like this, he wouldn't, not even if Fury--

Her question hits like a hammer, and a rough, cracked breath of laughter escapes him. "Yeah, you could say that."

He can't stop looking at her as though she'll vanish any second, even as a part of him starts cataloguing a number of tiny details that just don't add up.

"Hey."

Her frown is deepening now, the longer she looks at him. She takes in his too-long hair, the drawn lines of his face, the arm that's – what is that? It's not the muted silver she's used to seeing. And that look? This one he's giving her? It's not one he's ever directed at her before.

They're not especially close, her and Bucky – so sue her, she's just never really gotten over the part where he kidnapped her just to get Steve's attention – but he means the world to Steve and a hell of a lot more than that to Natasha and it's not like they aren't friendly.

She steps forward, one hand held out like she's trying to soothe a scared wild animal. "Are you okay?"

The fabric of the suit isn't Wakandan, he notices, and there's something in the angle of her cheekbones that's just a little off. He still can't stop himself from meeting her outstretched hand with his own.

She's not a ghost. She's just ... different.

"As much as I'm gonna be," he says. "Considering that on the other side of that door, you're--"

His throat locks. He can't say it.

"Oh, no," she says, falling back on an awkward joke as his fingers close around hers. "Don't say it. Brunette?"

This is... weird. Beyond weird. Wrong? Unsettling? His eyes haven't left her face and it's making her a little uncomfortable. "Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to call Natasha?"

"She'd be surprised as hell to hear from you. And glad, too."

He gives himself a second. Just one, then he squeezes her hand gently and makes himself let go.

"Dead," he tells her. Try as he might, he can't stop the twist in his gut, the one that's echoed in the flicker of raw agony in his eyes.

"...Oh, shit, really?"

She swings around to look at the door. It seems innocuous enough, nothing sinister. Certainly there's nothing about it or what happened when she came through that might lead to the abject misery in his face. "Damn. And I was just about to go on vacation."

But she can't stay flippant when she looks back at him, sees the raw pain in his eyes, in the way he clenches his jaw. "I was fine when I came through here," she tells him, gently. "I don't know if I've stumbled into my future or past or what, but... you know, I've died before. It didn't stick."

The smile she gives him is wry but kind. "Maybe it won't this time, either."

"You haven't, actually," he informs her. Deep, deep suspicion's beginning to rattle through his bones; he's been coming to this place too long for it to be any other way.

"Trust me, I'd know."

"Really?" she says, unimpressed. "It's not like you know me that well, Bucky. Definitely not better than I know me. And yeah: I did. Except I didn't. It was all another one of Fury's little ruses that got way the hell out of hand – Steve never told you?"

That was well before Bucky had come back on the scene, before Steve had ever even imagined his old pal had survived the blast and the fall and been turned into a Soviet super-assassin, but Bucky's been back for ages now. There's been plenty of time to catch him all up on everything that happened before. "It's a good story, except for the parts where my life sucked for multiple years because everyone thought I was dead."

Edited 2021-09-10 03:59 (UTC)

He gives her a level look. "Don't I?"

But not only does her reaction cement his suspicion, it's what she says next that grabs his attention.

"I'd like to hear that story. And I think I should buy you a drink. Maybe more than one."

"Why would you?" she asks, more than a little frustrated. "It's not like we've spent a ton of quality one-on-one time together."

But his second statement has her shaking her head, relenting. "That's the most sensible thing you've said yet. Drinks, and I'll tell you all about how Sharon Carter died and came back to life."

Bucky shakes his head right back at her, then lays his vibranium hand on the bartop. "Whatever she wants, on my tab," he tells Bar, then looks at Sharon.

"It's the back to life part I'm especially interested in," he informs her, flatly. "Because on my side of the door, in what I'm pretty damn sure at this point is a parallel universe, my Sharon Carter - the Sharon who's been pretty much living with me for over a year now, the Sharon who loves me and who I love back? Supposedly that Sharon's dead."

"You – "

(the Sharon who loves me and who I love back my Sharon Carter for over a year now)

"Lager," she says, weakly, as she sits. "No – vodka soda."

Her mission on the other side of the door is just going to have to wait: it's not every day she gets hit with a bombshell like this. "You?" she says, finally, looking at Bucky. "And me?"

Her mind is racing, screaming but what about Steve?, wondering where the hell Natasha fits into it all, but it tracks, doesn't it? With the way he looked at her. Reached for her. The agony in his eyes. The way her words hit him like bullets. "Parallel universe," she muses, shaking her head again.

"That must be it."

The glass materializes in front of her as Bucky nods. "Scotch for me, please. Thanks."

The burn of it helps, even if his metabolism'll power through it like it's water.

"Must be," he agrees. "And yes, you and me. Although I tried to convince you Steve was the better man."

He is.

She doesn't say it; it would be unkind as well as insulting to this other Sharon, who is probably just as viciously loyal to this Bucky – Bucky Barnes! the multiverse is a weird-ass place – as she is to Steve.

But man, the magically appearing drink is so far from the weirdest thing happening right now that it's practically normal; she picks it up and takes a long swallow. "No wonder you looked like you saw a ghost when I came in," she murmurs, half to herself, and shakes her head.

"Sorry, Buck. That must have been a nasty shock."

Edited 2021-09-10 12:21 (UTC)

“You’re right about that,” he says, and tosses back the entire drink before requesting a refill.

It feels strange to hear her call him ‘Buck’, but it’s no weirder than the rest of this.

“So. Not dead?”

"Right," she says, blinking herself out of the mental spiral she's in.

"This was years ago, before you showed back up again. I'd been working with SHIELD and liaising with the Avengers for – I don't know. A long time. And Steve and I, we'd been together all that time."

She gives him a level look. "I'm not saying that to hurt you, Bucky. It's important for what happened next. Because when Nick Fury wants to send you on a dangerous, long-term undercover assignment, those are the kinds of missions that tend to get blown sky-high when your lover is Captain America."

He shakes his head at her. “No, I can see it. I just told you he’s the better man, didn’t I?”

Especially without him there to get in the way, it sounds like. Guilt wrenches at him. If he hadn’t - would Sharon, the Sharon he knows, and Steve…?

They could have been happy. He’d seen it, Sam had seen it. And maybe if they had—

He forces himself to concentrate on the here and now.

“Fury, huh?” A scowl creases his brow. “And a long term undercover assignment. Now that’s sounding a little too damn familiar. Okay, go on.”

Her smile crooks, dimpling one cheek. "Sounds like the me you know disagrees."

Natasha is going to have a field day with this when she hears. If she hears. Maybe this particular parallel universe will just stay Sharon's little secret.

She takes another sip of her drink, that smile fading again. "I didn't get all the details until later, but here's the gist of it: Fury wanted to keep Steve from coming to find me, so he planted a bomb where I was supposed to be and showed Steve a recording of me walking towards it and it exploding."

The chill in her voice could freeze a tropical island. "It was a good video. Steve believed it. And with an explosion like that, Fury told him, there wasn't enough left to identify. That was that: bye bye Sharon Carter, no more Agent 13. Nothing left but a fond memory."

“Well, she’s pretty stubborn.” He suspects this Sharon might be as well. She reminds him of what it was like talking with the Sharon he knows in Franche-Comte.

But as he listens to what she’s telling him, everything else fades.

A bomb, T’Challa had told him. He can hear each word falling on the air, gentle but clear, while water lapped at the shore and birds sang. A car exploded. There was a security camera that caught everything. I am sorry, White Wolf.

“I’m going to kill him,” he grits out, between clenched teeth.

Her lips thin as she presses them together. "Sounds like some things don't change no matter what universe you're in," she says, desert-dry, and leans forward to pull his attention away from his thoughts.

"Bucky, listen to me. If Nick Fury sent me – your Sharon – on some assignment and now claims she's dead and gone in an explosion, don't believe him."

Each word is sharp enough to carve solid rock. "Because he told the world I died and I didn't. I got lost behind enemy lines for years. Years. Alone and cut off from everything and everyone. Even Fury left me there. And when I finally – I'd changed. I was – "

("Remember Sharon Carter? Secret agent? Love of your life? That little fluffbrain worshipped you. Depended on you.")

" – Not the same," she concludes, tamping down the rush of old pain that threatens to well up again.

"If you think there's even a chance that might be happening again, don't let it."

Edited 2021-09-10 14:01 (UTC)

Even Fury left me there. The image of Sharon alone, unsupported, trying to survive in a world that thinks her dead sears itself into his mind, and the only thing that keeps him from bolting back through the door is the knowledge that time isn't moving on the other side and the need to gather the intel that might help save her.

If there's a chance, any chance, no matter how slim -- the rest of the world can go to hell. He's going to Madripoor.

"I won't," he swears. "I won't. I'll get the answers. If she's alive, if there's any chance she's alive, I'll find her. I'll get her out." He manages a flicker of a smile. "Steve'll help. And he's not the only one."

"Good."

She sits back and crosses one leg over the other. "If I'm right and Fury's just being a bastard again, it'll save you some fights down the line, probably. When I finally saw Steve again – that's a story – I was convinced he'd known all along I was alive and left me out in the cold anyway. Took us a while to get over that."

"Steve wouldn't do that." Instant and certain, all the way down to the depths of his bones. He can't imagine a universe, any universe, in which Steve Rogers would be capable of such a thing.

"And it wouldn't matter if she hated me, if she didn't remember me, whatever, as long as she's alive and well and happy."

The stern lines of her mouth soften at his declaration. "Now that sounds familiar."

Not directed at her, but familiar nonetheless. "And as for the other thing – as it happens, you're right. He didn't. He really thought I was dead."

She shakes her head and lifts her glass. "So Fury sent your Sharon on a mission? Do you know any of the details?"

"Does it?" He gives her a sharp, interested look, and taps gently on the bartop for another refill.

"I know a few. Illegal weapons trading, basically. She's got an ID that's well-established for this after some previous work, and Fury wanted her to infiltrate the market in--"

He takes a swallow of his new drink and looks at her.

"--ever been to Madripoor?" His tone says it all.

Her expression matches his tone. "Not for a while, but I don't remember it being my favorite place."

She taps her finger on her glass, thoughtful. "Easy to get lost in a place like that. Good for undercover work; dangerous, though. You get made by the wrong person and it's all over."

Sharon gives him a close look. "You said you have some other people who will help? You and Steve and who, Natasha? Sam? Tony?"

"Not Stark, no. He still wants me dead. It's caused a rift." He eyes her right back. "I'm gathering that's not a problem where you're from?"

Bucky shakes his head. "Steve, yes. Natasha, of course. Sam Wilson, yes. And I'm pretty sure T'Challa'll be in - and Nakia, and maybe Ayo and Okoye, with Shuri running comms. Plus it'll be hard to keep M'Baku out if he gets wind of it."

"Far from it," she tells him, a little taken aback by the list he rattles off. "He was the one who – you know what? It's probably not the time to get into all that."

She turns her drink on its coaster, frowning. "Man-Ape? Working with you?"

Parallel universes. What a headache. She shakes her head and tries not to question it too much. "Well, he'd be useful, I guess. And it might not be a bad idea to rendezvous in Wakanda before heading to Madripoor; it's a lot closer than New York."

"The Great Gorilla," Bucky corrects. "He's a hell of a guy in some ways, but has a strong sense of honor."

He's still eyeing her. "The one who -- okay, okay, we can table it, but I'd kind of like to know. If there's a way to bring him and Steve back together on my side of the door... well, I wouldn't object. Especially with New York not being an option right now. Steve's on the run."

"He's – "

She pauses, then lifts her drink and drains it. "For fuck's sake," she mutters. "I hate parallel universes. Okay."

Sharon turns on the barstool to face Bucky fully, sifting through all that's happened in the last years. "Tony got the trigger words out of your head. He equipped you when you and Fury were working together. And yeah, he and Steve fell out over the Superhero Registration Act, but it was never personal, and then when – "

It's her turn to choke on the words; her expression shutters and she turns away again. "How about that lager?" she asks, and as one appears, she picks it up, addressing Bucky without looking at him.

"A lot has happened. A lot of it not very nice, Bucky. I don't know if you really want to hear it all. But Steve and Tony, they're back to working together, as much as they ever did."

"Tony got--"

He stops himself there and takes another swallow of his drink, considering her. Whatever happened, whatever stopped her from speaking, it's bad, he can tell. Just as he's pretty sure that he can tell that she doesn't really want to talk about it.

"I won't ask," he says, gently. "But just to bring you up to speed - I'm guessing your Superhero Registration Act is something like the Sokovia Accords. Steve and Tony fell out over that, but I think it would have been sorted out, I think they'd have found a way, if it hadn't been for Zemo and his bombing of the UN peace talks while wearing my face, and the goddamn recording he played for them of the Winter Soldier assassinating Howard and Maria Stark."

He finishes half his drink in a single swallow.

"So, no. Stark wants me dead. Steve defended me. The Avengers are split. Some were in jail, until Steve and Natasha broke them out. Shuri's the one who got the trigger words out of my head. I'm clean now."

"Good," she says, bluntly. "Don't ask. It isn't pretty, and you've got problems of your own to worry about. If we ever meet again and you want to hear the story... we'll get some more drinks and I'll tell you then, okay?"

But she listens as he continues, her expression flattening all over again. "Goddamn Zemo," she mutters. "A pain in the ass in every universe, apparently. Okay, so you've got, what. Half the Avengers? That should be fine. It's not like you guys need an army for a rescue op."

"He's enough of one to be," Bucky agrees, then looks her right in the eye.

"If she's alive, I'll get her out. We'll get her out. Whatever it takes. I'm not leaving her there alone."

"I'm sure you will," she says, as gently as she can.

"Hell, just you and Steve together could probably take that whole damn city apart, if you felt like it."

Her finger taps on the bartop again as she thinks. "I'd make sure Fury doesn't catch wind of what you're planning," she warns. "He'd probably just extract her and double down on the lie. He's clearly playing a game of his own and he doesn't like when his plans get derailed."

"He'll never see me coming."

As a promise, it has weight.

"So, no, he won't find out."

"You are good at sneaking under the radar," she agrees. "Okay. With the Wakandans helping, you should be able to get into Madripoor without any problems."

She studies him. "Have you been there before?"

"It's been a while," he says, dryly. Very, very dryly.

"You have, I'm guessing."

"I have. I didn't like it. The whole damn city's a cesspool."

She sips at her lager, considering. "If you have a basic idea of the mission, you should be able to track her down. Follow the weapons she's supposed to be tracking... if that's what she's really doing there."

Sharon hesitates, then pushes onward. "Can I ask you something? Are my – are her parents alive, in your universe?"

"It might actually be. The problem's a real one. Stolen vibranium, stolen Chitauri tech - put together, that's something nobody needs," he informs her. "She and Steve did a hell of a job breaking up an auction in Prague. I could see Fury wanting her back but under his orders and no one else's."

Something flickers in his glance at the question - and at what it reveals. "They are. They're safe in Virginia."

She nods, pressing her mouth into a thin line as her gaze drops. "Mine passed still thinking I was dead," she says, low.

"Fury took that from me, too. He and I might have come to an understanding since then, but..."

Sharon looks back at him, her gaze level and sharp. "If she can have the chance to see them again, I know she'd want it."

"I'm sorry," he murmurs. "And you're right. She misses them."

She nods, then marshals another crooked smile from somewhere and lifts her bottle to him.

"This might be the first time running into a parallel universe has actually been useful," she says. "Maybe I'll try time-travel next."

He raises his glass to her in turn, even as he also raises his eyebrows.

"Does that happen to you a lot? Aside from coming here?"

"More than you'd think," she admits.

"It gets to the point where it's hard to make a date sometimes, you know? It's difficult to make Friday night plans when on Friday night somebody's stuck in Dimension Z or a time bubble or inside the Cosmic Cube."

Bucky shakes his head. "I can see how that'd be hard," he agrees, his tone desert-dry.

She's going to feel like a real ass if it turns out this wasn't just another one of Fury's machinations; that his Sharon really is gone and she's only made it worse by offering him a last, desperate hope. She remembers all too well what it was like in those dark days after Steve – after she'd –

Her mouth presses into a sympathetic line. "You probably want to go right now, don't you?" she asks. "Don't let me hold you back."

"I do," he agrees, "but my Sharon - and Steve, and Natasha - would wonder what the hell was wrong with me if I didn't do everything I could to make sure you were okay first. Time doesn't pass on the other side of the door while I'm here."

"Me?" she says, surprised into a smile.

"I'm fine. Better than fine. Once I get back and we complete this mission, I'm dragging Steve to Virginia for a well-earned vacation, and by God, this time I'm going to make sure he actually takes the time off. I'm good."

"If he's anything like mine, he probably needs it," Bucky drawls. "But yes, you."

His heart turns over in his chest at the sight of that warm, bright, almost-familiar smile.

"Oh, he definitely needs it," she assure him. "God forbid he be a man and not a monument for a few days."

But she says it with deep, deep fondness and trust; the kind that comes from spending years at one man's side, living and working together as agents, as friends, as lovers. "And if I can help you save your Sharon, that'll be a cherry on top of my already sundae-like day."

She studies him, rolling her bottle between her fingers. "I'm trying to think if anything else I know might be helpful, but I'm not sure how much of what I went through applies here."

His own smile surprises him. He can just see her dragging Steve off for a break, and is glad his best friend - one universe over - has her in his life.

"Sounds like him." He finishes his drink and sets the glass to the side, asking for coffee instead.

"You've already given me more hope than I had before. Anything else you can share, I'd be grateful for."

"Hmm."

She toys with her beer without sipping at it, thinking back; refusing to get tripped up by the clinging tendrils of old pains and fears. "It depends a little on how long she's been gone. For me – "

She shrugs. "Without support, I would up finding work as a mercenary, among... other things. Even if Steve had gone looking for me where I disappeared, he wouldn't have found me; I was already gone. You might want to watch out if your Sharon's fallen into a crowd like the ones I ended up with."

Some of her tells are different, of course, but there's enough similarity that he can read between the lines plain as print.

Bucky wonders, idly, if he'll end up shooting Fury again.

"Weeks," he says. "Not yet two months." Hopefully he'll be in time. Hopefully Sharon's still alive. Nothing's guaranteed, he knows, what with differences between worlds, but there are enough similarities here that there's a possibility, and if there's even the slightest chance he has to take it. He has to.

"There's another pattern you can look for," she tells him.

"When I was out there, twisting in the wind, I still did everything I could to ruin the bad guys' plans – just like your Sharon was probably meant to do undercover. There aren't many good guys in Madripoor, so if it seems like the few there have got a guardian angel looking out for them..."

Her smile is sharp and crooked and more than a little self-satisfied. "I'd check it out, if I were you."

Angel. The pang strikes straight through him, even as he manages to nod.

"Of course you did. I'll remember."

The faint curve to her mouth is as sympathetic as the look she gives him.

"I hope like I'm not giving you false hope," she murmurs. "It just sounded too damn familiar. But if I'm wrong... I hope you know I understand how it feels, all too well."

It had been the faintest glimmer of hope that led her to search again for Steve, that brought her to Bucky and Natasha and Sam, desperate for them to believe her.

"I'll take any hope."

He studies her carefully. "But Steve's okay now," he says. It's not a question.

"Yes," she promises, instantly.

"He's absolutely fine now."

He relaxes, unaware of how tensely he was holding himself.

"Good."

She smiles and shakes her head.

"Bucky and Steve," she says, "Steve and Bucky. Nice to know that's the same."

Bucky smiles back.

"I can't imagine a universe in which it wouldn't be."

"Pretty sure I wouldn't want to see what else might go wrong in a universe like that," she says, and thinks back over their conversation, trying to pick out anything that might be useful that she hasn't addressed yet.

"Not sure what to tell you about Steve and Tony, though," she admits. "If I had to guess, Tony probably wants to make up but he's being too proud. You say this weapons tech is a big deal?"

She considers him, thoughtful. "Is it a big enough deal to get two warring factions of the Avengers to work together again?"

He looks suddenly thoughtful.

"It might be."

The problem, in that case, will be his own existence - but maybe there's a way around that. Maybe Stark would accept him being taken into custody again instead, or something.

Edited 2021-09-10 20:30 (UTC)

"Give them an excuse to work together, I bet that'll do the trick," she says, confidently.

"Does this Tony give a shit about me? Ours is always down for a rescue mission."

"He might have before," Bucky says, slowly. Given the connection between Peggy and Howard, it's possible, although the odds on Tony Stark knowing exactly who Agent 13, Everett Ross's right hand, is aren't certain.

"But not since you - she - helped me and Steve. And got declared enemy of the state for it." Bitterness seeps into each word.

"He turned Natasha in to the Secretary of State for helping us escape, so... pretty sure he's holding a few grudges."

Her lips move, forming the words enemy of the state as her eyebrows hit her hairline.

"That does make it more complicated," she admits, still more than a little baffled. "But Tony being a bastard is nothing new. Trust me, I work with the guy every day. Well, if you play your cards right, you might be able to kill a bunch of birds with one stone... any chance Tony's feeling pretty annoyed with Fury, too? That might get him off his ass."

He winces at the expression on her face. Visibly.

"I mentioned Zemo framed me for a bombing. Sharon works - worked - for the CIA, the Joint Terrorism Task Force. She got word to Steve when the worldwide manhunt spotted me so he could get to me first, then stole his and Sam's stuff out of lockup and got it back to them after -- let's just say a lot of things happened. It's a long story."

He shakes his head and reaches for the coffee.

"Maybe. Fury's been off the grid for a while, after I shot him. I don't know how Tony feels about him, but Steve would."

Her expression turns from baffled to bewildered and she shakes her head, too. "I hope we do run into each other again," she says, "because clearly we've got some stories to trade. Sounds like things shook out pretty damn differently in your universe."

Look, it's not that she hasn't wanted to pull the trigger on Nick, more than once, but hell!

Still, his description of what she – what his Sharon did tugs a small, proud curve into the corner of her mouth. "Atta girl," she says, half to herself.

"So then what's the deal with the Wakandans? Not that T'Challa isn't handy to have along – and Man-A... I mean, the Great Gorilla – but how do they come into the picture?"

Bucky takes a long swallow of coffee.

"T'Challa's father, King T'Chaka, was killed in Zemo's explosion," he says, succinctly. "So T'Challa came after me. When he found out the truth, he offered me sanctuary in Wakanda, and Shuri's help to find a way to remove the controls. M'Baku and he sorted some things out shortly afterward, and now they're allies."

"That's handy. Way better than how things turned out with M'Baku on our end."

She lifts her beer, then thinks better of it and sets it back down again. "Coffee, please," she says. "Just cream."

It appears as her bottle disappears, and she takes a sip, thinking. "And you said that we – that you and your Sharon – were living together this whole last year? So she's been hiding out in Wakanda, too?"

He makes a mental note of the coffee preference without even meaning to, and nods. "She put a tracker in my boot when she got Steve and Sam's stuff back," he drawls. "So she was able to find me in Wakanda. T'Challa invited her to stay as well."

She can't help the grin that flashes or the laughter in her eyes.

"Tracker in the boot, huh?" she says. "There's that classic Carter charm. I oughta try that on Rogers, sometime."

God knows she's had a few hellish times trying to find him again. "So the lay of the land is: you two are on the run; so are Steve and Rome and Sam. But you've got allies in the Wakandans. Fury butted in, like he does, and now your Sharon is missing, presumed dead – or he told you she was dead, which amounts to the same thing. And you've got three main problems, aside from the being on the run thing: finding her if you can, shutting down the weapons ring, and getting the Avengers to play nice with each other again. Does that about cover it?"

"That pretty well sums it up," he agrees, and rolls his eyes at her. "Yeah, I figured you'd get a kick out of that. She sure did."

"Who wouldn't?" she grins again, before sipping at her coffee, considering.

"I still think you might be able to solve a bunch of problems in one fell swoop," she says. "Take out the weapons ring and the governments of the world will owe you. Do it with a blended team of Avengers and non-Avengers and the media will lap it up. And if your Sharon's doing the same work already – I just bet a few quiet words to the right people from the right person will erase that 'enemy of the state' thing right off the books."

She shakes her head and sips at her coffee again. "Trust me; I've seen it play out time and again."

Edited 2021-09-10 23:09 (UTC)

Bucky studies her with open admiration. "Your universe must be a hell of a place," he says. "Mind if I ask a question about the other me?"

She lifts her coffee to him in a toast.

"Ask away."

"The Winter Soldier," he says. "You said your Tony Stark got the controls out of my head. What happened with justice for everything I - he - did?"

"Well, it was a little complicated for a while," she says, after taking a long swallow of her coffee. "But you have a full pardon, and you work extensively with the Avengers. Legally speaking, you're in the clear."

There's something not quite soft, but understanding in her eyes as she looks at him. "You and I aren't all that close, but... I think you're still sometimes haunted by all the things they forced you to do. So you go out now and do as much good as you can, try to shift the balance back."

Bucky stares at her in shock. "I have a pardon?"

Sharon's frighteningly perceptive in any universe, it seems. He's glad to hear that his other self is trying to be responsible, in a way that he himself hasn't figured out how best to do yet.

"Yeah, Bucky," she says, gently.

"You have an apartment in New York. You're an Avenger. The Winter Soldier was a long, long time ago, although you've kept the moniker, mostly. And the arm."

She glances at the one he's wearing now – vibranium, she realizes. "Look, it's complicated; you're still a pretty polarizing figure, but you've done a lot of good, too."

It's hard to wrap his mind around it, but there's no indication she's pulling his leg - nor would she, he's sure, not for something like this.

Not Sharon Carter.

"Thanks," he says, finally. "For telling me."

"You're welcome."

She crooks a smile at him over her mug. "Who knows? Maybe one day we'll be better friends in my universe. I think I'd like that."

He smiles back. "I'm sure other me would too."

"I guess we'll see."

She finishes off her coffee and places the empty mug on the bar, where it gently disappears. "Any other burning questions about my universe? I don't know if I can answer everything, but I will if I can."

"I'm curious about a lot of things, but ... " Bucky's smile is gentle and amused. "Thought you said you were about to go on vacation? Don't want to keep you from that."

"You couldn't," she says, smiling. "Nobody could. I'm going to sit by the pool and drag Steve out hiking and grill some burgers and it's going to be great."

Her smile turns crooked and she tips her head at the door. "Besides, I know you're dying to go running off to Madripoor. I can't blame you."

He can't deny it, and doesn't try. Bucky taps the bartop and murmurs a request, and a matchbook appears. He pushes it over to her.

"It's easier to get back here sometimes if you've got something from here," he tells her. "Focus on it when you're coming through the door - that seems to be the trick."

Bucky smiles. "Have a good time. And, Sharon? Thanks."

"You bet."

She takes the matchbook and slips it into a pouch at her belt, then stands, considering him for a second before she steps close enough to lean down and curve her arm around his head in a gentle hug. "Good luck," she whispers.

"I hope you find her."

When she pulls away, she gives him a faint, crooked smile. "I'll keep an eye out for you. See you later, Bucky."

He stays still as she hugs him, then smiles back at her.

"See you, Sharon. Take care of yourself."

She lifts a hand to him and waves as she gets to the door, then heads through without a second look back, already smiling at someone she can see on the other side.

"Hey, Rogers," she says, as the door closes behind her. "Let's get this show on the road."

The instant the door shuts, he's on his feet and moving toward it at speed.

Bucky bursts through into the hut and heads for Shuri's lab as fast as he can run.

*******

Shuri nearly drops her tablet when he comes bursting into the room. "White Wolf! What is - is it your arm, has something happened?"

"No," he tells her, already heading for the communications room. "Sorry, Shuri. I need to talk to Steve. Right now."

He can't stand still. Bucky finds himself pacing the floor in front of the console as it rings, waiting for his best friend to answer.

"Not any better, huh?" Sam had asked, when Steve called to let him and Natasha know he was on the way back, and Steve had shaken his head, grim.

No better. No worse, although it's difficult to say how Bucky could be doing worse than he is: hardly talking, making almost no eye contact, drifting through the day. He'd hated to leave his best friend like that, like this, but he'd put his other responsibilities off long enough, made Sam and Natasha shoulder them, even while Natasha was working through her own grief.

"It takes time, Steve," Sam had said, and Steve had nodded.

"I know. See you soon, Sam."

But he's barely a few hours outside Wakanda's borders when the jet's communications screen lights in an urgent pattern; he checks the skies and the instruments and flips it on, worry a knife in his chest. He'd only just left, what else could have happened...?

"Buck? What's wrong?"

"You have to come back. Now." Bucky has no idea how wild with hope the look in his eyes is. "Steve, she might not be dead. We have to find out."

The look in his best friend's eyes hits him like a flurry of bullets; he looks nearly feral. "Bucky," he says, helplessly.

"I saw the recording from the security camera. I know you don't want to believe it – I don't, either – but I saw it. Sharon's gone."

He shakes his head, hair falling around his face. "It could have been faked. She might still be alive. And if she is - if she's on her own there, alone, she needs our help."

Shuri had hovered at first, worried, until he managed to coax her to leave. He glances down the hallway just to be sure, then looks back at Steve.

"I know it sounds crazy, I know. But Steve... I just came from the local. And I met someone there. From a parallel universe."

He swallows, hard.

"I met Sharon Carter."

"... You're right," Steve says, slowly. "It does sound crazy."

But it's the local. 'Crazy' is usually the order of the day, there. "You met Sharon from a parallel universe? Are you sure?"

"I'm sure. God, Steve, I know how it sounds, I know, but I'm sure. She recognized me. And she knows you. And Natasha. And Sam, and Tony Stark, and--"

His voice hardens into flat, deadly ice.

"--Nick Fury."

If he's being honest, he'd started calculating the return route the second Bucky said you need to come back. It's not a plea he could resist in even the best of times, and this is as far from that as a pin prick is from a black hole.

He punches in the coordinates and looks back at Bucky, frowning at the chill in his best friend's voice. "What about Fury?"

"So this Sharon, this other Sharon, she told me about something that happened to her," Bucky tells him. He tries to keep his voice even; he has to sound sane. Steve's worried enough as it is, he can tell.

"She was on a long-term undercover assignment. For Fury. And evidently he was concerned about her attracting too much attention ... so he planted a bomb. And showed you a recording of her walking toward it. So you thought she was dead. And instead she was out in the cold -- for years."

He shakes his head. "I hadn't told her what happened to our Sharon. But it's too much like it. You know?"

"Yeah," he says, slowly, mind racing.

"Yeah, it sounds pretty familiar. But, Buck – faking her death? That's pretty underhanded, even for Fury. Do you really think that's what's going on here? Why would he do that?"

Except they're talking about Nick Fury, who successfully faked his own death for years and who has lied to and manipulated Steve on more than one occasion. He thinks about the grainy security camera footage he'd seen, the way he'd felt as the explosion ripped through the scene, and his jaw sets. "Years, huh?"

"Yeah. Years. And I don't know, but I have to find out. If there's a chance--"

His throat tightens around the words and a humming silence sits between them.

"I have to go to Madripoor. I have to know. You see that, don't you?"

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, Buck, I do. But you're not going anywhere without me. Just hang tight, okay? I'll be back in – "

He glances at the navigational readings. "A couple hours, if I punch it. And then we're making a plan. Okay?"

He watches Bucky intently, wishing he could reach through the screen, teleport himself back there right now, in this instant, when Bucky needs him more than ever. Steve doesn't know how likely any of this is, but it doesn't matter: Bucky's right. He'd have to go.

So Steve is going, too. "Okay?"

The relief cascades through him. Steve doesn't think he's crazy. He's going to help. They're going to look for Sharon, and if they're lucky, luckier than he has any right to be--

Both of you were believed dead and lived, a tiny voice whispers. Why not her, too?

"Okay." He swallows, hard, and nods. "Okay."

His mind is already racing ahead. "Should I call Natasha? She knows the local, and Fury, and--"

"I'll call her," Steve says, firmly. "Get her read on the situation."

He studies Bucky, the nervous energy in the way his friend holds himself, the deep shadows beneath his eyes that have gone nowhere at all ever since T'Challa came to him with the terrible news that Sharon Carter was dead.

"Talk to Shuri," he decides. "If we're going in to Madripoor, you might want to go in with whatever the best version of your arm she's got. And then – maybe try to get some rest, Buck. I know it'll probably seem impossible, but you need it."

"I'll talk to her," he promises. "And then I'll go back to the hut. Find me there, okay?"

He doesn't promise to rest, but Steve's not wrong, he knows. Maybe he'll try.

"Count on it."

He gives his best friend as strong a smile as he can muster, under the circumstances. "See you soon, Buck. And then we'll get those answers."

"See you soon," he echoes, unable to answer that smile, but the look in his eyes says it all.

Bucky disconnects the call and goes to the main lab to find Shuri. It's not hard, as she's settled herself at the bench nearest the corridor to the communications room, and looks up at him as he enters. "Is everything all -- has anything happened?" she amends.

"Maybe," he tells her. "I put a couple of pieces together today. Shuri, there's a chance Sharon's still alive. Steve's coming back, and then we're going to go look for her. I need whatever the best version of an arm is that you've got for me."

Shuri stares at him, stunned speechless for a moment before sympathy creeps into her expression. "Bucky." She says it so gently, so very gently. "My brother said there was evidence. He is sure. He would not have brought you this news if he were not."

"I know. I know," he tells her. "But when Nick Fury's involved, evidence like that isn't good enough."

She thinks it is no coincidence that the White Wolf put these pieces together today, after Captain Rogers had taken his leave, but it would be cruel to say such things out loud. If he has convinced himself there is some hope in this hopeless situation, she finds she cannot be the one to take it away from him, not when there is a spark of life in him again for the first time in weeks.

"All right," she tells him, and calls up her design file. It is not complete, not perfect, but – "I must fabricate the arm; it will take some time."

But it will take Captain Rogers some time to return, also, will it not? He must be nearly back to the rest of his team by now.

But the White Wolf is nearly thrumming with the need to go, go, go, and so Shuri begins the fabrication pre-checks, starts running a final analysis of her designs so that this newest version will have everything they've determined it needs thus far, with none of the quirks or problems they've discovered.

"Would you like me to call my brother?" she asks, looking back up at him and taking him in: he is exhausted. It is more than possible this is some delusion.

T'Challa will know what to do. "I am sure he would wish to know."

Edited 2021-09-11 12:15 (UTC)

“I - yes,” he decides. “Call him. Nakia, too.” She’s one of Sharon’s closest friends, and she’s been mourning as well. And T’Challa needs to know, not only for help, but because if Bucky’s going to leave the sanctuary of Wakanda for this, risking exposure, Wakanda’s king has the right to be aware.

He drums his fingers against his thigh, thinking. “Steve’ll be back in a few hours. It’ll take some time to plan the reconnaissance, but your brother should know right away.”

Hold on, Sharon. We’re coming.

“I will call my brother,” she tells him. “He may decide what to tell Nakia, until we have learned more.”

And they will; there’s a determined look on her face as she lifts her wrist and taps a bead. “Brother,” she says, a little ways from Bucky, “I need you in the lab. The White Wolf says he believes Sharon might be alive; will you come?”

On her wrist, T’Challa’s expression is one of shock, complete and entire. “I will come,” he says, when his pragmatism wins out.

“Good,” says Shuri, and then, grimly: “Send me the recording you received. I would like to give it a much closer look.”

He manages to keep himself from pacing by going to Shuri's coffeepot and brewing a cup, while she talks to T'Challa and then starts muttering at something on her tablet, frowning at it as she makes adjustments to whatever it is.

Bucky stares at the coffee and focuses on marshaling his arguments for T'Challa, as well as initial plans. He can't talk about the local, not to them, so how else might he plausibly have come up with this suspicion?

Those things occupy him for several minutes, long enough for the next train to arrive from the Citadel.

The White Wolf says he believes Sharon might be alive rings in his head over and over as he strides towards the train platform.

Nakia had watched him with a sad, shadowed glance as he kissed her forehead and told her he was going to the lab; despite the crash of desire to tell her her mourning might be in vain, that her friend might yet live, he doesn't dare.

Not yet. Not without some more solid proof. He refuses to make her lose her friend all over again, to give her hope only for it to die a second time.

He loses little time in making his way to the train; takes long, quick strides to the lab. The only thing that keeps him from running is the sinking feeling that perhaps... the White Wolf's pain has created a new delusion for him, one that will surely hurt him dreadfully once more when it dissolves.

"Shuri," he says, entering the lab. There's sympathy in his dark eyes as he looks to the other man. "White Wolf. Tell me what you have learned."

Shuri waves an impatient hand at T'Challa without looking up from her tablet. "Not now," she snaps. "Five minutes."

Bucky gives her a curious look, then turns to him. "It's more of a suspicion than proof, yet," he admits, making himself meet the other man's eyes without evasion. "But I was... thinking. About how it happened. How it supposedly happened. And the thing is, T'Challa -- Fury's done this before. Hell, he faked his own death in a hospital so well that Natasha bought it. And there's no question that he's not a fan of interference with his plans. Having us think Sharon dead would ensure he had freedom from -- call it what you want. Accountability. Oversight. Interference."

T'Challa listens in attentive silence, nodding as the White Wolf concludes. "I have had only a few dealings with Fury," he says, dryly, "but you and Ms. Carter always described him as a man for whom the ends often justified the means."

Manipulative was, he thinks, the word used. "But if she is in fact alive, why have we received no word? Surely she would not leave her friends in agony, grieving a death that never occurred?"

Edited 2021-09-12 03:44 (UTC)

He shakes his head. "I don't know," he admits. It tears at him to think that all of this might be false hope, that she could be dead after all, but he can't let himself dwell on that. Not now.

"Maybe she tried. Or, depending on how deep undercover she is, there might not be a way for her to get word out safely."

Despite his better judgment, he finds he himself has not truly accepted the outcome of Sharon Carter's mission to Madripoor; he is all too ready to cling to the White Wolf's reasonings.

Even if he did not count her as a friend and trusted ally on her own merit, the part of him that would stop at nothing to assuage Nakia's pain and grief is much too eager to call this vanishingly small chance a real possibility. "Shuri," he says, sharply, and looks at her.

"Four more minutes," she says, and he shakes his head.

"You have one. Tell me you've found something. Anything."

The smallest flaw or slightest inconsistency in the recording. Anything at all to give him the excuse, to call this a mission and not just the rationalization of a grieving man.

Edited 2021-09-12 03:54 (UTC)

Shuri makes a frustrated noise and flings her hands up, filling the air in front of them with a frozen video image. Bucky goes as still as the image hanging there before them, grainy security footage showing an explosion ballooning, showing Sharon--

The sudden ringing in his ears is so loud he almost doesn't hear Shuri say, "Look. There. Do you see?"

T'Challa casts a glance at the White Wolf, the expression in his dark eyes thoughtful but not unkind, and then turns to stroke at his chin and consider the image.

"... No," he says after a moment. "Tell me."

Shuri makes another frustrated sound and blows up an innocuous spot on the sidewalk, just beneath Sharon's feet. "It's dark," she says. "But the angle of the sun is wrong for it to be her shadow. I think that spot of pavement is wet."

"So?" T'Challa presses, and she shakes her head, zooms in again on another spot.

"The rest of the street is dry," she tells them. "I'm almost sure of it."

Edited 2021-09-12 04:06 (UTC)

He steps forward on hearing that, studying the enhanced image with a burning intensity.

"All he'd have to do would be to insert her from another recording," he murmurs. "Can you look at the edges around that spot? Around her?"

Bucky glances away from the image as it shifts, to T'Challa. "I know it's a risk for me to leave the country," he says. "But I have to look for her. If there's a chance--"

Shuri begins studying the frozen image more closely. "I'm not sure," she says, frustrated. "If it's doctored, they did an excellent job."

T'Challa looks at her and as she looks back at him with huge, worried eyes he knows they are thinking the same thing: it's not proof. Not enough. Not yet. And if they are wrong...

But he studies that dark spot beneath Sharon's feet and another where the flickering ends of her hair seem to grow faintly smudged. He thinks back to her first night here in Wakanda and the look on her face when he offered her sanctuary; he thinks of the friendship and assistance she has given, not just to Shuri and Nakia, but to him as well, and of his determination to keep her under his protection as well as the White Wolf and he nods firmly, once.

"Yes," he says. "We will go to Madripoor."

Edited 2021-09-12 13:36 (UTC)

Bucky closes his eyes, and the lines of relief in his expression just serve to highlight the exhaustion and strain, as well.

It would have been enough for T'Challa not to object to him and Steve going, given the risk. For this --

"Thank you," he manages, and looks at him again. "Steve's on his way back now. He'll be here in a few hours."

"Then we have a little time," T'Challa says. "To plan."

And for the White Wolf to rest, if he can. T'Challa feels a pang of misgiving – if this mission leads to only more disappointment, what will that do to his friend? – but he shakes it off. There is no room for second-guessing.

He looks at Shuri, who nods. "I will have everything ready," she says. "Come back here when Captain Rogers arrives."

T'Challa nods back and goes to the White Wolf, putting a hand on his shoulder. "I will walk with you to the hut by the lake," he says.

"And we will discuss the best approach."

He opens his mouth to say it's not necessary, that they can wait and plan there in the lab to save time, and shuts it again without protest. He has to stay rational about this; has to do everything he can to ensure mission success, including making sure he's ready in every way. Sharon's life might depend on it.

Instead, he nods, and turns to fall in at T'Challa's side. "We can't go in hot," he says, as they walk.

No matter how much he might want to.

"How much do you know about Madripoor?"

T'Challa shakes his head, walking with long, measured strides, his hands clasped behind his back. "Nothing first hand," he says. "Nakia has told me of it. She has operated there in the past. I believe Agent Ross is quite familiar with the place, as well."

That last is said with a questioning air: no doubt Agent Ross would be more than willing to assist, but he as yet is unaware of the White Wolf's true identity. "I know that it is a lawless place, and that we will have to be on our guard."

He glances at the White Wolf as they board the waiting train. "Do you have reason to believe that, if she survived, she is yet in danger?"

"Yes." It's very, very flat. "Madripoor's a cesspit. I don't know how many criminal organizations operate out of there, but it's a lot. If she's alive, working her way into one of them to find the weapons smugglers, without support..."

He shakes his head. After a moment's grim consideration, he glances at T'Challa.

"The Winter Soldier's known there."

T'Challa considers him for a long, thoughtful moment.

"And yet would cause quite a stir by appearing in the company of Captain America and the King of Wakanda," he muses.

"...White Wolf, are you certain you are prepared to once again take on the persona you have worked so hard to shed?"

"For this?" Bucky meets his gaze and holds it. The shadows in his own are bleak, but his determination is clear.

"Yes."

T'Challa sighs, inwardly, but nods, his own gaze steady and clear.

"In that case, I will ask Nakia how we might best be able to leverage the Winter Soldier," he says. "I believe she still has come contacts in Madripoor, as well."

He struggles with it for only a few moments before he says, quietly, "She could coordinate with Natasha. She's ex-SHIELD; she knows Fury well, and she knows the capabilities of the Winter Soldier, too."

T'Challa nods. "Her knowledge and perspective may be invaluable," he agrees. "I will contact Captain Rogers and request a consultation."

He only hesitates briefly before adding: "And I suggest contacting Everett Ross. He has been working the illegal weapons trade as well; he may have intel we can use."

"Up to you," he says, quietly, as they leave the train. Bucky hesitates before taking the side path, looking to see which way T'Challa wants to go.

"He's going to be mad as hell when he finds out you've been sheltering the Winter Soldier."

"I have done no such thing," T'Challa replies, calmly joining him on the side path.

"The Winter Soldier has not been seen or heard from for over a year now."

Bucky glances over at him.

"You know he's not going to see it that way."

"Then we will see if Everett Ross is truly the man I believe him to be, or if he will disappoint me," T'Challa says, walking at Bucky's side.

"But I believe his concern for a woman who was previously his most trusted subordinate and his friendship with myself will prevail."

Bucky nods. "Your call." He'll stand by it.

And if the price of this is that he ends up back with the JTTF as Ross's prisoner, to protect Wakanda, to save Sharon, he'll pay it.

"White Wolf," T'Challa says.

"I will not risk you while attempting to save Sharon Carter. Whatever Everett Ross decides he must do, I will deal with it."

Soft and certain: "I know." Bucky looks over at him as they draw near the hut by the lake.

"Steve told me what you said to him, after I went under the first time here."

"And it still stands."

He halts a little ways from the hut to look out over the lake, thinking back to the terrible day weeks before when he had last stood here, grim news hanging heavy on his head and heart. "It will be a little while before Captain Rogers returns," he notes, gently.

"I suggest you take this time to rest and prepare yourself, White Wolf. We will gather to plan once all have arrived."

“I know. Just like you know I don’t want to cause trouble for you.”

He stops beside T’Challa, looking at the hut. “I won’t be able to sleep. But I’ll try to rest, at least.”

T'Challa nods and puts a warm, firm hand on Bucky's shoulder.

"If she is there to be found, we will find her," he promises. "I give you my word."

He pats Bucky's shoulder and lifts his hand away. "I will send for you when Captain Rogers approaches. Until then, rest as well as you can, White Wolf. Things will move quickly once we begin."

He nods back and makes his way into the hut. For the first time in weeks it doesn’t cause a stab of pain to do so.

Bucky sits down on the bed and picks up the neatly-folded green throw he’s been using as a pillow and presses it to his face. “Hold on, angel,” he whispers. “I’m coming.”

He doesn't begrudge the extra time it takes to return, pick up Nat and Sam, and turn around again, but it thrums through him anyway: what if we're already too late?

Of the three of them, Natasha is the most calm; she spends a good part of the flight in conversation with Nakia, discussing the best angles of approach, the various teams they can put together and the pros and cons of each. If she's feeling hopeful, she has it tamped down hard; her voice is as steady and even as ever.

For his part, Sam sticks with Steve, keeping him from falling prey to swirling worries and impatience. They stay busy by taking inventory of every thing that might possibly be useful in the jet, by fiddling with Redwing's controls, trying to get the most out of its range.

When they land, King T'Challa, Nakia, and Okoye are there to great them; Sam and Natasha head off with the king, already speaking low and fast, but Steve waves them off.

"I'll get him," he insists, when T'Challa offers to send a Dora down to the hut by the lake. "Start without us; we'll be right there."

He's hardly finished and doesn't wait for T'Challa's nod of acquiescence before he's heading at top speed for the hut by the lake, arriving slightly out of breath before he knocks.

"Buck? You here?"

He’d been right; he hadn’t been able to sleep. Instead, Bucky had taken the time to wash his hair, and to shave, thinking through possibilities and angles all the while.

He does finally lie down, staring at the roof of the hut, only to be on his feet the instant he hears Steve’s voice.

“I’m here.” He pulls the door open and looks at his best friend. “Thanks for coming.”

The hut by the lake has been a quiet, grim place for the last few weeks. If Steve had been haunted by memories of laughter and games and warm candlelight, he could only imagine how it must have gnawed on his best friend. He's not sure what to expect when the door opens: Bucky had been exhausted and drawn this morning; had been wild and insistent during their short call.

It's a relief beyond words to see the freshly-washed and shaved man who opens the door, and if Bucky's eyes aren't quite as clear as Steve might want, at least they've lost the hopeless bleakness that's all he's seen in them lately. "I couldn't have stayed away," he says, honestly, and draws his best friend in for a brief but crushing hug.

"Sorry I'm late. I ended up going all the way back to pick up Sam and Nat; they refused to be left out of it, once they heard."

“I’m glad they’re here.” He pulls back from the hug and looks at him. “Did T’Challa tell you? Looks like the recording was faked. Shuri took a closer look at it.”

Steve looks a little abashed.

"I came down here as soon as we landed," he admits. "But he was saying something about Shuri to Sam and Nat – that must have been it."

He gives Bucky a close look. "She's sure? It's definitely been tampered with?"

“She couldn’t tell for sure,” he admits. “Unless she found something else since I left. But she spotted some things that looked suspicious.”

Bucky’s voice is low and taut. “I’m not crazy, Steve. I’m not gone around the bend on this. There’s a chance, and we have to take it. I have to take it.”

Steve shakes his head. "I don't think you're crazy, Buck."

He manages a slight smile. "Hell, I came after you once before on less, remember? If there's a snowflake's chance in hell, we're taking it. Come on."

He tilts his head toward the Citadel. "T'Challa's gathering everybody together. Time to come up with a plan."

“Yeah, I do. It’s a pretty vivid memory,” Bucky tells him, managing a smile. “Let’s go.”

They don’t lose any time getting up to the Citadel, and Bucky leads the way to the planning room.

“By the way,” he tells Steve, “be ready. T’Challa suggested pulling Everett Ross in.”

"Everett Ross?" Steve says as they walk into the room, with mixed surprise and chagrin. "Why the hell – "

"Because he knows Madripoor, Captain," says T'Challa, rising from his seat. At the table, Nat smothers a tiny smile. "He knows the mission. And he knows Sharon Carter and her methods." The king of Wakanda gestures to two empty seats at the table. On either side of his, Nakia and Okoye watch, tense and anxious.

"Shuri is in the lab, making preparations," he explains as he sits back down. "But will join us by conference call."

Bucky pats Steve on the shoulder and walks to the further chair. He nods to Sam, then meets Natasha’s eye. There’s a grateful expression in his.

Once everyone is seated, T'Challa taps on a Kimoyo bead and one of the empty chairs fills with a hologram of Shuri, seated in the lab.

"I am grateful to you all for being here," T'Challa begins, looking around the table and meeting each person's gaze with his own level on. "We have reason to believe that ex-SHIELD Director Nick Fury has lied to us all and that our friend Sharon Carter is in fact alive and possibly in danger in Madripoor. Shuri?"

Shuri nods and the air above the center of the table fills with a frozen image taken from the security camera recording. At his side, Nakia flinches, her hand tightening on the arm of her chair until he takes it gently in his. She gives him a grateful glance and he smiles, slightly, before turning to the others, who are studying the image. Natasha Romanoff alone seems unmoved by fear or worry – she is practiced at hiding her emotions and putting them aside for later, he notes.

From her seat in the lab, Shuri tells them: "I have isolated several areas of the recording which seem to have been tampered with, and while I can't say with 100% certainty that this image is fake... there are enough discrepancies to make me believe it is."

He’s still wearing the prototype arm that Shuri had coaxed him into testing earlier in the day, which he realizes as his left hand clenched tight. Bucky forces himself to flatten his fingers against the tabletop, his glance settling on Natasha as Sam speaks.

“But why?” Sam looks around. “Thought Fury was one of the good guys?”

"He is," Nat murmurs, before meeting James' gaze unflinching. "For the most part."

He found out about James and Sharon, somehow. He must have. It's the only explanation. "Probably he wanted to avoid something exactly like this happening if we got word that something had gone wrong and she was in danger."

She'd said we but everyone around this table knows exactly who Fury would have wanted to keep away from Sharon and Madripoor. Sam glances at James, then shakes his head.

"That's cold, man."

It's Steve who answers. "The why doesn't matter right now," he says, firm. "All that matters is what we're gonna do about it." He looks at T'Challa, who nods.

"Agreed," he says. "And I think we all know exactly what we are going to do: we will go to Madripoor and find Sharon Carter... if she lives."

Edited 2021-09-12 22:55 (UTC)

Of course it would be Natasha who saw so quickly to the heart of it; to the reason for it. After all, the two of them have been here before, in their own way. His eyes meet hers again, and they trade a long look in silence, each of them aware of their own memories.

"That was a mistake," he murmurs - to her, to the absent Sharon, to anyone who might care. His glance flicks to Steve and T'Challa in turn.

"Yes. We have to. Not just for her sake, although everyone here knows what I think about that. But because Fury doesn't get to pull a stunt like this, endangering someone who laid her life on the line time after time for SHIELD and the cause it served. If she's alive --"

He forces his voice not to crack on the words. He can't afford to let emotion rule him.

"--if she's alive, then she's cut off from everyone but him. That's not acceptable. We have to get her out."

A beat of silence falls. He lets it hang in the air before he breaks it. "As far as planning goes, I've already told T'Challa that the Winter Soldier is known in Madripoor. We can use that."

Only after he says it does he let his glance return to Steve.

He feels the bottom drop out of his stomach. "Buck – "

Glancing at Nat is no help; she lifts one eyebrow in an infinitesimal flick that is somehow as loud as a shout.

But it's Nakia who speaks up, her expression studiedly calm. "He is correct, Captain Rogers," she says, her voice clear and steady. "And more than that; the kind of people we will need to connect with in Madripoor are the sort to be impressed and more than a little interested by anyone who has managed to... acquire the Winter Soldier."

She looks an apology Bucky's way; Steve doesn't think it's enough. "Anyone important enough to have the Winter Soldier as a bodyguard is certainly important enough to deal with."

It's Sam who breaks the next silence. "Are you sure?" he asks Bucky. "Not that I think you don't mean it, 'cause we all know you do. Just like we know you're willing to do what it takes, no matter what it costs you." Bucky blinks at him in surprise. He hadn't realized Wilson had been paying quite that much attention. Sam continues, "Just know... there's options. We can find another way."

"I'm sure," Bucky tells him, low and steady and certain. "But thanks."

"Too large a team will cause too much suspicion," Nakia continues, as T'Challa folds his hands together and half-turns to watch her.

"I suggest splitting into two: one undercover on the ground, one waiting nearby for extraction or support if things go wrong." Her calm glance lands on Captain Rogers, who looks back at her, still stricken.

"Captain, I am afraid the identity you created for Prague will not work in Madripoor."

"You and I will hang back, Steve," Natasha tells him, and he opens his mouth, about to argue, but Nakia cuts him off by turning to T'Challa. "You as well, my love," she tells him, and he stares at her, thunderstruck.

"Me?"

"You are far too recognizable, my king," Okoye interjects.

Edited 2021-09-13 00:53 (UTC)

"Guess that puts me in the starting lineup," Sam observes. "Okay, so it's me, you," he says, with a nod to Bucky, "and you two?" He looks at Nakia and Okoye, who both shake their heads.

"Okoye will remain with the others nearby," Nakia says, and Okoye nods, looking grimly resigned. "She is better as a warrior than a spy."

"And one more," Natasha puts in. Her expression is unruffled as everyone else turns to her with varying degrees of surprise. "A second bodyguard - one for Nakia."

"Okay, makes sense," Sam agrees. "Who?"

Natasha turns to look at Bucky, who feels all the wind go out of him as she says, "Yelena."

"No."

"Wait," Steve says, for a moment too bewildered to be either worried or insulted. The others trade similarly bemused glances as he says,

"Who's Yelena?"

Bucky shifts into Russian without even thinking about it as he demands of Natasha, "ты с ума сошёл?"

"Успоко́йтесь, всё бу́дет хорошо́," Natasha flashes back. "ты знаешь, что она хороша. вы тренировали ее."

"Не в э́том де́ло!" Bucky argues, at which point Natasha rolls her eyes and looks past him at Steve.

"She's my sister," she says. "James is being overprotective."

Edited 2021-09-13 01:23 (UTC)

"You have a sister?" Steve says, trying in vain to latch onto any part of this conversation that he can.

Okoye, on the other hand, arrows in on the salient point. "She can fight?" she asks Natasha.

Natasha looks pointedly at Bucky, who mutters several curses under his breath before nodding to Okoye. "She can fight," he admits, and Natasha smiles.

"She's as well-trained as I am," she says, smoothly. "And she'll know how to work with him. She's a good choice."

Sam's eyebrows have risen higher and higher as he listens to all this. He glances at Steve.

"Fine," Steve says, firmly putting a stop to both his spiraling thoughts and any other questions that might come up.

"Nat, Buck; your word is good enough for me. But how the hell are we going to get her out here in time?"

"I may have the answer to that," T'Challa says, surfacing from a few moments of deep thought. "Endangered or no, the mission undertaken by Sharon Carter is still a dire one. I would like to call Everett Ross in to take over from Nick Fury. Perhaps together we can finally see an end to this threat."

He turns to Natasha. "If your sister is willing and happens to be staying somewhere along the way, he could bring her with him and meet us there."

Edited 2021-09-13 01:45 (UTC)

"Oh, she'll be willing," Natasha tells them. "Location might be a problem."

"Call her," Bucky suggests. "Be sure on both counts."

"I can patch the call in here," Shuri offers. Natasha types something on her phone quickly, watches as a response pings back, then sends a second message and nods to Shuri.

"Use this number." She recites it aloud, and waits along with everyone else as Shuri does something on her end, then flicks a viewscreen into the air above the table.

"Hey!"

Yelena pauses halfway through the door, her phone in her hand, and leans back to stick her head around the jamb, rolling her eyes when she sees the face Melina is making. "Don't forget," the other woman warns. "It's your turn to do the dishes."

"Mama," Yelena says, scandalized. "I will. Can I just – ? Okay? Thank you?"

Melina waves her off and turns, muttering something to herself that Yelena is just as happy to not to hear. For her part, she slams out the door and into the early evening air as she thumbs the screen and accepts the call. "они сводят меня с ума," she says, holding the screen up to her face. "I – "

She falls off, features furrowing into a frown as she stares at the faces looking back at her. "Is that the king of Wakanda?"

"See?" Shuri hisses at her brother. "You are too recognizable!"

T'Challa ignores her in favor of inclining his head to Yelena. "Indeed," he says, mildly, "I am. It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Yelena. We have a favor to ask of you."

"Me?"

She glances at the other faces she can see, and her eyes grow huge as she recognizes Steve Rogers. "Is that Captain America?"

As much as possible, she addresses Natasha, who she can just barely see at the edge of the screen. "Старшая сестра, это что-то от Мстителей?"

"Did you say Captain America?" she hears Alexei holler from the kitchen, and she rolls her eyes and yells back,

"Busy! Give me a second!"

"Unofficially," Bucky says, before Natasha can answer her. "Hello, Alyona."

He can't quite manage a smile, but he can feel his expression soften a little as he looks through the display at her.

"My friend is in trouble. We're going to get her out of it. It could get messy."

"Yasha?"

She moves the phone and cranes her neck, trying to see him, as if she could move the display from her end. He sounds...

Bad. For once, she doesn't say so out loud.

My friend is in trouble. All her bewilderment washes away as her expression clears to intent focus. "What do you need me to do?"

Yasha, Sam mouths, and leans over to whisper to Steve, "Did you know about any of this?"

Steve shakes his head at Sam and looks at Yelena. "If you agree," he says, firmly, "you'll be going in undercover with Bucky." ("James," Natasha murmurs.) "We'll give you the details when you get here, if you come, but it's going to be dangerous. You can say no."

Yelena's eyebrows climb throughout this short speech, and she glances at Natasha, rather than Captain America.

"'It's going to be dangerous,'" she repeats, unimpressed. "Is he serious?"

"He always is," Natasha says, something unruly shading at the corner of her mouth. "I'll fill him in. You in?"

"Yes, of course," Yelena tells her. Him. All of them. "It's this or spend the rest of my life doing chores like Zolushka. Where's the rendezvous?"

"I'll text you the coordinates and time," Natasha tells her. "Be nice to the man who's picking you up. He's about to have a very hard day."

"I can be nice," Yelena says, defensively. "Fine. See you soon."

She waves and then makes an awkward head-bob of a bow towards King T'Challa, who she had kind of forgotten about, then drags her thumb across the bottom of her screen to hang the call up. She takes a moment to blink to herself, then stands and yells: "Mama? I need my suit!"

"I think it's in the laundry," comes Melina's call. "Why?"

Yelena's already coming back inside, but she's shouting anyway. "I have to go rescue someone with Natasha and Captain America – don't start," she says, holding up a warning finger to Alexei before she runs up the stairs.

"Don't wait up."

Shuri's laughter chimes out as the call disconnects. "I like her," she tells them all. Natasha smiles.

So does T'Challa, for a moment, before he grows solemn. "The last piece remaining is to contact Deputy Commander Ross." Somehow, Bucky manages to keep a neutral expression, although he can feel Steve tense beside him. "Shuri, if you could do the same again, but keep the visual focused on me until I signal you to expand it. We will need to secure the line against the JTTF systems."

Shuri nods, and her fingers fly over her tablet. Moments later, the call rings through, and the slightly-frazzled face of Everett Ross appears over the table.

"Your highness. This is unexpected."

"I apologize for interrupting you, Deputy Commander," T'Challa says, smoothly. "Please know I would not presume to do so were it not absolutely necessary; but it is urgent."

He pauses, then says, blunt but not unkindly: "We believe Sharon Carter is still alive. We intend to discover the truth for ourselves, and, if she is... we intend to extract her from her mission in Madripoor."

"What?" Ross stares at T'Challa through the phone, disbelieving. "But - how - why? What did you find out?"

"Shuri decided to review the recording we were shown," T'Challa says, smoothly.

After all, it isn't a lie. "She found a number of discrepancies, enough to make us suspicious. In the context of Nick Fury's relaxed relationship with the truth on more than one occasion, we feel it justifies a rescue operation. If she is alive – "

Beside him, Nakia tenses. " – If she is alive," he continues, "then she is friendless and alone in the middle of the most dangerous city in the world. She is still under my protection, Ross; I cannot allow it to stand."

He takes a moment to imagine Fury encountering T'Challa after a deception of this sort, and has to fight hard to keep from choking at the mental image.

"Of course you wouldn't," he says, instead. "I can work up a basic profile for you of what we know about the major players, at least in a general sense. It would help if we had any idea what Fury had her doing, but oh well."

Damn him to hell anyway for interfering with his agent, never mind the current status. They were working on that.

T'Challa hesitates for the space of a heartbeat. "We have some better idea of what she was working on," he admits.

"From what we know, the mission was an extension of our previous attempts to trace and neutralize the illegal weapons manufacture ring."

In other words... precisely what Ross has been working on, by the book, for over a year. "So you can see why I have called you."

"Son of a bitch," Ross breathes. "That bastard. He sent her to Madripoor after the weapons traffickers and lied about it?"

He shoves the rage back - there's no time for it now, although he'll have to deal with Fury later.

"Yes, I can. I'll give you the full debrief, everything I've got. What else do you need?"

"You, if possible," T'Challa says.

"We have assembled two teams for the mission. I would like you to be part of one. Your knowledge of the situation – and familiarity with both the likely players and Agent Carter's methods – would be invaluable."

"I'll make it possible," Ross tells him. "If you're still in Wakanda, it'll be faster for me to meet you there, but otherwise I can rig a few things and meet you in Madripoor."

"We will be leaving as soon as is feasible," T'Challa tells him. "But there is one more stop I would appreciate you making on your way, to pick up the last member of our party."

He glances to the side, Natasha Romanoff nods at him. "I will send you the coordinates of your rendezvous."

"All right, I can make that work." Ross eyes T'Challa with determination.

"You know I've got a perfectly good team as well. I can bring a complement along. No offense to any of your people, god knows I respect you and them, but we don't want another Busan."

"I appreciate the offer," T'Challa says, "but I believe we have it covered."

At his side, Okoye smothers a tiny smile. He barely refrains from winking at her. "I will be in touch soon."

Ross manages to stifle a sigh. It'd be easier to insist if Wakandan technology wasn't so damn superior to almost anything else, not to mention that T'Challa and his people -- including Sharon Carter, dammit -- came out ahead in Prague.

"Fine. I'll see you soon."

As soon as the call disconnects, he's striding down the hall, mind whirling at high speed with all the things he needs to see about before departing.

As the call drops, T'Challa looks back around the table.

"Nakia," he says. "Will you and Ms. Romanoff kindly review Agent Ross' files once they are sent, and determine the best angle for our approach?"

He turns next to Sam Wilson. "We will need an undercover identity for you, as well," he muses, and Nakia nods to him.

"I have a thought," she says. "Leave it to Natasha and me."

"Very well," T'Challa says, and looks at Shuri. "Shuri, we will need to be equipped. Are you ready?"

"Ready," she says, tightly, and looks at Bucky. "White Wolf, it will take a little while to remove the current arm and replace it with the new."

"Whatever you need," Bucky tells her. "I'll meet you in the lab."

"I'll come with you," Steve says. "Unless there's somewhere else I need to be, or something else I can do."

"No," says Okoye. "The Dora Milaje and the king's guard have prepared a flyer for us. We will be ready to depart as soon as the Princess Shuri finishes."

"Okay," Sam puts in. "I'll--"

"You'll stay right here," Natasha informs him. "Not only are Nakia and I going to refine things about your cover with you, but you need a little practice in how to be a spy."

"I will accompany you," T'Challa tells Steve and Bucky, and rises, adjourning the meeting.

"We will reconvene at the flyer when it is time."

As the others rise, murmuring, he turns to help Nakia up, gently squeezing her hand in his as they share a silent glance that nevertheless speaks more than any words ever could. "Come, White Wolf, Captain Rogers," he says, when he finally turns away.

"We will see what Shuri has found for us in the lab."

He walks along at T’Challa’s side, between him and Steve, as they leave the Citadel and board the train. Only once it starts moving does Bucky cross to look out the window before turning to face them.

“If she’s dead,” he says. “If she’s dead because Fury lied—“

Each word is tightly controlled and dangerously level.

“—-because he lied because of me, I don’t know if I can keep from going after him.”

T'Challa glances at Steve, whose ears are ringing.

If she's dead because Fury lied, he doesn't know that he'll be able to keep from going after Fury. "We can't think like that," he says, instead, as bracingly as he can.

"We have to go on the assumption that she's alive. We'll deal with Fury – however we need to deal with Fury – after."

When they find her alive, he hopes. Otherwise... he shakes his head. "One thing at a time."

Steve’ll have his back, he realizes. No matter what.

Bucky clings to the thin thread of sanity, reminds himself that he doesn’t want to disappoint the two men standing here with him, the most honorable people he’s ever known, and claws himself back from the abyss as he draws a deep breath, then nods.

Steve nods back, and breathes an inward sigh of relief.

"So," he says, after a second. "Yelena?"

It's difficult to put as many questions as he wants to ask into one word, but he does his best.

Bucky sighs.

“She’s a graduate of the same program Natasha went through,” he settles on, aiming for the balance between detail needed and things Natasha might want to keep private. “There was a time, when I was the Winter Soldier… that I helped train her. Them.”

The Red Room.

He doesn't know the details, but he knows that before Nat joined him and Sam, she had gone after the heart of the Black Widow program and taken it down for once and for all. He wonders if this Yelena had been part of it and makes a note to ask Nat, sometime later.

After.

For his part, T'Challa looks interested. "She must be formidable," he muses. "I have seen Ms. Romanoff in action. I look forward to meeting her sister as well."

“Oh, she is,” Bucky promises him. “It’s not any lack of skill that had me wanting to keep her out of this.”

He shrugs, very slightly, and pushes off the wall as the train slows to a stop. “But Natasha’s right.”

"I'll take all the help we can get," Steve tells him, as they step off the train. "Especially someone with Natasha's level of training."

There's not a lot of good he can say about the Red Room, but the graduates certainly know their business.

The lab, once they walk in, is as close to utter chaos as he's ever seen. Shuri taps rapidly on her tablet as designers and assistants scurry about, packing and unpacking weapons and tools. She waves impatiently as they enter.

"Come," she says, all but dragging them towards the medical suite where Steve can see a brand-new vibranium arm, gleaming black and muted gold, lying in custom-fitted foam. "This way."

Bucky strides after her, to all appearances ignoring the frantic activity around him, although someone who knows him well can see that he's taking in every nuance. Once they reach the medical suite, he goes to stand by the table and looks down at the arm. He glances at the prototype he's wearing, then down at the new arm, and his eyebrows rise.

"You've done a lot."

"We have been working on this for a long time now," she tells him, and directs him to lie down so she can begin detaching the prototype arm. "This design is a culmination of that work."

"Well, it looks great," Steve says, sincerely. He's taken up a position nearby but out of the way, while T'Challa has turned back into the lab proper to direct several attendants with their arms full of items towards the train platform. "Thank you again, Princess. We'd be sunk without you."

She waves him off, impatient as she works. "I should have seen it sooner," she mutters. "That is the last time I will believe a recording sent from Nicholas Fury."

He remains perfectly still as he lies on the table, a near-lifetime of training taking over while she works.

"Don't blame yourself," Bucky tells her -- tells them both. "Fury's a good liar."

The acid bitterness in his tone could etch steel.

She nods, but it's tight. She could have seen it, she knows, but she hadn't wanted to watch the explosion over and over, to see her friend go from alive and well to gone in an instant over and over.

"He is," Steve Rogers agrees, from behind her. The leashed anger in his voice is at least a little soothing: he doesn't blame her and neither does the White Wolf, who lies carefully still as her fingers fly over his arm and shoulder joint. She removes the prototype and sets it aside, then begins making the necessary adjustments to the joint itself.

(It's difficult to do this without hearing Sharon's jokes about the things she should add to the design, without seeing the brightness in her eyes each time the White Wolf said it was a little better.)

"I have kept the design simple," she tells him as she works, "but there are several elements that may be useful. An EMP in the palm, compartments which will hide anything from a metal detector."

"Thank you." Very quietly. He doesn't even glance at his shoulder as she works, not at first -- but after a moment it's almost as though he realizes he should, and he turns his head to study what she's doing.

"It's kind of elegant," he says, after a moment. "Trying to dress me up, Princess?"

It's the first joke he's aimed for in weeks.

"Me?" she says, smiling slightly through the pang as she takes in his washed hair and shaved face. "Well, perhaps. She has not seen you in weeks; we will try to help you make a good impression, yes?"

Behind her, Steve Rogers' expression is going through a complicated series of changes, from worried to something nearly sore as a corner of his mouth tugs. She thinks she understands how he feels: this is the most the White Wolf has sounded like himself since...

Well. Before. "Captain, will you please lift the new arm for me?" she asks, and he nods in instant acquiescence, lifting it easily from its bed of foam to lay it next to Bucky on the bed.

"I'll do my best," he promises, and holds himself immobile as Steve sets the new arm down beside him.

"Think she'll yell at me for not coming to look for her before this?"

He hopes she does. He hopes she's alive to do so.

"Maybe you should bring some flowers, just in case," Steve tells him, doing his best to join in on the light joking as Shuri manipulates the arm to the socket, where it connects automatically. She steps away to tap at her tablet, then looks at Bucky.

"Please sit up, White Wolf," she tells him. "And rotate the arm at the shoulder to make sure the connections are complete."

"Might be hard to reconcile with the cover," Bucky says, dryly. "The Winter Soldier's not really a flowers kind of guy."

With a few notable exceptions, none of which have any place here.

He swings his feet to the ground and sits straight, first shrugging his shoulder, then getting to his feet and swinging it through a full rotation.

Plates shuffle with the ruffling ease of a bird's feathers or a fish's scales, and Bucky flexes and moves each joint from shoulder to fingertip with a smooth, deft motion that perfectly mimics that of a flesh-and-blood arm.

"It's perfect."

She is more critical, having him move through a series of motions and positions to test the arm before she is satisfied.

"Good," she says, then purses her lips and moves away to touch a cabinet, revealing a shallow drawer. She reaches in and pulls out a small object. "Not flowers," she tells Bucky, then turns and walks over to him, opening her palm to reveal the gold bracelet that contains Sharon's suit.

"Bring this for her instead."

He stares down at in silence for a few seconds before he takes it from her hand, closing his fingers around it with great care.

"I will," he murmurs, and looks up at Shuri. "We'll bring her back. I won't stop until we're sure... one way or another."

There's an old, old ache that pangs at Bucky's words, at the look on his face. They've talked through it, and it's been so long, but there are times when Steve is right back there on the train, staring at the yawning chasm below, feeling so desperate the only thing that kept him from pitching himself off to follow was the mission they had to complete.

He'd let it happen once. Never again. Never again.

He waits until Bucky looks to him, then nods, firmly. "We won't stop," he says. "We'll find out what happened. And we'll bring her home."

"We will." It's affirmation and understanding all in two words. Bucky tucks the bracelet into an inner pocket and comes to stand by Steve, touching him on the arm.

"So we better get going, huh?"

"Not yet, White Wolf," Shuri tells him, and goes to another drawer, taking out a long flat box.

"You will need something more protective to wear. Take this, change on the flight if you wish to leave now."

Bucky turns to look at her in visible surprise, then comes to take the box from her. He balances it easily in his left hand, studies it for a second, then flips the top open and lets out a low whistle.

"Give me a second," he tells them, and goes to the small changing room located on the side of the medical suite.

When he steps back out, he's wearing the new body armor.

Steve smiles and even Shuri looks pleased. "Looking sharp, old man," he says, coming to pat Bucky on the shoulder before he turns to Shuri.

"Thank you again, Princess. I hope we'll be calling soon with good news."

She flutters her hand at them, smiling wryly. "Go," she says. "Go! So you can come back all the sooner."

Steve tosses a quick salute her way and nods to Bucky. "Okay. Let's go."

He moves to Steve's left side, unthinking, as though he'd never been anywhere else, and walks with him back into the main lab. T'Challa turns to look at them, and his eyebrows rise slightly before he gives a sharp nod.

"I see my sister has been busy. Good." He beckons to one of the technicians, who brings over an oddly-shaped package that she holds out to Steve as T'Challa continues. "She made this for me a couple of years ago, after seeing news coverage of Captain America -- it does not work well with the way I fight, but I think you might find it useful."

Steve gives him a close look, then accepts the package and lays it carefully on a table before opening it. When he does, his eyebrows go up and he looks from the thing in the package to T'Challa, then to Bucky, before reaching in.

A shield. Not like hi – not like the shield Howard had made for him, but a shield nonetheless. He straps it to his left forearm and rotates his wrist, and whistles, low and impressed, as the shield expands, arrow-shaped and gleaming.

"This'll work," he says, and looks back at T'Challa. "Thank you, your highness."

"You are welcome," T'Challa tells him, and hands them both the tiny distance-communications buttons. Bucky adheres his to the spot at his ear first, so that Steve can see where it goes, then nods to the king of Wakanda.

"We're ready when you are."

Steve mirrors Bucky, applying his comm button, then nods, twisting his wrist again to retract the shield.

T'Challa gestures towards the train. "Then let us go," he says, somehow just as calm and polite as ever, despite the way Steve feels as though he's humming with impatience.

"Nakia will meet us with Mr. Wilson and Ms. Romanoff at the flyer," T'Challa tells them as they head back to the train. "Agent Ross is on his way to rendezvous and will meet us at a pre-determined point outside the city. We will use the flight to plan our approach."

"Uh-huh. I notice," Bucky starts, as he moves back to his usual spot and keeps an eye on the train's windows, "that you didn't tell Ross about who he's going to be working with."

T'Challa keeps his expression carefully martialed as he stands, swaying gently with the motion of the speeding train. "I did not think it would be productive," he admits, without a shred of guilt.

"It would have been his duty to not only refuse to help but also to attempt to apprehend and arrest not only you, White Wolf, but Captain Rogers and the others as well."

Peaceably, he adds: "Ms. Romanoff and I agreed that she would instruct her sister not to offer any sensitive information until they arrive."

The corner of his mouth twitches in something that might once have been a smile.

"Probably a good idea." He shakes his head. "Well, he didn't arrest Sharon before, so I guess we'll see. If nothing else, we nefarious criminals can vanish after the op if that'd help."

"Is this going to cause problems for you?" Steve asks, but T'Challa shrugs him off.

"Only if Agent Ross is not the man I judge him to be," he says, calm but firm. "In fact, I suspect it may prove the opposite. He had hoped to use our work in finding and removing the weapons smugglers to legitimize Ms. Carter once again; I believe he will see the benefits to working alongside a team of this caliber."

Agent Ross is a man who will change his mind when proven wrong; T'Challa has seen it before. "Please do not concern yourself over it, Captain."

"Besides," Bucky tells Steve, "He was mostly pissed at you before for screwing up the JTTF op to get me, right? What with the Accords and all." He's careful to not let his true disdain for the Sokovia Accords show through, mindful of the fact that T'Challa's father had been a strong supporter.

"Maybe this mission could show that the Avengers - the secret ones, I mean, you and Natasha and Sam - can work with others just fine. Without the Accords."

Steve is unconvinced, but T'Challa doesn't seem concerned, so he only shakes his head and lets the matter drop, focusing instead on the flight and mission ahead.

He needs to rest, at some point. So does Bucky, who has been operating on a paper-thin margin of exhaustion for weeks now, and they'll need to be sharp once they get to Madripoor.

As they exit the train and head to the landing pad, he's still grating at being kept out of the main action, but he has to agree, reluctantly, that it's the right call.

The flyer's loaded when they get there and board, and it doesn't take long before they're in the air. Bucky takes a few moments to show Steve, Sam, and Natasha the weapons storage and various kits before they all settle down in the passenger seats, save for Okoye, who's insisted on taking the first pilot shift.

"Okay," he says, and looks at Natasha and Nakia. "Did the intel come through?"

"Yes," Nakia says. "After the mission in Prague where Grey was apprehended, he turned over a great deal of useful information."

"Particularly about someone calling themselves the 'Power Broker,'" Nat continues. "The man Sharon shot? Kwan? He was involved in this guy's organization somehow. Apparently Grey gave up information on a mid-level fence this Power Broker's been using to move some of the blended vibranium and Chitauri weapons around the Madripoor market. That's where we'll start.

"So we'll approach the fence," Bucky says, and T'Challa frowns. "For what reason? The same as we used in Prague?"

Sam shifts in his seat and gives T'Challa an apologetic look. "So these two have some ideas about that," he says, tipping his head to indicate Nakia and Natasha. "Evidently I'm supposed to be someone who doesn't like you very much. Like, at all. Sorry, man."

"The fence – Selby," Natasha says, "is the kind of person you go to for information, not just buying and selling. If Sharon was working the weapons ring, then I'm certain this Power Broker organization is the one she'd try to infiltrate. We bring Sam in as someone with a vested interest in the goods – "

"As someone who wishes to profit from stolen vibranium," Nakia adds, desert-dry, and Natasha nods to her before continuing.

"... And Selby is suddenly a lot more likely to play ball. If we want to find Sharon, we've got to start by flipping over the same rocks she'd have gone for."

Bucky slants a look at Sam. "I can see why you need a bodyguard in that role," he says, dryly. "How good an actor are you?"

Sam raises his eyebrows and jerks a thumb at Steve. "Hey, if Nat can teach this guy how to play thug, you think she can't turn me into a kingpin?"

"Let's just say Nakia will be doing most of the talking," Nat says, dryly, but her mouth twitches when Sam gives her a look full of betrayal, and she amends.

"He'll be fine."

Nakia pats Sam's arm, while T'Challa looks deeply skeptical but forbears to say anything.

The skeptical look grows a little as Bucky asks, point-blank, "Nakia, are you an equal partner or arm candy? The former, I'm guessing?"

"Equal partner would explain the two bodyguards," Natasha muses, then looks quietly amused.

"Maybe she could be his spokesperson. Sam, how do you feel about being too important to talk?"

"Hey," he says, defensive, "y'all are the ones putting me in for this. If you don't want me undercover, just say so."

"Kidding," Nat tells him, her mouth twitching again. "Kidding."

"You'll be fine, Sam," Steve says, and the confidence in his voice is clear. "I know you can do it."

Sam flicks him a quick look that's a little grateful, which swiftly shifts to determined. "I've got this," he promises them all. "I won't screw it up."

Bucky eyes him. "Just don't bring the bird."

"Don't listen to him, Redwing," Sam says to the drone sitting nearby, and Steve fights a smile.

"If I didn't think it would get shot out of the sky, I'd say you should set it to follow so we can have a visual on you," he says, and Sam nods. "But I get the feeling Madripoor isn't the kind of place where people would just let a drone hover around."

"It's not," Bucky says, as Nakia nods. He looks at her. "You've got contacts there. You've been there more recently than I have, I'm guessing. Want to tell them what to expect?"

"Suspicion," Nakia tells them. "Everywhere we go, from everyone we see."

She taps a Kimoyo bead and calls up a three-dimensional holo-map of Madripoor, sectioning off the city with her hands. "Madripoor is made up of two cities in one: Hightown and Lowtown. This Selby holds court at a bar called the Bronze Monkey, in Lowton."

She selects the neighborhood and expands it so they can all see. "Everyone there will be armed, and we should expect to be tested, especially when entering with the Winter Soldier."

She nods to Bucky. "Almost all business in Madripoor is done after nightfall, so we will have some to prepare and rest before making our approach."

He nods back. "They're going to wonder who you are and how you got hold of me," he tells Sam. "Some of them may try to get a reaction - from me or from you. Maybe Yelena too, but I think she'll fly under the radar; it's more likely they'll focus on you and me. Getting in a giant fight means we lose."

He's careful not to look at Steve or T'Challa as he says, "But we may need to give a show of strength. To show we're not to be messed with."

Nakia nods, and glances at T'Challa, whose stormy brow eloquently describes his feelings on the matter. He meets her gaze and nods back, reluctant but firm.

"What kind of a show of strength?" Sam Wilson wonders, and Nakia looks back to the White Wolf.

This will be hardest on him, for so many reasons, but he is determined and so she will support him as well as she can. "With the Winter Soldier as your bodyguard," she tells Sam, "someone will attempt to accost you." Her gaze is perfectly level.

"Your bodyguard will protect you until you give the order for him to cease. Is that correct, White Wolf?"

"Yes." All emotion has leached from his voice, leaving it bleak. He very carefully doesn't look at anyone but Sam.

"When it happens, it'd be nice if you give that order before I have to kill someone. Just so you know."

Sam's mouth hangs open, and he studies James like he's looking for the lie... but of course, there isn't one. Nat glances at Steve, who looks pale and stricken, then exchanges a look with Nakia.

"I don't..." Sam is saying, flustered. "I don't speak Russian, man."

"You can give the order in English," Natasha interjects, smoothly. He looks at her, and she nods. "You won't let it go too far. We trust you, Sam. Let it go just long enough for them to realize who they're dealing with."

Steve listens in silence, sick to his stomach. He'd give almost anything to be there, to be the one in the line of fire instead - but if he can't be the one, there's no one better than Sam to trust with Bucky's well-being.

"We trust you," he echoes, when Sam's glance slips to him, and makes it firm so that Sam will believe it. So that they'll all believe it.

"Besides," Bucky drawls, and Steve hears the faintest hint of teasing in his best friend's voice, "if you don't screw it up I promise to say something nice about your robot bird. That should be worth it, right?"

Sam's laugh catches them all by surprise, but it's like a wave of relief washing through the room.

"I'm gonna hold you to that, man," Sam tells the White Wolf, and T'Challa breathes a silent sigh of relief as the air in the plane relaxes.

"Good," he determines, then nods towards the rear of the flyer. "There are some sleeping areas in the back, there. I suggest we all take as much rest on the flight as we can."

"That is a very good idea," Okoye calls from the front, and Nakia's the first to stand and start shooing the others toward the sleeping spaces.

Bucky hangs back, near to Steve. Not only does he not want to sleep quite yet, but there's more that Steve probably would like to know about his meeting with the other Sharon Carter.

He watches as Nakia and T'Challa show the others to the sleeping spaces – essentially narrow beds with opaque, locking hatches tucked into the bulkhead – before looking over his shoulder at Bucky.

"Think you'll be able to get some sleep?"

"Eventually. Maybe. I'll try," he promises. "I know I need to be in better shape, if possible."

He lowers his voice just enough that it won't carry, without making it seem like he's trying not to be overheard.

"But I figured you might want to ask a few questions about -- about what started all this, earlier today."

Steve blows out a breath and glances around to make sure they aren't being overheard; Okoye is ignoring them, if she can hear them, and the others are out of earshot, so long as they speak low. "You're not wrong."

Of course he's curious. Hell, he'd be curious even if Bucky had met some alternate universe version of Sharon months ago, back when she'd have been here to laugh about it with them. "That must have been a hell of a shock. Did she..."

He casts a furtive glance again; again, no one is listening. "Look the same?"

"Mostly," Bucky tells him. "Enough so I thought it was her - our version of her, this world's her - at first. Cheekbones are a little different, and maybe the shade of blonde, but ..." He shakes his head.

"You're right, it was a hell of a shock. It's her personality that's the real difference, though, I guess. This - she - was a little sharper-edged, I guess. For one."

A small, weary smile quirks his mouth.

"Also she can hold her liquor better."

His smile is wry and a little sore. "That wouldn't be very hard, to tell the truth."

Steve thinks of carefully lifting a sleeping Sharon into his arms to carry her to her room, the way he'd joked kind of a lightweight, isn't she? and feels a pang familiar from the last few weeks.

"And she recognized you?"

"Oh yeah. Called me Buck." Something turns very wry about his expression, his tone. "Like you do; almost exactly like that."

Bucky sighs and runs a hand through his hair, shoving it back from his face, and lets it drop.

"She was looking for you," he says, simply, softly, holding Steve's gaze. "Said she was supposed to rendezvous with you. The two of you were going on vacation. Together."

"Me?" he says, blankly.

"That doesn't make sense."

"Sure it does," Bucky says, just as quietly as before, with an odd little smile. "The way she told it, the two of you've been together for years, back where she's from. You fell for each other before I came back."

Before he'd gotten in the way.

"Buck – " he starts, and then stops, swallowing it. She called me Buck; like you do, almost exactly like that –

It's not like he hadn't thought, once – long ago, now – but the timing had never seemed right and then she and Bucky met and that was that. A small, selfish voice wonders if that other Steve and other Sharon are happy; sounds like they must be.

Hadn't she said something like that, once? Back when he first saw her in Wakanda? Maybe in another life. Seems she'd been right.

He shakes his head, firm, shedding the thought like water. "That's got nothing to do with our world," he says, determined. "You know that, right?"

"I know." Still soft; almost gentle. "I know, Steve. And I swear I didn't try to, to get in the way, but I can't help but wonder, if I hadn't--"

"Bucky, no. Stop."

It's been a hellish few weeks. Bucky mourning the woman he loves. Steve mourning one friend and trying to be there for the other. The very last thing either of them need to do is bring up old, old worries; old 'what ifs' that drifted further away with every choice each of them made.

"It doesn't matter what happened in some other universe; it isn't ours. Don't wonder. The two of you are right together, I believe that. Besides – "

He tries for a smile, shaking his head. "You know our Sharon would clock you right in the jaw if she heard you bringing all this up again."

"She probably would, at that."

He manages an answering smile that feels as rueful and tired as Steve's looks.

"Anyway. The other one - what happened to her, with the bomb, with Fury, happened long ago too. From what she said I wasn't around then yet either. And the other you believed the recording Fury showed you. And thought she was dead, for years."

His jaw sets in hard lines. "It's probably just as well other me wasn't around during that or I might have killed him for doing that to you. Again."

"Jesus."

He thinks of stretching the last few weeks out, multiplying them by years, and has to suppress a shudder.

(Not again. Never again.) "Did she say how she got home?"

"She didn't say exactly how, but from what she said I gather you had something to do with it," Bucky tells him. "She said it was a story - one of a few that we agreed to trade over a lot of drinks if I ever see her there again."

He hesitates there, considering Steve, then takes the plunge.

"She had some things to say about Tony, as well."

Steve sighs heavily, then gives his best friend a rueful look as he crosses his arms across his chest. What neutrality their Sharon had previously held towards Tony Stark had gone out the window as soon as she learned how he had attacked Bucky in Siberia.

"Okay, I'll bite. What did she have to say about Tony?"

"Evidently you fell out there too, but this time it wasn't personal," Bucky tells him. "Over something called the Superhero Registration Act, which sounds like their world's version of the Sokovia Accords. And I don't know how long it took, but sounds like things are better now. You're back working together and friends again."

He keeps his tone level, keeps it kind. "She thinks our Tony might want to make up but is too proud to reach out. Asked if the weapons trouble would be enough to give you an excuse to work together again."

Steve looks at Bucky for a moment, a long, searching glance, then turns a little away, stroking his hand over his bearded chin.

Too proud to reach out. That would explain why the burner phone Steve keeps, just in case of emergency, never rings. But then, Steve hasn't reached out either.

It's not the same, he argues to himself. Tony would arrest them. He'd have to, now. He's the one who has to bend first. God knows Steve's given him more chances than he probably deserves.

... but that thought still leaves a bad-tasting film of guilt in his mouth, and he glances back at Bucky. "Maybe," he admits.

"I don't know, Buck. A lot's happened. Maybe there's nothing to fix between me and Tony anymore."

Bucky looks steadily at him.

"There's only one way to find out. You know that, right?"

Steve gives him a wry look.

"You've gotten pretty wise in your old age, you know that?" But he shakes his head, relenting, even as his arms stay crossed.

"It might be enough. But let's take it one step at a time, pal. First things first: finding your girl and getting her the hell out of Madripoor."

"Well, I'm sure old enough," he points out, dryly. "Has to be good for something, right?"

Bucky takes in the way Steve's holding himself and decides to leave it there for now. Mostly.

"I just hope this isn't a wild-goose chase," he says, quietly. "I know it could be - that she could be -- but there's a chance. So yeah, first things first."

"Hey."

He uncrosses his arms to put a warm, heavy hand on Bucky's shoulder. "Whatever happens," he promises, quietly, his eyes steady on his best friend's face, "whatever we find, we'll face it together."

Maybe it isn't smart to latch so completely onto this hope. If it turns out Fury was right all along... he doesn't know what a second, even more crushing disappointment, after all this build up and strain, might do to Bucky. These last few weeks wouldn't even compare.

But he can promise to be there. Whatever happens. To the end of the line. "There's a chance. And if there's anyone I know who can take even the slimmest chance and make it the only possible outcome, it's Sharon Carter."

"You're right about that," he says, leaning into Steve's touch just a little. "She's like you, that way."

"The other one said that she - when it happened to her - that she ended up as a mercenary for a while. And did her best to look out for the good guys. Like a guardian angel." The corner of his mouth twitches upward in a rueful hint of a smile. "I can see it. Can't you?"

"Sure," Steve says, easily.

("They're gonna come looking for you."
"I know.")

"She's looked out plenty for us, after all."

"She has. And--"

"Do I have to separate the two of you so that you'll stop talking and get some sleep?" Natasha is standing there with her arms crossed and one foot tapping, looking back and forth between them.

Steve has the grace to look a little abashed.

"We're getting there," he says, and lifts his hand from Bucky's shoulder after meeting his best friend's glance with his own slightly guilty one. "But you're right. We need to sleep."

"Лисичка," he murmurs, a little fond, a lot wry. "So quick-tempered." He holds up both hands before she can snap at him and adds, "But like Steve said, you're right. Both about this and before - about Yelena."

Natasha shakes her head at him. "You idiot man. Of course I am." She smiles, a little, the hidden worry in her glance easing slightly. "Go to sleep. I promise I'll wake you both if anything happens. Nakia and I are trading watches to keep the pilots company."

"Good," Steve says, and gives her a stern look. "Get some rest yourself, Nat. We're all going to need to be at our best for this op."

She gives him a slightly mocking salute. "Whatever you say, Cap," she tells him, then gives them both a slight, crooked smile and continues moving to the front of the plane to join Okoye, speaking in low voices.

Steve shakes his head and starts for the rear of the cabin. "Come on. Better grab a bunk before she comes back."

"You're not wrong," he agrees, and follows Steve to the back of the flyer. Bucky takes the bunk one over from his and slides into it with ease, then sets himself to trying to sleep.

* * *

They set down in a field well outside the city limits, not quite close enough to scent the salt air when the hatch opens and they come down the ramp to blink in the sun and sweat in the humid air.

They're first to the rendezvous and use that time to polish their plan. Sam and Nakia dress in new, garish clothing and have intense, quiet conversations with Natasha and Bucky; Steve and T'Challa and Okoye set up their communications hub with help from Shuri, who remotes in and sets up all the necessary connections.

It's several hours after they've landed when the sound of engines comes roaring from above and another jet sets down.

"Ah," says T'Challa. "The cavalry. White Wolf, perhaps it would be best for me to ease Agent Ross into seeing you."

"Probably a good idea," Bucky agrees, and returns to the flyer, where he takes up a position near enough to the ramp to observe what's going on outside without being seen.

Hopefully this'll work. It'll be easier to see if Ross's going to be reasonable about things by having him be faced with the rogue Avengers rather than with one of the world's most wanted terrorists.

It's been a long flight. Where did T'Challa find this girl? Ross had spent most of the trip trying to coax that out of her, but she'd alternated between sniping at him and stubbornly remaining silent.

He safes the controls - just in case - and gives himself a second to dry-swallow an aspirin for the pounding headache while she makes her way out of the jet first.

"Hang back a moment, Captain," T'Challa advises, then strolls to the lowering ramp of the jet, hands clasped behind his back, and nods to the descending figure. She seems hardly more than a girl, he notes; but he has known too many fearsome Dora Milajie to be fooled by her round cheeks and innocent face.

"Yelena Belova," he greets her. "You are most welcome. Thank you for joining us."

She gives him a sharp, assessing look, then purses her lips and blows out a breath. "Fine," she says, shortly. "But next time maybe you can ride with him." She jerks a thumb back at the interior of the plane and rolls her eyes in a way that makes T'Challa think abruptly of Shuri. "Talk, talk, talk. So many questions. 'Who are you?' 'Why did they ask for you?' 'Will you stop pressing buttons before we crash and die?'"

She blows a raspberry and flips a hand. "Tedious. Oh, there is my sister – Natasha!" she yells, waving an arm above her head and jogging past T'Challa, who watches her with bemusement until he hears – "Natasha?"

Everett Ross clambers down to the ground, looking drained and confused. T'Challa steps forward, smoothly. "Welcome, Agent Ross," he says, as calmly as if he were receiving his friend at the Citadel.

"Thank you for coming."

Edited 2021-09-14 01:13 (UTC)

Ross scrubs his hands over his face, then looks up at T'Challa. "No problem. Worth it to put one in Fury's eye for screwing with my agent and my work. Even with the very interesting new team member who just ran off that way."

He grimaces. "I'm guessing she's worked with your War Dogs before, or something? Please tell me she's got useful intel because if you had me pick her up just to drive me crazy, well, it's working."

"I've never met her before in my life," T'Challa admits. "I brought her in on the strength of recommendation from one of my team members alone."

He's positioned himself so that it would be difficult for Ross to see past him, but the man reached his position for a reason, and T'Challa has no desire to lie to him. "Speaking of which, I think it is time I introduced you to the mission team." He gestures for Ross to follow him, then turns to where Steve Rogers is still standing, Natasha and Wilson nearby.

"I think you know Captain Rogers?"

Ross's mouth hangs open for a moment before he manages to get himself the hell together. "We've met," he snaps, tersely. "Your highness, with all due respect, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Deputy Commander Ross," Steve says, stepping forward before T'Challa can answer. "I know I'm not your favorite person. I know under any other circumstances it would be your duty to arrest me and my team, and I want you to know, I respect your dedication to your duty."

"Careful, Steve," Sam mutters, but Natasha silences him with a glance as Yelena Belova looks on, curious.

Steve ignores them all for the moment, keeping his earnest gaze on Ross. "But we're here for the same reason as you, today. Because somebody we all care about might be in a whole heap of trouble, and it might take every one of us to get her back out of it again. However you might feel about me, I'm willing to bet you can set it aside if it means getting Sharon out, safe and sound. Am I wrong?"

"She said she was in touch with you," he mutters. "It figures. SHIELD's legacy is never not going to be a pain in my ass, is it? Not to mention--"

Ross blows out a long breath and glares at Steve. "Listen, Captain. I don't have anything against you personally, by which I mean as a person, okay? But you and the rest of the Avengers - including goddamn Tony Stark, by the way - have made my life hell for literal years now. That's what I don't like. I don't like having to deploy my people to deal with increased threat levels among those left in the wreckage after one of your battles, while the Avengers soar off to the next mission instead of working with me. But I'm not stupid enough to pretend that you haven't made the world safer in a lot of ways, either. So if we can work together for once to get my agent out of trouble in fucking Madripoor, then maybe we'll have something to talk about after. Got it?"

He gives T'Challa a half-furious, half-exasperated look. "You set me up for this, didn't you?"

"Got it," Steve says, as T'Challa turns a mild face to Ross's outburst, but before he can answer, an amused voice does so for him.

"Yes, he did," Nakia says, strolling past T'Challa to offer her hand to Ross, her smile pleased and warm and bright. "Hello, Ross. Please forgive us; we were not sure you would join otherwise."

"I can take responsibility for my own actions, Nakia," T'Challa tells her, and she winks at Ross before stepping back, lifting her hands in a gesture that says very well; it's your funeral.

"I am sorry not to have been forthcoming," T'Challa tells the other man. "But as Nakia said, I was not sure you would come. And there is still one more for you to meet, but before I introduce you, I ask you to remember the good work we have done together and to trust that my judgment in this matter is sound... and final. This is not a matter for the Joint Terrorism Task Force. I come to you today as a friend asking for help, only."

Edited 2021-09-14 02:07 (UTC)

"Good to see you, Nakia," he says, and looks past her to where Okoye stands, silent and watchful. "You too, General."

As T'Challa apologizes, he shakes his head and starts to reassure him -- only to feel the bottom drop out of his stomach as he continues.

Oh, Christ. No, he pleads with an uncaring universe. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together, not when Steve Rogers is standing right there, not when Wilson and Romanoff helped them escape, not to mention Sharon throwing her entire career out the fucking window for them. Why me?

"Goddammit," he curses, exasperated beyond belief. "Might as well get it over with. Where is he?"

T'Challa nods, and looks to the flyer.

"White Wolf," he calls, politely. "Kindly come out and join us."

He'd listened to the whole thing, especially Ross's speech, with what would be cautious amusement under any other circumstances. Looks like T'Challa's judgement of the man's pretty accurate - so far, anyway. Even when it's obvious that Ross has figured it out, he holds his position until called.

Bucky ducks through the entrance and comes down the flyer's ramp at a steady, deliberate pace. Wilson's the most obviously tense of them all, his glance flicking back and forth among the others. T'Challa's holding himself with the lazy relaxation of someone who's ready to move, while Steve's standing almost at attention, watching closely. Natasha's expression is neutral, the pure, half-amused look that he knows all too well is a mask to hide her true feelings. Beside her, Yelena glances at her sister and assumes a cool mask of her own.

He walks forward and stops about ten feet away from Ross, picking a spot between T'Challa and Steve without being too close to either, meets Ross's eyes, and waits.

Edited 2021-09-14 02:41 (UTC)

"You're the White Wolf?" It's more than a little strangled. Ross scrubs his hand over his mouth, staring at Barnes. "Goddamn it. No wonder--"

He cuts himself off there and gives Barnes a sharp stare before directing a long, level look at T'Challa, who's clearly trying to drive him insane. "You sure don't make it easy, your highness."

Ross turns back to the man in front of him and sighs. "Okay, first things first. On behalf of the Joint Terrorism Task Force--"

T'Challa stirs, and Rogers comes to attention, and Ross spares a second to hope he'll get it all out before everything goes to hell in a handbasket. "-- I apologize, Sergeant Barnes, for the misidentification that led to you being charged with the crimes later attributed to Helmut Zemo. Those charges have since been dropped."

Barnes blinks in visible surprise, and Ross congratulates himself on keeping a straight face. He lets it hang there in the air between them all before he adds, "Also, thanks for not doing worse than breaking my wrist when you flattened me in the field that day. Everything else that has to do with the Winter Soldier is still a giant fucking mess that we'll have to deal with once Carter's recovered."

Edited 2021-09-14 02:53 (UTC)

"I may be able to help clean up some of that mess," T'Challa tells him, pleased and not trying very hard not to show it.

Everett Ross is a good man. He will listen to reason. T'Challa turns, inviting, and gestures for Ross to join him. "Please, Deputy Commander, walk with me and I will explain our plan... and the White Wolf's presence."

Yelena watches with interest beneath a haughty expression, betraying her thoughts only once – Ross says Carter and she slides a glance to Natasha, who nods minutely.

So that is the mission. She keeps her eyes on Ross as her thoughts spin. Dead is dead... except for Yasha. For Antonia Dreykov. And now, perhaps, except for Sharon Carter, too.

Ross gives them all a disbelieving look and shakes his head as he goes off to join King T'Challa, and once they've moved to a reasonable distance, Yelena meets Natasha's glance once again before moving to plant herself before Yasha, taking in his long hair, the day's worth of stubble on his jaw, the new body armor, the gleaming arm. She sniffs, affecting a blasé expression.

"I like the new arm," she pronounces, then jerks her head over her shoulder at Captain America, who has the faintly stunned look of someone who expected to be in the middle of a fight right now but isn't. "So that's him?"

She turns to the Captain and purses her lips as she rakes a glance over him. "Alexei says 'hi,'" she tells him. "Even though I told him you were a different Captain America. He thinks he fought you in the eighties."

Edited 2021-09-14 11:42 (UTC)

"You'll like the woman who made it, too," Bucky tells her, still half in disbelief at what just happened. Who'd have believed Everett Ross --

-- well. T'Challa had believed it. And he'd been right, at least for now. He'll deal with later when it gets here.

"Alexei?" says Steve, with that particular tone that's like please help me out here, and Bucky finds a small smile.

"Shostakov. The Red Guardian. You won't have met him," he promises Steve. "You were still on ice, no matter who was running around trying to pretend to be you. And he's been in prison since long before you woke up. Or was."

He looks back at Yelena. "Is he still insisting he's 'Russia's only super soldier,' too?"

"Now I know why he never talks," Sam mutters, deliberately clear. "It's because when he does everything he says blows your mind."

Edited 2021-09-14 12:23 (UTC)

Yelena makes a rude sound and tosses her ponytail, her face scrunching. "Of course. He wears the uniform around the house, working with the girls, it is horrifying. Melina loves it."

She makes a gagging sound and glances away from Yasha, meeting the gaze of the other Black man, who is dressed head to toe in garish colors and seems to be fighting a smile. She drags a look up and down him and nods, approving. "I like your outfit."

Sam loses the battle to keep his expression under control and grins at her, bright and exuberant. "Thanks. It's nice to meet you," he says, and Bucky nods.

"Sam Wilson, Yelena Belova. Yelena, that's Sam - don't ask him about the robot bird - and the two women are Nadia and Okoye, and you've already sort of met Steve. Everyone, this is Yelena."

Natasha rolls her eyes. "James, you're still so bad at this." Bucky shrugs. "So? It's better than nothing."

"Don't listen to him," Sam tells Yelena, meanwhile. "You're gonna love Redwing. Everyone does."

"Robot bird? I want to see a robot bird," she demands, and Sam Wilson gives Natasha a smug look, then taps at a hidden control on his wrist. She starts at the sound of a tiny humming engine, then watches, wide-eyed, as a red and silver drone comes zooming out from the jet they're all standing near.

Another command from Wilson and Redwing comes to hover at eye level, giving her the impression that the drone is taking her measure, and she turns to Natasha, mind made up instantly. "I want one!"

"You can't have one," Natasha tells her, but there's something warm in her eyes that Yelena thinks she understands: to want something, to like something, to decide for herself who she trusts and doesn't, is a gift neither of them will ever take for granted.

Wilson looks superior and nods like he knew this would happen. "Like I said," he says, aiming it at Yasha, "everyone loves Redwing."

Bucky rolls his eyes at Sam, and Steve shakes his head and steps forward before the next bombshell - whatever it is - can hit.

"It is nice to meet you, Yelena," he says, as clear and honest as he's ever been. "Thanks for coming. I really appreciate your help. Sharon's a good friend, and she needs us."

Slim chance or not, the choice to talk about Sharon as if she couldn't be anything but alive isn't really a conscious one, and he sees the way it hits his best friend, the quick, grateful look he gives Steve.

Yelena nods. "I am here to help," she says, just in case that wasn't obvious, and feels Natasha's hand settle briefly on her back.

"This is Nakia," Natasha says, leading her over to one of the Black women, dressed similarly to Wilson. "You'll be acting as her bodyguard. James will be undercover as the Winter Soldier, guarding Sam's character."

Nakia holds out her hand and Yelena shakes it, firmly. "Fine," she says, and looks at Yasha. "Будет ли беда?"

"Yes." He thinks he manages to keep it sounding matter-of-fact, but he must not have completely pulled it off, based on the way Steve's jaw sets. "Hopefully not too much. But we're going to be among a mess of backstabbing cutthroats who want to each prove they're top dog."

The disdain flickers in his eyes, although his expression remains coolly assessing. "They'll try to poke. We just have to keep our protectees safe without poking back hard enough that all hell breaks loose."

Yelena looks a little disappointed by the restraints, but nods. "Cool," she says, all American insouciance with a thick Slavic accent. "Sounds fun."

She pats the bag she has slung at her hip and looks at Natasha. "Can I change in the plane?"

"Yes," Natasha tells her. "Need any equipment?" She glances at James.

Bucky trades a look with her and glances over at where Ross and T'Challa are still talking before he turns to Nakia and Okoye. "Full kit okay?"

Nakia nods, and after a second, so does Okoye, before adding, "But she can't keep it."

"Got it," Bucky tells them, and turns to Yelena. "Come on. Let's get you outfitted. They've got stuff in Wakanda the likes of which you won't believe."

She makes a face but acquiesces, re-shouldering her bag as she glances at Nakia. "We can go over our cover when I come back," she says, and the other woman nods, looking amused at something Yelena can't parse. She shrugs and follows Natasha up the ramp into the flyer, disappearing inside just as King T'Challa and Ross come back, having apparently hashed out whatever it was they needed to do.

Once inside, she pauses to look at Natasha and Yasha, standing there side by side, and she abruptly pushes forward to put one arm around each of their necks.

"я скучаю по тебе," she mutters, then tears herself away, sniffing loudly and giving them both a bland look. "Good. Let's get ready to kick some ass."

"I know the feeling," he murmurs, gently, reaching to touch her hair for a second as beside him Natasha puts her arms around Alyona for a quick hug. He remembers what it felt like the first time to see Natasha again in person, standing there in the Wakandan sunshine; remembers what it was like to see Yelena walk in to the impossible place that they all three know, alive and free. "I've missed you too."

Both of them. He leaves it unsaid, and knows that Natasha will recognize the truth threaded through the words. As Yelena pulls back, Bucky finds a smile, and it's real and warm.

"Okay. I've got a few things for you that I think you'll like."

By the time Bucky comes back with Nat and Yelena, Steve's deep in planning with the others, gathered around a projection map of the neighborhood around Selby's bar that Shuri's somehow called up and sent through for them. He makes room without needing to think about it as his best friend comes up on his left side, and goes right back to the discussion.

They've got a while to wait before nightfall. They'll need every minute.

Edited 2021-09-14 16:03 (UTC)

[616] ground zero for trouble

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