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Chapter Text

Prologue

London, England

For an early autumn day, it was slightly chilly and damp. Low, grey clouds hung overhead, constantly threatening more rain, though none manifested yet. It made for a sparse amount of visitors to the graveyard, but Bucky preferred it this way.

It had been quite a long time since he had set foot in London, his missions as the Soviet asset Winter Soldier not counting. While the heart of the city had changed, there were still clear signs of what she had been through. The clearest of them all was this graveyard.

He did not want to return to the city, especially not to the graveyard. The city had too many memories for him. Things that he wanted to be left in the past; of the people he had left behind.

Yet, within those memories were a few tender ones of the city and people. But in the decades that he had served as the Winter Soldier, everything that he knew, loved, cherished, and fought for had been destroyed by his own two hands. Now, freed and given an undeserved second chance, all he could do to atone was to protect the world.

One of which was to find where Sharon Carter had gone.

He barely knew the former SHIELD Agent – hazy memories telling him that he had briefly fought her before. But she was one of Sam’s trusted allies, and occasional informant. At least on the CIA side of things.

Bucky made an effort to steer clear of modern-day spy agencies. After everything that had happened, he was not that keen to use his former skills sets as a spy – or an assassin. Wakanda had thankfully only requested him to serve purely as a soldier in the war against Thanos. After that, they had left him to his own devices.

He looked around the silent, dreary-looking graveyard. Sam was supposed to meet up with Sharon near this place two weeks ago. The excuse was that a certain person of the Carter family was buried in this place, and Sharon typically came here at least once a year to clean the grave.

Groundskeepers kept the pathways and shrubs that bracketed various plinths, trimmed. But with the leaves still falling, there were only so much that the groundskeepers could do to keep each grave clean day after day.

He approached and stopped before the grave of Peggy Carter. She was the only one of the immediate Carter family buried here who had truly lived a full life. Bucky didn’t need the Winter Soldier memories, nor of the obituaries that had been published in 2016, to know she had done so protecting a world without Captain America.

And despite everything he had done as the Winter Soldier, she had faced the decades of the Cold War with unwavering calm and courage. HYDRA had so many opportunities to assassinate Peggy throughout the years she was SHIELD’s Director, but they never took it.

He had never been given the order to kill her.

It was the only reason why Bucky could stomach standing before Peggy’s grave. Why he agreed to Sam’s suggestion to search for any signs of Sharon here, and within the vicinity.

He also knew his friend was also allowing him to take some time to sift through more memories by being here; to come to terms. It was why Sam was several kilometers away, within the heart of the city – potentially recognizable to the crowds, and he was here. Standing in the quiet, even if staring at Peggy’s grave made his stomach turn and guilt flood him.

Because this was the only way Bucky knew how to atone for what he had done—

The snap of a twig underfoot was loud. It was not the noise, but the faint murmurs of Russian that caused Bucky to tear his eyes away from Peggy’s grave.

He narrowed his eyes, stepping away. The faint rustling of clothes came from somewhere to the left of him, about fifty meters away. Instinct told him to quietly slip further away, and hide behind a rather large plinth.

Three seconds later, he saw a group of four men, dressed in slightly ill-fitting suits. Bucky could see the faint outline of pistols hidden within the sides of their jackets. From the outlines, the make and model of the pistols didn’t look modern at all—

The mumbles in Russian stopped as one of the men made an eerily familiar hand signal. The other three nodded once, and followed their leader. Bucky slipped out from hiding and followed.

Those hand signals were specific to Department X – to the Red Room – to the old Soviet regime.

As he passed the area where the men had stepped out, Bucky took a quick glance around the area, but did not see anything out of the ordinary. He returned his attention onto the men, and kept his distance.

They exited the graveyard. It looked like they were headed to a small cafe, but as he waited out the traffic and their crossing, the men passed the cafe – striding into an alleyway. Bucky knew that there was a residential area a few hundred meters down the alleyway. It would be difficult for him to find a good hiding space during this time of day. Nosy neighbors were quiet common, and he was not keen on being caught out.

He made his choice; and quickly closed the distance in the alleyway.

The first two didn’t know what hit them. The other two only managed to widen their eyes, hands scrambling for their pistols within their jackets. Only one managed to dig his hand into his jacket, but didn’t get to wrap his hand around the pistol, before Bucky took all four of them out.

Ten seconds; slower than he was capable of, but he didn’t care. The sound of cars honking and driving by filled the silence. No one in the commercial complex peeked their head out into the alleyway.

Bucky crouched and peeled back one of the men’s jacket flap. The sight of the gun within the shoulder holster confirmed him initial assessment, and worse.

He stood up and pulled out his cell phone. He flipped it open, and dialed a number. “Sam. No sign of Carter, but Peggy’s grave was recently cleaned. I also ran into some trouble at the graveyard.”

“Define trouble.”

“Soviet,” Bucky curtly answered. “1950’s Soviet.”

Silence answered him.

“I’ll be there in ten,” Sam stated.

~*~*~*~

Chapter 1: Tinker/ Возиться с

Berlin, 1953

The sound of the Spree lapping against the hull of the underwater vessel seemed loud, but Steve had to remind himself that it was only because of his enhanced hearing. It sounded loud to him, but in actuality, was similar to the noise of the same river lapping up the bank.

Still, he quickly and quietly closed the hatch to the vessel as soon as the sailor’s head disappeared. Securing the hatch, he gently thumped the hull, and stepped back. Water sloshed around his legs as he watched the unusual vessel – designed and built by SHIELD engineers – silently churn in the water.

The vessel slowly disappeared into the water with barely a sound – only the river’s gentle waves slapping against up against the shore accompanying it. It was only when Steve couldn’t see it anymore that he slowly and carefully walked back up to the banks.

Faint shouts of those who had given chase to the distraction that Bucky had caused, no longer rang up or down the river. It was eerily silent, even though the barking dogs still pierced the air.

Jogging down the damp streets, Steve kept as close to the shadows as possible. Last he had seen, Bucky had been headed this way. He didn’t jump the wall just to leave his best friend behind.

As he came upon a wide intersection, his enhanced hearing afforded him the scrape of soft footsteps. While the faint shouts of policemen and possibly some dogs could be heard further into the East side of Berlin, the faint noise told him that whomever was approaching was not Bucky.

Pressing himself closer to the brick wall, Steve took careful, silent steps forward until he was at the edge of a small alleyway that intersected this narrow road, before the main intersection. Peeking up and down the alleyway, he saw nothing but still-life and still-shadows.

The faint scrape of footsteps continued to approach. Steve crept forward, hearing an additional rustling noise coming from that direction—

He was suddenly jerked to the right; forcibly grabbed and spun into an alcove, like a dance partner twirling across the floor. A cold, metal hand lightly pressed over his mouth, and Steve stilled himself, as he glanced to his right.

Bucky. His best friend had been melted completely into shadow before. Steve had not even seen him when he cleared the alleyway only seconds prior.

Bucky removed his metal hand, as the near-silent scrapes of footsteps started up again. Steve saw him silently bring up his Walther with his right hand. Both Bucky’s right hand and the Walther hovered near Bucky’s face.

Steve glanced down for a brief moment. Bucky’s left fingers flex slightly, hanging loose and ready by his side. He internally winced – it hadn’t been much noise that was made when Bucky yanked him into the alleyway, but there still was noise.

Five seconds later, the footsteps of whomever approached stopped. The faint shouts of police and their dogs could no longer be heard. The whir and buzz of lights that seldom worked properly in this portion of East Berlin was the only sound that filled the air.

Then came the faint cascading click of a hammer being pulled back—

Lightning fast, Steve saw Bucky step out even before the final click fell into place. The enemy had no chance, as he saw Bucky strike like a viper, left hand leading the way. The enemy agent’s gun was crushed even before a shot could be fired, as Bucky pulled the agent into the alleyway at nearly the same time. Steve saw him shove his Walther into the agent’s gut and pull the trigger three times.

The enemy agent stumbled back into the far wall, eyes holding only surprise. Then the agent unceremoniously slid down, leaving a splattering trail of blood on the wall. Steve thought he heard the agent gurgle something that sounded like ‘Winter Soldier’, before going completely still – dead.

For a second, Bucky remained where he was, staring at the agent, before he seemed to snap out of his fugue. As soon as Steve saw him holster his pistol, that was when he also stepped out.

“Chased me for five days around this city,” Bucky murmured. “Persistent and wouldn’t give up even after seeing four of his comrades sniped. Almost forced me to abort the extract.”

“You’re the only one left to extract, Buck,” Steve quietly stated, reaching out. He gently rested his gloved fingertips on the underside of Bucky’s left arm. “Let’s go home.”

“They’re getting better, Steve,” Bucky whispered. “Smarter. More devious.”

Steve didn’t answer Bucky’s statement about enemy agents. They were still in enemy territory, and the longer they lingered, the more danger they were putting themselves in. The debrief – both professional and personal – could come later. When they were out of danger.

Bucky pulled away. Steve watched as Bucky closed the distance to the enemy agent and knelt down. Bucky briefly rifled through the pockets of the agent, finding nothing of interest before standing back up.

“Let’s go home,” Bucky quietly stated.

Steve nodded once, and took off, pace fast. Bucky easily kept up with him. They tore through the streets, flashing in and out of the main roads to get to the bank of the Spree.

Five hundred feet from where the open road met the water’s edge, the East Berlin police caught up to them again. Dogs were set loose, as the shouts of the police – unable to catch their pace – slowly faded. Steve glanced back for a moment and grimly smiled – the police dogs were keeping pace, but only just.

“Deep breaths, we’re going for a swim,” he huffed, as the darkened edge of the Spree greeted them.

“Right behind you,” Bucky answered.

Three seconds later, Steve leapt up and into the river. Cold, along with the shock of his fast landing into the river cut through him. But he dared not fight for the breath of air or swim to the surface just yet.

He could barely see Bucky’s outline in the dark river – and it was only because of the currents, and a sharp tug on his uniform that he knew Bucky was there beside him. Quickly snapping a cord out from his utility belt, he handed the end to Bucky.

Two taps on his shoulder a couple of seconds later was enough to tell him that Bucky had secured the cord to his own utility belt. Steve kicked with all of his might as swam towards where he had estimated the small, highly advanced, SHIELD-designed and built submarine was.

He could feel the currents change as he continued to swim, and to his relief, he soon saw the dark outline of what looked to be the neck for the submarine hatch. Grabbing onto the rail, he twisted open the wheel. With Bucky’s help, they opened the upper hatch – pre-flooded with water, per the operation.

Swimming into the hatch, Steve closed it with Bucky’s help again, before Bucky detached the cord that kept them from drifting apart in the river. Steve was already diving lower, well aware that his lungs were beginning to burn from the lack of air.

Finding the mechanism to activate the drain valve was a little difficult, given that there were no lights. However, he had already memorized the schematics, and found it after a few precious seconds of orienting himself. He pressed the button and heard the mechanisms within the submarine begin to grind.

Twenty seconds later, both he and Bucky gasped for air, as the water within the escape trunk began to recede. A full minute-and-a-half later, both he and Bucky were standing on the edges of the interior hatch, cold, wet, but nevertheless alive. Remnants of the Spree’s water dripped upon them from above.

Steve knelt down and knocked a pattern into the hatch. Several seconds later, he could hear the mechanisms being twisted. Then, the hatch was pushed open. Steve grabbed the ring and lifted it fully up.

“Permission to board, ma’am?”

“Granted, Captain Rogers and Agent Barnes,” the commander of the submersible, Maggie Hill, stated.

Hill was initially a civilian who had spent the better part of the war free-diving in both the Atlantic and Pacific coasts to disable shallow mines. Steve had heard some of the people in the higher echelons of Pacific Command refer to her as ‘Miss Dolphin’, for her help among the Allied Navies. When the call went out, it had surprisingly been former SSR Chief Thompson who had recruited her for SHIELD.

Steve hadn’t worked with her prior to this operation, but he had heard of her meteoric rise within the ranks of SHIELD’s field agents. Through his infrequent contact with Philips, he had learned about Hill’s rise to command the first advanced, experimental stealth submarine within a river. Of course, he wasn’t ignorant to the old wives tales of women on ships being bad luck – but thus far, their luck in executing this mission held.

He and Bucky climbed down, locking the hatch behind them. It didn’t escape Steve’s notice that more than a few personnel in the immediately vicinity were staring at the two of them. But most of those looks were directed at Bucky.

Even technically retired from active duty, Steve heard the rumors.

In the past four years, Bucky’s reputation as a bold and fearless SHIELD agent had grown ten-fold. SHIELD branches knew his name, and with it, the weight of authority that SHIELD-Europe carried. That they knew that Division Chief Peggy Carter was deadly serious about SHIELD’s intent whenever she sent Bucky in her stead.

At the same time, the reputation of the Winter Soldier alone had grown as well – as a force to be reckoned with by enemies who had ill intent with the various 0-8-4s found. It had gotten to the point where an agent who had recently been behind enemy lines, had stated that an operation that was supposed to be carried out by proxy Soviet forces – to steal a 0-8-4 from a temporary SHIELD holding facility – was scrubbed. That someone had mentioned the mere name of the Winter Soldier in a briefing – and it was enough to kill the operation.

All of it helped solidified SHIELD’s reputation for being a peacekeeping force. An organization designed and deployed to contain and resolve situations dealing with unknown elements. An organization whose first responsibility was to protect the people of the world.

An organization that did not bow to the whims of politicians, no matter what side of the ‘Cold War’ they were on.

It also allowed SHIELD to rarely deploy Steve, whenever the need called for it. It was to ensure that even if he still went by the call-sign of ‘Captain America’, SHIELD’s interests were not governed by the United States.

Per his agreement with Philips and all other SHIELD Division Chiefs, Steve was only reactivated for Level 1 situations. It needed all Division Chiefs and Philips’ agreement as well – to be considered a Level 1.

Bucky and the extraction of several SHIELD agents in Berlin today was one of the three times since 1949 that he, Steve, had been reactivated. Even then, Steve always minimized his presence within the field. The world had to learn to live with the fact that ‘Captain America’ was not going to solve their problems with fighting – they needed to come to the negotiation table.

At present, Hill stated, “Cochran is being seen to by the corpsmen. No updates on her condition yet.”

Steve nodded. Agent Cochran had been shot and wounded as Steve, Bucky and the small team of SHIELD agents made their way to the banks of the Spree. The ambush by East Berlin forces and Cochran wounded had spurred Bucky to run interference, and draw away the pursuit.

Steve accepted a thick towel from one of the crew. Due to the size of the submarine, there was only one medic – corpsman – instead of a doctor onboard.

“ETA?” he asked drying his hair and his clothes as best as he could. He followed Hill to the center of the command deck where marked maps were spread out.

“Holding depth and course, and provided that radar does not pick up mines, thirty minutes, sir,” Hill answered.

“Good,” he said, looking at the various spots on the river elevation map that Hill had pointed to.

“If I may say, sir,” Hill surprisingly spoke up, tone conversational. Steve managed to contain his surprise – Hill had not been one to talk much even before the mission started.

“On behalf of the crew, we’d like to welcome you home, sirs,” she respectfully stated. “It was good to see Captain America and the Winter Soldier working together in the field again. We’re proud to serve and defend Humanity with both of you. Thank you, for inspiring us to do and be better.”

Steve accepted the praise with grace, even as he felt the heat of embarrassment rise under the collar of his uniform. A quick glance over to Bucky had him seeing a similar reaction.

It had been four years since the SSR dissolved and SHIELD was raised. Four years of relative peace amid rising tensions between the US and Soviet Union, and their proxy countries – without HYDRA machinations.

Even then, Steve thought that perhaps the future would not be as cruel as it had been from the timeline he was from.

* * *

London, 2020s…

“Hair,” Sam’s comment caused Bucky to glance up from where he was crouched. He placed the pieces of the taken-apart pistol he had been examining, down.

“That, and oh yeah,” his friend continued to say with a strained smile on his face. “They’re really good at hiding it, but damn, I can pick out the hatred they have for me. Or rather, the color of my skin.”

“Eyes,” Sam declared a moment later. “Wow… hated eyes indeed. My Ma told me that the discrimination in the US was nothing, compared to what she experienced growing up in the Diplomatic Corps.”

As much as Bucky wanted to hiss at Sam for revealing even that much about himself to the four men sitting on the ground, he held his tongue. Sam had bald-faced lied in front of the men; with enough conviction that he could see them lapping it up.

The intruders were bound tight and gagged. Weapons had been stripped from them while unconscious, and all pistols were disassembled.

Considering what he had initially observed, Bucky was not surprised at just how much small, concealed weaponry the four carried. They were their country’s agents – assassins, if he wanted to go that far – and certainly not from around here.

Or time.

Stripping the agents of their weapons had revealed that the clothing they wore was too new, too superficial. Haircuts too fresh, with not enough time to let it grow slightly out, naturally. Weight too light for what people they were supposed to be portraying.

Somehow, Soviet agents from the 1950’s had ended up here in London – in the 2020s. Bucky was well aware of the famine that had gripped the Soviet Union in the late 1940s had caused mass starvation. Even those agents formerly insulated in the echelons of Soviet intelligence had not been immune.

These agents sitting on the ground bore the hallmarks of surviving that terrible period of famine. Bucky was slightly glad that what memories he had of that period, were relegated to experimentation at the hands of his captors.

He caught Sam’s eyes on him. The agents were straining to follow Sam’s eyes, but could not move from where they were sitting. Bucky had driven four thick, metal stakes into the concrete floor, tying the ropes to the looped stakes tightly.

“Surface-only, Sam,” he quietly stated. The agents perked with his voice – looking more alert than they had only a few moments ago.

“They’re trained to infiltrate and blend in,” he continued.

Sam frowned. “Guess the Captain America uniform ain’t doing any wonders either.”

“Not really,” he agreed.

“Should we call—”

“No,” Bucky interrupted. He walked over. “Not quite yet.”

He expected the agents’ eyes to widen. Fear was alighted in their eyes. Yet, it was not the fear he had expected.

“They know you,” Sam softly commented.

Then, one of the agents made a muffled noise through his gag. Another rocked back and forth, as if briefly contemplating that he could get free from the thick ropes that bound him. Free enough to quickly flee.

“What?” Sam questioned.

“He said ‘Winter Soldier’,” Bucky stated, a mirthless smile twitching up his lips. It only made the four agents ever more fearful. The rocking one straining even more – determined to get away.

Pure, unadulterated fear.

He hadn’t seen that kind of look in anyone’s eyes since 2014 – fighting Natasha Romanov in the streets of DC as the Winter Soldier. But his memories were full of that same blinding, choking fear in the eyes of his victims.

And yet, he knew he should have immediately walked away. Should not have placed his right arm up to ward Sam from taking a step or saying something about it. Something about these Soviet agents stirred a compulsion within him to remain where he was.

Soviet agents in the 1950s knew of his reputation, but they didn’t know what he looked like. His handlers had been extremely careful in making sure they cultivated his reputation – and that no one outside of the Red Room could identify him.

These agents… they knew him by face…

The litany of curses that floated through his mind threatened to erupt from his lips. He immediately pulled out the burner phone that Romanov had given to him before she left.

Stabbing the button to dial the number, he held it to his ears, all the while pulling out his sidearm—

“Hey, man—” Sam began.

“Barnes,” Natasha’s curt voice came over the line at the same time.

Bucky rattled off the exact address, right down to the floor and cardinal location within the building they were in. Then he hung up, shoved the phone into a compartment and aimed his pistol at the four men.

He pulled the trigger four times.

His fourth shot missed the fourth man’s knee – Sam’s forceful yank on his left arm had been enough to displace his aim. The bullet landed just a hair below the man’s left kneecap.

The result was still the same – muffled howls of agony coming from the agent. It mixed in with the others. But audibly, Bucky knew that no one could hear them outside of the building.

He yanked his left hand from Sam’s grip – forcibly, but not enough to break Sam’s arms. Holstering his pistol, he stalked down the rickety stairs. He had to get back to the graveyard fast—

“Hey!” Sam’s angry shout was biting.

Bucky allowed himself to be yanked by his flesh-and-blood arm. He spun around. “Not here,” he bit out before Sam could launch into his tirade.

“Not here?!” Sam hissed, ignoring him. “No fucking way you get a pass for what bullshit you just did back there, Barnes! The hell was that? Enemy spies or not, you do not—”

“I said, not here,” he repeated, nearly growling his words.

“Fuck you, Barnes! You do not fucking walk away from this,” Sam swore. “Fucking break my arms if you have to, but you’re not going anywhere—”

Bucky clenched his teeth. They were apparently going to do this here and now.

He let go of the raw, hot anger, and held his hands up. At nearly the same time, he partially shook Sam’s grip on him. “Fine,” he bit out. “There’s a portal of sort in that graveyard. Those men aren’t just from the 50s, Sam. They’re specifically from Steve’s 1950s.”

Sam blinked, gobsmacked into silence for five blessed seconds. “How—”

“No one, and I mean absolutely no one, except for my handlers and those within the Red Room, knew who I was – what the Winter Soldier looked like. Those agents—” Bucky stabbed to his left “—they’re Spetsnaz. None of them ever had clearance or knowledge of what went on in Department X.”

“There are a lot of alternate universes—” Sam started.

At once, the anger, the rising panic, the need to get back to the graveyard momentarily fled from Bucky. He didn’t want it to be true, but he didn’t how know else to say it. “Sam,” he calmly began, lowering his arms. “You read my file. You know what I was. Can you…”

He paused, blowing a noisy breath out of his nose. “Can you imagine that what you grew up in, in this timeline would’ve been like without HYDRA? Without—”

“Dude,” Sam interrupted, shaking his head slightly as Bucky felt him finally let go of his flesh-and-blood arm. “I just don’t want to think that you’re still the Winter Soldier, if what you’re saying is true. That you’re that boogeyman—”

Bucky’s tired expression crumpled ever so slightly. “He’s me, Sam,” he sadly stated. “I’m him.”

Thankfully, Sam did not argue with him this time. It was argument that periodically popped up ever since Steve had returned from living his life in full, and passed on the shield.

“Fuck man,” the black man said, shaking his head. “Fuck.”

“Language,” he softly admonished.

A bitter bark of laughter emerged from Sam’s lips. “Go do what you need to do. I’ll be here, cleaning up the mess with Nat.”

“I could use another pair of eyes at the graveyard,” Bucky stated in a neutral tone.

He knew Romanov would not be happy about what he had done to the agents, but his call to her enacted a long-dormant Red Room Protocol. He wasn’t going to look for forgiveness from Romanov, but considering the time she spent ‘dead’ and locked in the Soul Stone while assisting Steve, she needed to know.

Sam wasn’t happy with that suggestion. Steve had done right in passing the shield to Sam – their friend had all the qualities: compassion, integrity, honor, and more. Everything good that anyone embodying the name and ideals of Captain America should have.

But the graveyard was enormous, and he didn’t know where exactly the agents had come from – other than seeing and hearing them from where he had been. Sam covering the air would enable faster detection to where the anomaly was – and how the agents had arrived.

Sam sighed. “Where do you want me to start?”

* * *

London, 1953…

It was the creak of a chair outside of her office, that caused Peggy to look up from the thick report she had been reading. That creak was immediately followed by the polite inquiry of, “Still here burning the midnight oil, Meredith?”

“Only for a little while longer, Alex—” she heard her secretary begin. “Ah,” Meredith Lorraine continued, “and here is my ride home.”

Peggy could hear the faint chatter of the two, and the third person who had arrived to pick up and drop her secretary off at her home – Dottie Underwood. The noise of coats being put on, along with bags being clipped and secured briefly filled the air. Then came the knock on her door.

“Enter,” she answered.

At the same time, the black phone on her desk rang – its shrill piercing the air. Both Dottie and Lorraine had poked their heads in. Alex had done so as well, though he moved further in, carrying a bag of take-out with him.

“Carter, go,” Peggy answered the phone. The red one, situated next to the black one, was not used unless it was an emergency.

“Jonah has been swallowed by the whale,” was all the switchboard operator on the end of the line stated.

“Copy,” she curtly stated, before hanging up.

While unlikely to be tapped between the switchboard operator and her phone, Peggy tended to keep her conversations short on the black line. Wiretapping had gotten a lot more sophisticated in the past four years since SHIELD had been raised.

“Good news?” Alex asked.

“The Berlin extraction operation was a success. They’re on their way to the safe house,” she answered, smiling.

“That’s great news, Peggy!” Dottie exclaimed.

At the same time Alex cheered. Lorraine, ever composed as she was, merely nodded and smiled. That smile, however, did reach into Lorraine’s eyes. Peggy knew it meant that she was genuinely happy as well.

“All right,” she said, clasping her hands together. “Go off and enjoy the rest of your night, Dottie. You as well, Meredith. As much as I appreciated the two of you working past hours, no more ‘burning the midnight oil’. Our agents are returning home, and you can bet that they’ll flood the Analysts with their information.”

“Will do, Peggy,” Dottie said, grinning.

“Have a good night, ma’am,” Lorraine said, before the two departed.

Left with Alex, he closed the door and approached, holding the bag of take-out up. “Still interested in this, or do you want to go out to celebrate?”

“I’ll take that, thank you very much. I’m starving enough as-is, and don’t have the patience to wait thirty minutes more,” she said, leaving her desk for the small couch and coffee table near her desk. Alex followed and set the bag down.

Less than a minute later, Peggy bit into the most wonderful food that she had ever tasted – even if it was just a simple meal of spaghetti and meatballs. Beside her, Alex laughed, but there was no doubt that he was just as hungry as she was. Both of their schedules and demands of their duties left little time to find or eat a proper meal.

It was only half-way through her meal that Peggy’s memory was jogged. She paused and placed the styrofoam container on the table. “Didn’t you have a date tonight?” she asked.

“No,” Alex answered, frowning slightly. “Peggy, if this is your way of saying that I should be getting a life outside of the medical labs, it’s not working. I still like where I am. I’m not ready to move on yet—”

“I know, and I’m sorry, Alex,” she stated, reaching out to briefly embrace her younger brother.

Though older than her when he had returned after going missing for six months, Peggy still considered Alex Carter her young brother. He was born in mid 1948, their mother unexpectedly getting pregnant by their father. It was by pure accident that ten months ago, when she and Steve had visited her parents and then-four-year-old Alex, that Alex had wandered into an unexpected 0-8-4 in the park’s playground.

Steve had been the one to see Alex go into the playground slide, but never emerge. He had alerted her and her parents, checked all over the playground, before putting on his technologically advanced uniform. Whatever sensors were within that uniform from the 2020s, it was enough to detect the sliver of what used to be a 0-8-4 within the slide.

That frequency signature was captured, but the search for Alex had hit dead end after dead end. Until four months ago. When the same frequency manifested in the now-closed playground – and deposited Alex.

Older, much older at thirty-eight years of age, Alex returned changed from whatever reality he had fallen into and grown up in. SHIELD’s medical research teams had determined that Alex was indeed, the same Alex who had disappeared – and that he was not carrying any sort of biological threats within his blood.

Yet, Alex talked little about his experience, or the reality he grew up in. He was content to remain as a civilian employed by SHIELD as a medical researcher. Because of what he had been through, and because Peggy was worried, she had requested that he remain attached to SHIELD-Europe. He had not complained about the posting.

Peggy tried to integrate him back to life, but it was Steve who advised that he be allowed the freedom to move at his own pace. She heeded his advice, after he explained that he saw some similarities in the expression of psychological trauma to his former reality’s Bucky. Alex needed time to come to terms in being ripped from a life he had in the other reality, versus the original one he was from.

Thus, whenever she had time, she invited him over for dinner with her and Steve. There were a couple of times in the past four months since his return, that Peggy had seen him give Steve an odd look. But that look always quickly disappeared before she could call her brother out on it. Peggy could only surmise that perhaps in the reality that Alex disappeared into, there was a version of Steve there.

“I forgive you,” he answered, bringing Peggy back to the present – and what was left of her meal.

They continued to eat in relative silence until they were both done. “Thank you, for bringing food, Alex,” she said, packing up the foam container back into the bag.

“It was something I did often for your counterpart in the other reality,” Alex quietly answered. “The two of you… always working so late, so much… always protecting the world even when her icons live and do the same.”

Peggy stared at her brother, blinking in surprise. This was the first time she had ever heard him speak of his experiences in the other reality. As much as she wanted to speak up and ask about her apparent counterpart in the other reality, she didn’t.

“Let’s take a walk?” Alex asked, breaking the silence. “As a doctor, I have to tell you that the sedentary lifestyle you’ve cultivated here isn’t doing you any favors.”

“I do get out and run around enough, especially when Steve and Bucky aren’t here,” she said, smiling. Nonetheless, she stood up and followed her brother out.

“I know,” he answered, leading her to the elevators.

It took a moment for one to arrive, but instead of heading to ground level, she saw her brother hit the button for the research and development floor. Curious, she remained silent, but he wasn’t forth coming. She knew he worked on both the R&D, along with the actual medical floor – though as of late, his time spent were more research on analyzing and containing dangerous 0-8-4s, than attending to the medical side of things.

At the entrance to the R&D labs, Alex stopped. “After what happened a month ago with that 0-8-4, David… erm, Dr. Brewster, approached me with some ideas. Ideas to combine the engineering development he’s been researching and implementing, with the medical side of things from that 0-8-4. We have a working prototype.”

Peggy smiled, though she couldn’t help but ask, “How much help did Howard contribute?”

“Surprisingly not a lot,” Alex said, pushing the doors open. There were not a lot of people in the labs, but David Brewster, an old friend and brilliant engineer from the SSR days, was standing at one corner.

“Mr. Stark was surprisingly uninterested in applying his knowledge to the engineering side of things,” Alex continued. “David,” her brother called out as they approached. “Ready for a demonstration?”

“Yes,” the engineer said, enthused. “But, before we show you what this does, I think maybe some background might be needed.”

Peggy nodded for her friend to continue. David’s eyes were bright and his explanation of the device was given in much simpler terminology than what Howard usually briefed. With Stark Industries growing, Howard himself had little time to devote his attention to every single aspect of SHIELD Engineering.

Yet, Howard still had a strange fancy for ‘helping’ David Brewster’s projects within SHIELD. David had been Howard’s former protege during the SSR days. Considering what Peggy was hearing about how the device worked, she had to agree with her brother on Howard’s strange lack of interest in the development of the device.

At the same time, she couldn’t help but notice a fondness settling in her brother’s eyes. It was well-hidden, but had she not been trained to read people, she wouldn’t have picked it up. Ever since his unusual return and aged-up appearance, she hadn’t seen her brother interact with other SHIELD personnel except in a courteous, professional, if not aloof manner. Even Lorraine’s observations about her brother confirmed that distance.

To see even a glimmer of whatever this fondness towards David meant, heartened her. Her brother may be reticent towards everyone else, but there was at least one friend he had, within SHIELD.

From the wreckage that her and Alex’s older brother had caused to the intelligence community as a whole, Peggy knew that they were lucky to have survived thus far. By rights, with everything Michael had carried back, she, along with countless of other agents should have been forcibly retired.

Yet, SHIELD had been raised. Philips had convinced the United Nations that the intent was peaceful – that compromised or not, they needed the expertise in the former SSR agents to carry the mission to protect Humanity out. Steve was a part of that – the knowledge of him being alive still kept relatively secret – even in Soviet circles.

She wanted to think that Michael had not betrayed them, but that was naive. Michael and the rumored Soviet Department X – specifically the Red Room – served the same purpose as SHIELD. Except that their interests were towards Soviet interests in the betterment of Humanity – both ideological and technological.

When Steve had revealed that he had traveled back in time, and changed things, Peggy thought the world would be better without the influence of HYDRA growing in the shadows. That Steve had prevented the ‘Cold War’ between the United States and Soviet Union – and their proxies – from becoming worse.

1953 – it had been four years since Michael betrayed them. Four years since Steve returned the Infinity Stones with help from the spectres of his Avengers friends. Yet, Peggy felt that perhaps this ‘Cold War’ here and now, was more sinister than the memories Steve and his friends had shown and told to them.

* * *

London, 2020s…

“Damn, is this what the one that had been in Siberia look like?”

Bucky shook his head. “No.”

The ‘scar’ that hung in the air before them was almost invisible to the eye. It was situated in the same area that Bucky had peeked into – where the Soviet agents had initially emerged from.

Running from ground to about 3 meters in height – it clearly was made for people to pass through. Sam had been the one to detect it, and even then, the credit went to the little robotic ‘hawk’ Sam named Redwing.

At the present, Redwing’s projection of UV light highlighted the ‘scar’. It barely rippled in the air. No air currents, or even smell emanated from the ‘scar’. Bucky remembered the Siberian portal connecting their world to another looking more menacing – black and blue crackles, clearly defining it. A sharp smell of ozone being burned had defined where the Siberian portal was.

Thankfully, that portal in Siberia no longer existed – blown closed by Wakanda.

Bucky’s attention was briefly diverted as he sensed Romanov’s presence approaching. She was quiet in her footsteps, but he knew that it was only because she was being respectful towards the dead.

“Romanov,” he called out just as she turned the corner.

“Barnes,” she greeted neutrally. Her tone was warmer towards Sam. “Been a while, Sam. I see the two of you are still getting in trouble, no matter where either of you go.”

“Portal to another world, another reality, Nat,” Sam answered, turning to face her, jerking his thumb towards the ‘scar’.

Romanov was silent for a few long seconds. Her eyes focused on Bucky, and Bucky met her gaze with equal intensity. “I had half of mind to come in here and try to hurt you for what you invoked, Barnes,” she stated. Her hands curled into fists for a moment before she opened them.

“I had thought you’d finally snapped. Caused collateral damage that made Sam respond. That you killed Sam—”

“Erm—” Sam began, eyes widening slightly.

“Let me finish, Wilson,” Romanov bit out. Sam wisely remained silent. The former Soviet agent continued, “and then this fucking mess happens. Four Soviet agents, 1950s, in the middle of 2020s London. And now, a portal to explain it away. You missed one in the kneecap.”

“I’m sure that agent is jumping with joy in the afterlife,” Bucky dryly answered.

A dark smirk briefly crept up Romanov’s lips. “They recognized you, didn’t they?”

Bucky nodded once.

Romanov glanced down, a fond look appearing on her face at the same time a bitter smile graced her lips. When she looked up again, there was a melancholic look within her eyes – a decidedly unusual look for a Black Widow to have.

“He’s the Winter Soldier,” she quietly stated. “The Winter Soldier you were supposed to be, Barnes.”

“Nat,” Sam’s warning cut into their conversation. “Don’t do this—”

“Sam,” Bucky said, shaking his head. “I told you. He is me, I am him.” He glanced over at Romanov. “And now, I know what my counterpart is. And what I have to do.”

He heard Sam mutter a small curse. Sam knew what they needed to do – now that it was confirmed by Natasha as well, that the agents were specifically from Steve’s new timeline.

“How much has changed in that reality from history, Nat?” Sam asked.

Natasha shook her head. “Take the Winter Soldier out of Soviet and HYDRA hands, and its a brave new world.”

“But he’s still known as that in Steve’s timeline,” Sam flatly stated.

“If given a chance to do over, I’d take the same route as my counterpart has done,” Bucky quietly admitted. “That name, and the chance to carve the reputation I want from it.”

Sam shook his head slightly. “I don’t like this, man. But… this might be our best lead to finding Sharon.”

“Still nothing new from Senior Agent Ross,” Natasha stated. “My other contacts haven’t found anything either.”

“Ground rules?” Bucky suggested.

“You know me too well,” Sam agreed, lips twitching up in a sardonic smile. “But,” Sam continued after a moment, “it’s also for your sake, Bucky.”

“I know, and thanks,” he answered.

“I’ll stay here and hold the fort,” Natasha declared. “See if I can get some assistance from my contacts to block off this area for a while. My bird’s just been restocked, so take what you think you need.”

“Short recon only,” Sam stated. “Redwing will clear the area first. Then we see where we are. See if we can find initial information on the situation, and where Sharon may be. We don’t know how different Steve’s 1950s will be from your memories. Agreed?”

Bucky nodded once. “Agreed.”

“Second trip is only to rescue Sharon – if she’s in Soviet hands. I may not know a lot about time travel, but even I know that crossing streams – especially Steve’s stream – is bound to cause complications,” Sam continued.

Bucky nodded. What had happened when Ghost Rider pulled the two of them, along with Clint and a few other Avengers into that massive battle against multiple Thanos was dangerous. It had taken all of Bucky’s will and then more not to break down at the fact that Steve was alive.

That his best friend looked only slightly older – and happier – than when he had left 2023.

That Steve was still in the middle of living his life to the fullest.

That letting Steve go in 2023 had been the hardest thing he had ever done – yet he had done so.

And that seeing Steve sitting on that bench, an old man, fulfilled in life – only to see him peacefully pass away days after that.

“If we find Sharon, Sam will bring her back—”

“Oh, don’t you dare, Bucky,” Sam angrily began. “You are not going to make a last stand or some stupid shit like that there. You’re coming back to this reality, regardless of how many Soviet or other enemy forces pounce on us.”

“Sam, he has a better chance of surviving—” Romanov surprisingly said in Bucky’s defense.

“Super-soldier or not—” Sam argued.

“It’s not about him being a super-soldier. It’s about him surviving and blending into the Soviet regime. He can do that. We both can. We both lived through those times,” Romanov stated.

“But that timeline is altered.”

“And there are still some elements that are the same, from what we’ve seen in the four agents,” she answered. “Sharon comes home first – with you, Sam. With what happened as of late, you know that we need Captain America here.”

“We also need White Wolf here,” Sam stated, tone definitive.

Bucky caught Sam’s angry look on him. “Friends don’t leave friends behind. Battle buddies stick together, and you might think that its impossible to atone for what you’ve done, but you’re wrong. You’ve been doing good work. Affecting the world for the better. You don’t get a fucking free pass to go die in another reality Barnes. You’re coming home, even if I have to make Redwing bind you and drag your ass to the portal.”

Bucky flexed his left metal fingers for a moment, but did not curl his hand into a fist. He met Sam’s look without flinching. Yes, he did think it was impossible to atone for what he had done through seven decades.

You are not a monster, Bucky. You never were. You defend the innocent, speak for those oppressed, those who need help, and those who can't fight. You are a winter soldier who is ever vigilant in his defense of life and liberty. You are not a weapon.

Steve’s words – said to him years ago after they were reunited – still haunted his memories. He kept them in his mind, in his heart for all of these years, hoping that those words would continue guide him.

But the stain, the reputation that he had wrought as the Winter Soldier lingered; impossible to erase from others’ memories. An impossible task to atone for—

“Finish what you started here, Barnes,” Natasha suddenly spoke up. “Then—”

“Nat—” Sam warned.

“Can’t die yet,” Bucky interrupted, nodding once. “Not until the reputation of the White Wolf balances the blood spilled by the Winter Soldier – of this reality.”

“Damn straight,” Sam agreed.

* * *

SHIELD safe house, West Berlin, 1953 …

“You know, he knew you. Your pal, your buddy, your Bucky.”

“What did you say?”

“He remembered you. I was there. He got all weepy about it ‘til they put his brain back in the blender. He wanted you to know something. He said to me, ‘Please tell Rogers… when you gotta go, you gotta go.’ And you’re coming with me—”

Steve awoke with a start, gasping for just a moment. The last vestiges of the nightmare, of Rumlow pulling the pin and unleashing the explosive, only to be enveloped in Wanda’s powers, faded.

He shivered once, and slid out from under the blanket that covered him. Carefully and quietly, he got up and shuffled his way to the bathroom.

He shut the door as silently as he could. It didn’t help that the floors were creaky, and door hinges squeaky. Steve turned on the lights and slowly sat on the ground, back against the door. He quietly sighed in frustration.

Hill and her skeleton crew had gotten them to West Berlin with out incident. Steve led the rest of them to the safe house; except for the agent who had been shot. Cochran had remained with Hill and her team, unable to be moved.

Steve had called for a med-evac when the submarine was confirmed to be in safe territory. It would delay the extraction of him and the other agents, as Soviet agents and their proxies would most definitely get wind of the med-evac. But, the safe house was stocked, and all they had to do was to lay low until the hubbub faded.

At the present, the rescued agents were all doubled up in the rooms within the safe house; most sound asleep knowing that they were back in friendly territory. Yet, Steve knew that any strange or sharp noise would wake them up; the agents still wired tight and frosty until they were able to fully readjust to a normal life.

His nightmares constantly woke him up. He knew that just his harsh breaths while in the throes of the nightmare had already disturbed Bucky’s sleep. It had been a constant refrain during the war whenever they slept in foxholes together.

At this very moment, he didn’t want to face his best friend, or have him come into the bathroom.

With Peggy, it was different. Without fail, she came into the bathroom about a minute after he woke up, and silently held him as they sat in the bathroom. She held him until his shivering, his nightmares went away.

All of his nightmares never involved her – he didn’t have any that she was ever in. Whereas, Bucky – even just the mention of his name – were in most of his nightmares.

Steve sighed again, and looked up. Rumlow’s words, the screams, and the explosions still echoed in his ears, but the longer he stared at the blank ceiling, the more the noise faded. It was the past, his past for him, and a future that would never happen here…

Sitting in the bathroom made him feel calmer. He would probably not be able to go to sleep – at least a restful sleep – when he returned to bed. But he knew that staying in the bathroom would only cause Bucky to worry more. He did not come all the way to East Berlin and rescue his best friend, just to end up making Bucky worried about him.

Slowly standing up, Steve quietly shut the lights and exited the bathroom. He expected Bucky to be awake, and saw that his eyes were open and on him. Steve shook his head once, before heading to the other side of the bed.

He slipped under the cover again, and laid there on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep wasn’t coming to him. He could feel Bucky shift, but didn’t glance over—

“What—” Steve started, feeling Bucky’s hands on his arms, before he was hauled up.

“Shut up and let me do this, Steve,” Bucky’s gruff, but strangely tender voice caused him to look up and over.

It was short lived as Bucky shifted to sit up near the center of the bed, before Steve felt himself being tucked against him. His best friend gently pressed his head down against his chest. Steve heard Bucky’s steady heart beat.

“Comfortable?” Bucky asked after a moment.

Steve wanted to move away, but the protective, warm arm that Bucky had wrapped around him as he laid there, tucked against the warmth of Bucky’s body, was too inviting. It brought back memories of old – memories of Bucky doing this so many times before whenever he visited when he, Steve, had been sick.

Unable to go to sleep because of persistent coughing, but exhausted from fighting the illnesses that wracked him, Bucky did the same as he did now. Tuck him close, sharing warmth and the soothing sound of a steady heartbeat as Steve laid his head against Bucky’s chest. But back then, Bucky always left some time during his sleep.

Steve always found his mother watching over him whenever he woke up.

Steve shifted, but it was not away. It was only to make himself more comfortable. Taut muscles, covered by the thin shirt Bucky wore to sleep, shifted slightly wherever Steve pressed himself again.

Steve had seen those muscles ripple in light – harsh, artificial light and warm sunlight – before. He knew what they looked like, had even drawn them over and over again, but never reached out and touched—

He felt Bucky tighten his hold around him slightly, and dashed the voyeuristic thoughts away. This was the now, not the past; the ring on his finger a reminder of the promise – of the vow, Bucky always insisted – that was made to Peggy.

Steve settled down and listened to Bucky’s soothing, steady heartbeat.

“Yeah,” he said, finding himself being lulled to sleep as the minutes passed.

“Not going anywhere, punk,” Bucky whispered, wrapping the blankets around them. Steve blinked some more in sleepiness, as soothing warmth enveloped him. “Not like before,” he heard him continue to say.

“I know,” he mumbled, unable to keep his eyes open. “End… of…”

“The line. Forward and together.” Bucky’s affirmation was the last thing he heard.

Steve slept; dreamless.

When he next awoke, he didn’t feel as tired as he usually did after a night of uneasy sleep or nightmares. Instead, it was within a cocoon of warmth, of a continued steady heartbeat, and of the comforting weight of Bucky’s arm wrapped around him. Steve felt Bucky’s fingers brushing lightly against his upper arm.

It had been that gentle touch that woke him up.

“0700, Steve,” Bucky said, as Steve lifted his head off Bucky’s chest for a few moments. “Figured you’d want to wake up and take a shower before the rest of the gang decides to wake up and storm the master bathroom.”

“Hmm,” he said, laying his head back down and making himself comfortable again. “Half hour more sleep then. They can fight over the other one down the hall for a half-hour.”

“Captain Steven Grant Rogers, laziest soldier in the US Army,” Bucky teased.

“Only because SHIELD Senior Agent James Buchanan Barnes is a very comfortable pillow,” he retorted.

“Thanks, Steve,” Bucky said, chuckling. “I’ve been reduced from intelligence officer to pillow. A great career move.”

Steve hummed his agreement. “There are benefits to this career move that you haven’t considered, Agent.”

“Is there?” came the teasing retort. “Do tell, Captain.”

“You lay in bed all day, don’t have to move, less paperwork, people bring you stuff—”

“You haven’t brought me shit, Steve,” Bucky laughed. “Not even a glass of water so far.”

Steve snorted in laughter, nearly turning his face into Bucky to do so. The scent of his best friend was a soothing one – a familiar one that always toyed with him. He always wondered if circumstances had been wholly different between them, that he hadn’t met Peggy—

He abruptly dashed away that thought.

“Hey, you all right?” Bucky’s question brought Steve out of his brief musing.

“Yeah,” he answered, turning his head slightly up to see Bucky glancing down at him. “Not a lot of chance at being wounded or nearly dying, laying here…”

Steve hadn’t meant for that to come out in such a melancholic tone. But the mood between them was ruined. As soon as he felt Bucky tighten his hold around him ever so slightly, Steve sat up.

But, he didn’t push away.

Bucky’s arm around him remained there, as they sat side-by-side on the bed, backs against the headboard. Bucky slid his arm down after a few seconds, resting his hand against Steve’s hip.

Steve managed to conceal his shiver when Bucky did that.

“Why’d you miss the first extract, Bucky?” Steve asked, using the question, and his picking at the blankets that now pooled at both of their waists, as a distraction.

“Found something,” Bucky stated. Steve felt him pull his arm away from being around him, as Bucky then leaned forward, drawing his knees up to his chest. “Found the beginnings of something big enough that I couldn’t leave.”

Bucky wasn’t looking at him anymore. His best friend had his arms wrapped around his knees. Instead, Steve saw the faraway look in his eyes as Bucky continued to say, “It wasn’t just about getting all of those compromised agents out. What I discovered can change the course of this Cold War – for the world. Possibly ignite it. I found intelligence about the resurrected Department X, about the Red Room. About the Soviet capabilities with their fantastical weapons. About Wolf Spider.”

“We’ll eventually catch him, Buck,” Steve said, reaching forward and placed a soothing hand on Bucky’s shoulder.

He knew that Bucky wouldn’t ever tell him what the information was – not even in a SHIELD safe house. Even though the house had been swept for bugs, it was still too easy to listen into sensitive conversations. Steve was not a neophyte in this world of espionage, and neither was Bucky.

1953 – it had been just a little over four years since Michael Carter, confirmed to be a turned agent and code named Wolf Spider – had escaped. Analysts were still going through the many scenarios that facilitated when exactly Michael had turned, how he had escaped, and a whole host of other things associated with the Wolf Spider.

Four years since the SSR had become SHIELD. And the Cold War had escalated more quickly than Steve remembered reading about. The Berlin Wall had been completed six months ago – contributing to Bucky’s extended stay in the East until yesterday. Checkpoints were scrutinized even more, and proxy conflicts being headed by the United States and Soviet Union were erupting every few months.

Steve knew that a part of that escalation was due to the information that Michael carried back across enemy lines to his handlers – on SSR operations, structure, and modus operandi. It was also why SHIELD was born and ushered into the light with little to no fuss.

But, Philips, attached to the United Nations as ‘SHIELD Envoy’, had been adamant to ensure that SHIELD did not become the militaristic scientific organization that Steve knew it had become in countless of other realities and timelines. Philips made sure that SHIELD was deployed only when 0-8-4s were confirmed.

Of course, more than a few countries had taken advantage of that clause to try to get SHIELD to fight their proxy conflicts – the United States included – but, that was why small one or two-man teams were deployed first to assess and confirm when there were no overt evidence of a 0-8-4. Bucky usually volunteered for the duty when it was in a dangerous region. Steve made sure that when he could, he was dropped with Bucky.

That had only happened twice before.

The Soviet Union had their equivalent in the form of the resurrected Department X, and the Red Room agents. Yet, neither he, nor Bucky had ever encountered Michael in the field since 1949. Red Room agents that both of them encountered functioned similar to a hybrid mix of the SSR mentality and SHIELD know-how.

If there was a Cold War heating up between the United States and Soviet Union, there certainly was a parallel one between SHIELD and the Red Room. Steve had no doubt that Michael was either the unseen leader, or had a high position within Department X. Some of the tactics deployed were directly countered to Peggy’s tactics.

In this aspect, Steve knew that it wasn’t his forte – he was better at military tactics and strategy, than espionage. All he could do for the past four years as Peggy played this cat-and-mouse game against her traitor of a brother, was be there for her.

At the same time, he also was there for Bucky.

Michael had hurt Bucky badly enough that Steve sometimes found himself worrying about his friend’s mental state. Bucky threw himself into mission after mission – his dedication to the cause and to SHIELD almost fanatical, in Steve’s opinion.

Most recently, Bucky’s stint in the East was supposed to be an extract of compromised agents of not only SHIELD, but several other NATO-allied countries’ intelligence agents – a six-month deployment. It turned into a two-year deployment when Bucky deliberately missed the first extract. Steve had heard from Peggy briefing the first batch of extracted agents that Bucky ran interference against pursuing enemies, just to get the agents out.

Then, the Berlin Wall had been rapidly constructed.

It was finally Stalin’s death, and the instability that followed that death that finally allowed SHIELD another bite at the apple to extract another batch of agents. Bucky was among them, and Steve was glad that the SHIELD branches had agreed to deploy him for the mission.

Steve was certain that what Bucky found was additionally justified for his missing of the first extract. While there were good reasons, Steve couldn’t help but wonder how much of it was Bucky’s perceived notion to make up for the ‘mistake of all mistakes’.

For not properly vetting Michael during the war; for doing the one thing that made everyone human – falling in love.

Steve had shared this uncertainty with Peggy during the first few months of SHIELD’s stand up. To his relief, she had shared the same worries. Yet, after what had happened during that time to return the Infinity Stones to their rightful places in time, Steve wasn’t sure if his and Peggy’s relationship, hell, even their marriage, was the same anymore.

It had been Peggy who had forced him to break their marriage vows. Forced him to do the one thing he would have done – had he still been young, but not ignorant of his best friend’s feelings for him.

Yet, he had agreed to it – if only to try to find a way to clear Michael of being a turned agent. Desperation had clutched at both of them. It hadn’t worked; their vows broken on a gamble, had not worked.

Steve knew that a more practical man – even if it was in the voice of Tony – would have declared it open season on their marriage. But Steve didn’t. And neither did Peggy. They both wanted to make it work – to make their love, their marriage, and their vows – work.

And in that repairing of their vows, allow this to thrive. To give both of their worry about Bucky a place to rest, a place to come home to, and to lay down burdens.

Thus, Steve did what he could to comfort Bucky – in private. He was also well aware that some of his actions could be perceived in a dangerous light, if he or Bucky were caught. The conviction of homosexual and indecent acts, and subsequent chemical castration of Alan Turing in 1952 was still fresh on his mind.

The world was not yet ready for a Captain America who didn’t care about boundaries when it came to matters of the heart. Steve had a feeling that it wouldn’t be until well after he died in this reality and timeline.

Intimacy between him and Bucky was different from what he had with Peggy; and he remembered Natasha’s words to Tony. A label of ‘romantic friendship’, with no expectations for sex.

He found that he didn’t really care for such a label; it just tried to pigeon-hole his affection for Bucky. But, Steve was well aware that pushing certain envelopes that pertained to the matters of the heart with Bucky was something his best friend was not comfortable with. Primarily because Steve knew that it would break his marriage vows with Peggy, again.

Of the both of them, Steve thought Bucky was truly the more honest, upstanding person. Steve constantly drew strength from that, and in return, did what he could to make Bucky’s home life comfortable.

“You’re home,” he said, drawing Bucky closer.

Steve tucked his chin over Bucky’s head, and gently pressed his lips against Bucky’s crown for a brief moment. “That’s all that matters right now,” he said.

He gently let him go after a few seconds, and bounded off the bed. Making his way to the bathroom, he paused at the threshold and glanced back. Bucky was now sitting in a more relaxed pose, and had a small, grateful smile gracing his lips.

“I’m home,” Bucky answered, nodding once.

Steve smiled, and entered the bathroom. He took a quick shower – mainly because most of the hot water had already been used up by the other agents in the other bathroom. He could hear the muffled voices of two or three of them around the house through the bathroom’s vents.

Drying and dressing himself, Steve cleaned his face and brushed his teeth. Safe houses were not normally stocked with the comforts of simple field kits, but it seemed SHIELD had some to spare for this one.

The sight that greeted him when he exited the bathroom was not what he expected. Bucky was still sitting in the bed, but there was a thin, skinny film-like object in his hands.

“Film from a camera pen,” Bucky stated, continuing to peer at film.

“One of the newest gadgets from Engineering?” Steve asked, approaching. He sat on the bed. Bucky did not shy the film away, but also did not angle the film to give him a better view.

“Peggy’s personal arsenal of gadgets,” Bucky answered. “Said she used it to photograph all of the stash that the SSR found of Howard’s weapons in 1946. She also said that Howard initially made it for capturing more… adventurous moments in the bedroom.”

At that, Steve blinked, and glanced at Bucky. Considering the first couple of negatives he had seen of the film that Bucky’s fingers were not covering—

Steve opened his mouth to quip. Bucky beat him to it. “Blackmail.”

Steve frowned.

“Of targets and collateral damage from their affairs. Not me,” Bucky followed up.

Steve remained silent. He had made a promise to himself to never again question Bucky’s tactics when it came to espionage, and his decisions in life. His best friend had the experience, the know how – far more than Steve had ever accumulated or understood. Bucky did not need him second-guessing and seeding doubts.

“Ever—” he instead, began.

At that, he saw Bucky’s lips twitch up in slight amusement. “Discotheque venues were the best places to capture subjects. I was careful.”

“Everything’s on there?” Steve asked, curious.

Bucky’s answer was to smile, saying nothing. It took Steve a moment to realize just how cautious and careful Bucky was with the information he had. The safe house was safe haven, but like he had thought of minutes before, they still had to be careful.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

Bucky dropped his hands down, and unexpectedly handed him the film. “Seventh one from the top,” Bucky quietly stated, getting up, patting him on the shoulder. “Tell me what you think.”

Steve watched Bucky head into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. Steve glanced at the film in his hands, then held it up. It was a little difficult to make out the document that Bucky had captured. Without his super-soldier serum, Steve knew that he would not have been able to make out the words on such a tiny thing.

As he read the document – letter, really – he couldn’t help but frown. He was two sentences away from the end when the bathroom door opened again. Bucky exited, freshly showered and wearing only a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Thoughts?” Bucky approached.

Sightly damp spots on Bucky’s pectoral muscles flexed and reflected the thin sunlight streaming through the top of the closed curtains. Steve did his best to ignore the small stir of longing within him, focusing on the physical touch of the film in his hands. It helped that what he had just read in the letter was utterly surprising.

“Personal opinions aside, if this is true—” Steve began, letting his hands still holding the film rest in his lap, as he looked up at Bucky.

He tried his best to ignore the massive scar that ran across Bucky’s stomach. Corvus Glaive had been the one to give Bucky that scar – in another reality – while trying to save him, Steve, from his own stupidity. Steve felt guilty about that – it shouldn’t have marked his best friend.

“It’s true,” Bucky confirmed, bringing Steve back to the present. “Confirmed it through another source four days ago.”

Steve bit off the curse he wanted to let loose. However, before either of them could continue, there was a knock at the door.

“What—” Bucky turned slightly, annoyed.

At the same time, Steve – grateful for the distraction – said, “Yes?”

The door opened, with the agent who had knocked immediately widening his eyes ever so slightly. It took Steve a moment to realize what the scene before the agent’s eyes looked like – even if it was completely far from it.

Steve immediately folded the thin film into the bed’s blanket, before standing up. “Agent Alloran?” he questioned, stepping around Bucky.

He took two steps towards the agent. It was enough to shake the agent out of his stupor.

“Sorry, sirs,” the agent apologized. “Just wondering if the rest of us could borrow the master bathroom. Queue’s forming for the one in the hall, and...”

Steve glanced back towards Bucky, who shrugged, before going back in to get his clothing that had been left within it. Both of the uniforms they had been wearing were hanging in the closet – still slightly damp from last night’s rinse. They wouldn’t need to put them back on until they left.

“Have at it, agent,” Steve said as soon as Bucky exited.

“Water’s ice cold,” Bucky stated, as the agent nodded his thanks and passed both of them to get to the bathroom.

It seemed that the agent’s primary concern was not a shower, but rather to use the toilet. It didn’t matter, as morning was fully upon them, and Steve had other duties to attend to. The final transport back to London would not happen until later, but Steve was still responsible for compiling the initial reports and accounts from the field agents – Bucky included.

He had ignored that task last night – seeing just how exhausted all the agents were. It was morning now, and everyone had gotten some rest. He couldn’t put off the paperwork any further – not if he wanted to fall behind or have the initial accounts from the agents fade from memory.

“Steve.”

Steve paused at the threshold between the bedroom and hall. Agent Alloran had finished his business with the toilet and was now taking a proper shower. The other agents’ clamor at the bathroom down the hall was quite noisy.

He turned slightly and looked across the room to his best friend. Confidence, even in the face of adversity, always defined Bucky. It was one of the ideals that inspired Steve – the ability to keep going, to push on even when things seemed uncertain.

At this very moment, there was nothing on Bucky’s face that carried confidence – only worry.

“Steve… if he’s gone missing… if we find him… I don’t… I don’t know if—” Bucky began, unsure.

Steve had to step up – to take charge, to make sure that his best friend did not falter. Not now, and especially since James ‘Bucky’ Barnes, SHIELD Agent aliased as ‘the Winter Soldier’, had been leading the charge – carrying the mission of SHIELD – for the past four years. He had to have the confidence to complete the mission and protect the world when his best friend stumbled.

And to catch him, if Bucky fell.

Steve mustered all the sureness he could into his tone – even if he himself felt as Bucky felt at the moment. Uncertain, doubtful, and still stinging from the betrayal from a person – a friend – they had both trusted with their lives.

“We have to find the Wolf Spider first, Bucky.”

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Tailor/ Портной

London, 1953…

Steve didn’t know why he opened the door to Bucky’s apartment, instead of directly handing the keys to him. He wanted to chalk it up to wanting to spend as much time with Bucky, but that wasn’t even an excuse. They were in London – home safe and sound. He would see Bucky each day until the next mission possibly pulled them apart.

In fact, if he really wanted to, he could leave, walk to the street parallel to his one, enter his own home, and go directly to the rear door, open it, cross the threshold, and knock. The rear of Bucky’s home was directly adjacent – almost connected – to where Steve and Peggy made their home. It had been how Steve was able to take care of Bucky’s apartment when his best friend was not in the city – without being seen by potentially nosy neighbors.

At this time of night though, Steve knew the neighborhood well enough to know that none of Bucky’s neighbors were awake. And if they were, Bucky’s appearance coming in and out of the apartment would only serve to assuage them.

“Did some cleaning and restocking of your pantry, refrigerator, and a couple of other places while you were gone,” Steve said, as he placed the keys on the table. He glanced up and back to see Bucky close the door, looking around as if he had never seen the place before.

“You all right, Buck?” he gently asked.

“Yeah...” Bucky absently answered, dropping the satchel that contained his uniform and the clothes he had worn under it during the extract.

All of the agents had been given a fresh change of clothing at the airfield. SHIELD had their sizes, and roughly tailored the clothing to them. Plain and inexpensive, it gave the agents a semblance of normalcy; another way to help them adjust to their lives back on home soil.

Additional protocol established for field agents was a minimum of three days mandatory leave – after they had dropped off any documents, information, or if portable and secured, a 0-8-4 at division headquarters. It gave not only the agents time to decompress, but analysts time to process the information.

While there were exceptions to put the mandatory leave on hold, they were few and extremely rare. SHIELD did not want to burn their field agents out, valuing the amount of risk to their own lives – and their sacrifices made – to ensure that the world was made safe.

Bucky had turned in everything he had found and taken photographs of, earlier. Steve’s reports supplemented not only Bucky’s information, but also all other SHIELD agents that had been extracted. Bucky was now on mandatory leave; it would be up to Peggy and the others in senior leadership positions to decide if the information about the Wolf Spider warranted that leave being cut short.

As worried as Steve was, he found that he did not want Bucky’s leave to be shortened. While he would be the first to advocate a two week vacation for Bucky, he knew his best friend did not like to sit around at home, doing nothing. Without fail, Bucky always took the bare-minimum amount of days of leave after returning from the field.

At present, Steve watched as his friend shed his overcoat, hanging it on the coat stand. There was still a wide-eyed look in Bucky’s eyes, as if he was still in disbelief that he was home. That this place looked foreign to him.

Foreign yet familiar – Steve hoped.

Bucky brushed past him. Slightly worried, as he never recalled such a behavior from his friend, Steve followed. Yet, he didn’t say a word as he watched Bucky cross the dusted living room and into the kitchen. The dining table in the kitchen was still in the corner – all of the accouterments that Bucky had piled there before he left, left alone – but dusted.

Steve leaned against the frame, watching as Bucky opened the pantry and looked to see what was on the shelves. Then, his friend wandered over to the refrigerator. Steve saw a ghost of a smile twitch up Bucky’s lips.

“I was thinking of making meatloaf tomorrow night,” Steve began, fiddling with his fingers for a moment. “We’d love to have you over for dinner, if you want to come. If not, I’ll pack up the leftovers and drop it off here. That all right?”

Bucky glanced over at him, eyes strangely unreadable for a moment. Then, he nodded, quietly saying, “I’ll come. Thanks, Steve.”

As much as Steve wanted to cross the kitchen and envelope his best friend in a hug, he didn’t. He could tell that just being home – in a place where it was safe, after two years living and working in the field – was overwhelming Bucky. Just the way Bucky stood told Steve that his friend wanted some time alone, to just rest.

Yet, Steve wanted to ask one more question, but he was hesitant about it. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“May I tell Peggy…”

Bucky closed the refrigerator door, turned to face him, and silently nodded. “Yeah,” Bucky tiredly stated. “Best prepare her for the news.”

“Thanks,” Steve said, pushing off the frame. “Try to get some sleep, all right? You’re home, you’re safe and sound.”

Bucky didn’t answer, but Steve saw the relief in his eyes. As much as he himself wanted to stay, to keep Bucky company; to just be there for him, he did not. The outward signs may have looked different between the two Bucky Barnes he loved and cherished – the one he rescued from a fate worse than death here, and the one who let him go in 2023 – but Sam’s advice still applied.

His best friend needed time to cope, to adjust, and to come to terms. Not from what he had done in the past two years, but just to wind down from being ‘tight and frosty’ in the field. He tried to help accelerate that by just letting Bucky know that he was safe and sound – home.

Steve turned and walked to the entrance—

“Steve.”

Please stay?

Steve’s heart betrayed him, even if his initial thoughts were of sound reason – to just let Bucky rest. Yet, he managed to not show it, and only slight surprise, as he stopped and turned. Bucky was at the threshold, but then suddenly closed the distance between them.

Enveloped in a warm embrace, he heard Bucky say, “Thank you, Steve. For coming to get me.”

Steve returned it, pouring as much comfort into the action. He smiled as he blinked the sudden tears away from his eyes. “Always.”

Bucky let go first, stepping back a hair second before Steve did as well. “Get some sleep, Buck,” Steve repeated.

“You too,” Bucky answered, looking a lot more relaxed than he initially had been.

Steve left the apartment, spirits high, and worry lessened. Yet, as he drove away and towards SHIELD-Europe’s headquarters, his high spirits began to fade. It wasn’t worry for Bucky that began to overtake him again – but more of what Bucky’s photographed letter meant for the future.

While he didn’t have the whole picture – and wouldn’t get it until the analysts were done with their research, just the content was concerning. SHIELD-Europe’s upper leadership had too many personal stakes or vendettas against the Wolf Spider – him included. It made him wonder that when Philips would get wind of the information, what the former SSR commander would do.

Parking the car in an open space, Steve hopped out and pulled his badge out to show to the guards just beyond the front entrance. Thanks to innovations in technology by SHIELD and the 0-8-4s they found, research into the advancement of technology to benefit Humanity surged. One of which was a biometric scanner of sorts for security purposes.

A few banks scattered around the world were already using the technology that SHIELD shared. But it was both a power and personnel drain, especially since the scanner was not yet shrunken down, and matching still had to be done by hand. SHIELD had the personnel and power, but the few banks trying out the security technology were limited.

At the front desk in the lobby, Steve stepped up to the desk and let the biometric scanner do its work. The technology was still far from the 2010s technology that he had seen in and around Stark Tower – but it was progressing towards that route. Steve hoped that with the right guidance, that kind of technology could be used in a bio-medical capacity to scan for various hard-to-detect diseases.

There was a soft beep, indicating that he was allowed to proceed further into the facility. Clipping the badge to his coat, he made his way up the floors to Peggy’s office. When dropping off the reports and materials, he had seen the faint light in Lorraine’s office on. Even with heavy curtains drawn that left almost no light shining through, it meant that Peggy was still in the office.

Ever faithful and dedicated, Meredith Lorraine had surprisingly remained with SHIELD-Europe after Philips had taken the ‘SHIELD Envoy’ position at the United Nations. Considering that Lorraine seemed like a constant shadow to Philips during the SSR days, he found it oddly comforting that she had stayed – but equally puzzling that she was content to remain a secretary.

Lorraine had been the one to go to DC and destroy the physical blackmail files on Bucky and Peggy – without being caught. She had also been the one to find and present RF evidence of Michael Carter being a double-agent. With her skills from just those two actions, it made Steve wonder why she wasn’t a field agent.

When he asked Lorraine about it, she had merely given him the same smile from long ago. The same one that had initially charmed him when he had first met her – and ended up with her forcibly kissing him.

It never got to that point again, but Steve let the matter drop.

It was a quiet night, as he exited the elevator and made his way through the bullpen. There were no agents sitting at their desks, and Steve was a little glad for that. There had been too many times in the past four years that he had dropped off dinner, or even some information with Peggy late at night, and seen SHIELD agents at their desks.

Stopping before the closed door of Lorraine’s office, he knocked. Upon hearing the polite ‘Enter’ from her, he opened the door.

“Captain Rogers,” Lorraine softly greeted, covering the mouthpiece on the phone she was listening to with a cloth in her hands.

Steve merely nodded, understanding that Lorraine was currently listening and taking notes to whatever teleconference was going on between Peggy and whomever else. He closed the door and sat in the seats near the windows, waiting. Lorraine returned to her duties. It seemed that his arrival was fortuitous – the teleconference was finished in less than a minute.

Lorraine hung up the phone then pressed the button at her desk for the room-to-room intercom. “Ma’am, your husband is here—”

Peggy’s secretary didn’t even get to finish when the door to Peggy’s office was yanked open. Peggy flew into Steve’s arms, fiercely embracing him.

“—to see you,” Lorraine finished mildly.

Steve felt himself turn a little red, even as he embraced his wife tightly. Peggy was not usually this adamant or wont to display her affection – even in front of Lorraine. He had only been gone for two weeks, but he understood why Peggy did what she had done.

With all that had happened, along with the rumors, and even careful planning, the success of getting Bucky and the other agents out from the East had been incredibly low. Odds given by the analysts had been 0.1% - even with Steve deployed.

SHIELD had been extremely lucky that they had gotten away with only one agent injured. Cochran was going to live, albeit she would have to retire from the field and take a desk job.

“Sorry, Meredith,” Steve immediately apologized as soon as both he and Peggy let go and stepped back.

“It’s good to have you home, sir,” Lorraine answered, seemingly not embarrassed at all.

“Five minutes, and then I’ll be ready to go home,” Peggy said.

Just as Steve was about to acknowledge and wait, there was another knock at Lorraine’s door before two people entered without waiting for Lorraine’s word. Exclamations from Dottie Underwood – a Soviet agent who defected four years ago – and Alex Carter filled the air.

With a light touch on his arm, Peggy ducked back into her office, while Steve took the attention onto him. Even knowing Dottie as an acquaintance for the past four years, Steve still couldn’t get a good read on the former Black Widow. He knew that she was an extremely competent agent, but outside of his occasional dropping by SHIELD, he didn’t associate much with her outside of SHIELD.

But, Peggy had vouched for her, and spoke of her skills – comparable, but not exceeding Natasha’s skills, as far as he knew. Peggy trusted her, and so did Bucky.

He heard the stories – not of the legendary skills of a Black Widow and Winter Soldier being deployed in the field – but that of the chaos the two caused in the office. In the four years – two, since Bucky had been away from SHIELD’s headquarters for a while – Steve heard that the Dottie and Bucky kept newer agents on their toes with ‘ambushes’ that sounded more like pranks.

It sounded strange enough that Steve wanted to pass it off as fiction. But, even stranger was the fact that SHIELD-Europe never deployed the Black Widow and Winter Soldier together into the field. Not once in the past four years. Steve wasn’t sure what to believe.

Yet, in briefly talking to her in a professional context, Steve could hear the genuine want and need to protect. He heard the underlying, almost hidden and deep affection in her tone for Peggy, and realized what made her defect. He didn’t call it out or confirm it, but just detecting it was enough for him to trust her.

If something happened to him; if something happened to Bucky; if something happened to Alex, and none of them could be there to protect Peggy – Dottie Underwood would make sure that Peggy was safe or saved.

As for Alex at the present – Steve realized that Alex had been picking up and dropping Peggy off at home for the past couple of weeks. His brother-in-law needed to hear the preliminary news of the Wolf Spider as well, and be prepared. Though neither he nor Peggy talked much about Michael, he wasn’t sure how much Alex knew about his older brother – personally and professionally.

What was known throughout SHIELD was that Michael Carter was a traitor, and known as the Soviet agent: Wolf Spider.

Michael’s defection had devastated Peggy; enough that she had briefly considered leaving the field all together to start another career. She had mentioned that brief consideration the day before SHIELD’s founding was officially announced.

Promise to Philips or not in repayment for his former commander’s role and aid in returning the Infinity Stones, Steve had answered that he would support her decision – whatever it was. He didn’t know what made her change her mind about leaving, and she was reticent about it. But he left it alone, knowing that if she ever wanted to tell him, she would.

At present, Steve waited until Dottie, who had come to bring Lorraine home, since they carpooled and shared an apartment, left. Then, he pressed the intercom buzzer.

“Peggy,” he called out. “There’s something you and Alex need to hear.”

The unspoken ‘can it wait until morning?’ hung in the air. It was alleviated a moment later, when Peggy opened her door and gestured for both of them to enter.

With the door tightly shut and sealed – acoustically – and hermetically only if Peggy engaged the mechanism, Steve didn’t bother with a preamble. “Michael has gone missing,” he stated. “Bucky’s found some evidence – he showed me a tiny portion of it – but I wanted to prepare you both for it.”

“Missing,” Peggy repeated, frowning slightly. Alex had a slightly concerned look.

“One of the evidence is a letter,” Steve stated. “It spoke of a coup, and of the immediate search for the Wolf Spider going cold. It was dated about six months ago – three days after Stalin died.”

* * *

Soviet Union, location unknown…

Though Sam made no noise as Bucky glanced back to see him step through the strange portal, his friend’s expression said it all. Initially wide-eyed, Sam’s expression turned to a more puzzled look.

Redwing’s recon had showed that the portal exited to a tent. There was nothing in the tent except for what looked to be portable light stands bracketing and lighting up the general area where the portal was.

As far as either of them knew, portable light did not exist in the 1950s – especially when lit with LEDs. The technology looked like it had been brought at the local store in the 2020s. Stranger yet, none of them could tell what powered the lights. It made not only him, but Sam and Natasha as well, worried as to just how long this portal had existed without detection from their side.

There was also nothing tall within the tent for the robotic bird to hide. There were only four empty crates that looked to have doubled as chairs. The stealth module within Redwing had been damaged during Sam’s days on the run with Steve. The decision had been made to just have the bird hover as high as possible in the tent, and wait a few hours.

Nothing – no human – showed up in the ten hours they had left Redwing on the other side of the portal. The only sign of life was the sound of a bear wandering by – and even then, it showed no interest towards the inside of the tent. Now, it was just windy, bone-chilling cold that surrounded them, the tent, the crates, and the portal.

“Siberia?” Sam guessed.

“I’ll take those odds,” Romanov quipped over the comm.

Because of just how unknown the timeline and technology was accelerated from the moment Natasha had left Steve’s timeline, they were not sure if satellites – even if it were just Sputnik – had been launched. Redwing acted not only as their relay for encrypted comm, the robotic bird was their scout.

Bucky hated being dependent on a single piece of technology, but they had no choice. If Sharon Carter had been abducted into this timeline – especially by the Soviets…

He mentally shook his head. It was useless of him to get worked up about something that had not been confirmed yet. They needed more information—

He spotted something – angled just so that Redwing’s camera had not picked it up. Bucky took a couple of steps towards the furthest crate and knelt down. Carefully plucking and pulling the scrap of paper out from underneath the crate, he looked at it.

[05 September 1953 – Riots Still Ongoing Since March—]

“Confirm that it’s Russian, or rather, written in Cyrillic.”

Sam’s words snapped him out of his small fugue. Bucky’s hadn’t realized that his mind had already translated the date, along with the beginnings of the ripped up headline, from Russian to English. He hated when he did that – as it just reminded him of what he had done. Yet, in this case, it also served to remind him of something—

“Headline is fresh, possibly a couple of days old, judging by the paper quality,” Bucky said, crinkling the newspaper between his gloved fingers. “5^th of September. Riots Still Ongoing Since March—”

“For the six months since Stalin’s death,” Romanov finished up. Then she spat out quite a nasty curse over the comm in Russian.

“Uh… so no Sputnik?” Sam asked.

“Still can’t tell,” Bucky answered. “But Stalin’s death was a time of great upheaval. Even I wasn’t immune to that. From what I remember, they woke me up somewhere close to that time, and put me on standby. I was given no further orders for five days.”

“No successor,” Natasha stated before Sam could get a word in. “Not even a framework on how to transfer power was given before his death. Our timeline had the collective Soviet leadership scaling back on massive projects – concentrating on housing, easing taxation, and the negotiation to the end of the Korean War, gulag reform, mass amnesty. While that was going on, the intelligence arm was placing stop-gaps all over the world. To keep senior leadership appraised of how the world was reacting. There were a lot of deaths and imprisonments under Stalin’s rule.”

“Sounds… I don’t know,” Sam began.

Bucky looked at the headline and the tiny scrap of broken sentences from the article below. “Sounds like it was the opposite here, according to the scrap of article. And I don’t think it’s propaganda. The words are too precise – too blunt.”

“What, that Stalin was a saint, and whomever is his successor here isn’t?” Sam asked, disbelieving.

“With an active agent such as the Wolf Spider possibly advising him, it is… was possible,” Romanov quietly stated.

“Wolf Spider,” Sam questioned, though it sounded more like a statement than question.

“He wasn’t known by that alias that in our timeline,” Romanov said, sounding strangely hesitant. “He was aliased as Michael Walker—”

“One of the five Winter Soldiers,” Bucky followed up. The name and the face associated with it brought the memories of 1991 and of the fight in 2016 forward. Yet, he could hear the hesitation in Romanov’s tone. “But…”

“But Michael Walker didn’t always looked like he did, Barnes,” Romanov said. “I don’t want to try to bring up memories that you may not have—”

“Michael Carter,” Bucky quietly stated. “I initially had thought ‘Michael Walker’ was the same alias for two different people. My memories are still a little fuzzy, but I know who he originally was now, and that he must have been captured—”

“Barnes,” Romanov cut in – gently. “Michael Carter defected. In both our timeline, and Steve’s new one. He’s the Wolf Spider in both. Department X – Red Room trained.”

Bucky pressed his lips together. It was Sam’s question of, “Carter? Any relation to Sharon?” that brought him from the bring of another fugue and dive into frustration and anger.

“Uncle,” Romanov answered.

“Sharon isn’t stupid to reveal any sort of relation,” Sam muttered.

Bucky didn’t say anything in response, and neither did Romanov. While the possibility of Department X controlling this portal was likely, there was no connection between the Wolf Spider and this portal. All they had was a scrap of paper telling them of the riots that were still happening – six months after Stalin’s death.

“Spetsnaz,” he said after a moment. “Trained with Red Room signals.”

“Desperation?” Romanov mused. “If the Wolf Spider was counseling Stalin, he may have fallen from favor with the upper echelons of power as soon as Stalin died. It is possible that those idiots may have tried to salvage something.”

“No further evidence other than those crates, the tent, and the newspaper scrap,” Bucky stated, taking a look around again. “The Wolf Spider might still be in league or favor. May have gotten desperate for personnel if the news of riots are to say anything.”

“Speculatory, but possible,” Romanov agreed. “But would you leave this place alone – knowing what it connected to – for more than four hours without an occasional checkup? We let it stay still for over a half-day already.”

“All right then,” Sam declared. “Recon it is.”

Taking the specialized shades that had been surprisingly gifted to him by Shuri after the 2023 battle against Thanos, Bucky put them on. It was currently synced on the same channel that Redwing’s camera was broadcasting.

Sam eased the robotic hawk out of the tent – with the crisp, cold night of the Siberian wasteland greeting both of their eyes. Half of the image was switched to the green wash of night vision, while the other showed infrared. Scrolling on both sides of the images were statistics – wind speed, relative humidity, and more.

From what he could see and read, Bucky thought it was about four hours until relative polar dawn. But that was also based on atmospheric data from the robot, and his estimates of the latitude and longitude. He relayed the information to Sam, due to his friend not having a lot of experience working or living in the тайга biome.

“Nat,” Sam said after a few minutes of carefully panning Redwing around. “We’re going to hold here for a few hours. I don’t like the fact that there’s no one in the immediate area – not even relatively fresh footprints. Next check in is in five hours.”

“Copy, five hours,” she answered.

* * *

The next day, London…

Steve had wanted to refuse to bring Bucky with him, but being the stubborn ass that Bucky was, Steve eventually relented. He did, however, win the ‘argument’ and made Bucky wait in the car, while he dashed up to drop a portion of the meatloaf dinner off.

She was working late again – another telecon with SHIELD-Asia – and most likely sleeping in the office whenever it was completed. SHIELD-Asia, currently led by Daniel Sousa – a good friend of theirs – was in midst of leadership transfer. Agent Li was to be Daniel’s successor, as Daniel was going to help with the stand up of SHIELD in South America.

Added to the controlled chaos of leadership change, was that SHIELD-Asia had recently run into a woman named Jiaying in rural China. Jiaying was initially marked as a 0-8-4 – and almost as a Level 1 situation. As soon as Steve heard about it, he immediately cautioned SHIELD-Asia to be as cautiously diplomatic as possible with Jiaying – and any Inhumans under her care.

Contacts and knowledge about Inhumans didn’t appear until the early 90s, if not 2010s from his old timeline. This was an early contact situation. If it was possible, Steve was hoping to not engage the Inhumans in a war – proxy or not. He knew little to nothing about the Inhumans, except for what reports Natasha had shown him about Coulson’s team’s encounters with Inhumans.

But he also knew Jiaying was dangerous. Her powers and zeal for the injustice in treatment by non-Inhumans against her and her fellow Inhumans made her so. That was the biggest emphasis that Steve gave to SHIELD-Asia. He knew that he could not intervene or advise any further – the timelines and situations were just too different.

Steve shook his head slightly as he passed by the guards in the lobby on his way out. Bucky was still sitting in the car, reading a book, but had looked up as he approached.

“Nothing for you to worry about,” Steve began without preamble as he got into the car. “Analysts are still going through all of the data and reports.”

You’d think they’d move faster, considering the information.

Bucky didn’t say it, but Steve could read it on his best friend’s expression. As much as he wanted to argue and debate the fact that the information that not only Bucky had brought home, but other agents had as well were overloading the analysts, he didn’t.

Three days mandatory leave; Steve was determined to make sure Bucky took all of it.

As he drove the two of them home, he reached into his coat and pulled out four tickets that Peggy had given him. “Peggy’s friend from Broadway, Angie Martinelli gave us four tickets for the show she’s currently performing – George Bernard Shaw’s The Millionairess. Center orchestra. Want to join Peggy and I?”

Bucky didn’t immediately answer. After a moment his best friend asked rather facetiously, “Does Peggy have a friend she could ask to come with?”

At that, Steve couldn’t help but laugh, with Bucky joining him, chuckling. It reminded him of the days long passed – of a more relatively peaceful, monotonous time in their lives.

And as the memories flitted by, Steve felt his momentary joy begin to fade. What Bucky had done for him, when he raged against the world – against God – for his physical appearance, was something he treasured. Vanity had clutched at him, doggedly whispering at the back of his mind, no matter how much he had tried to push it away.

Where Bucky had a normal life before the war: dating pretty girls and a steady job, Steve hadn’t felt that he experienced the same. Of course, that was the past talking. Looking back, he knew he had been lucky to have such a wonderful, loving, and caring friend who looked out for him.

And now, he was the one with a normal life – after the war: married to a woman he loved, and a steady job that did not take him away from Peggy often. But that same job took Bucky away from him a lot.

Steve needed to be there for Bucky now, just as Bucky had been there for him long ago.

“I’m sorry, Buck,” Steve said after a few moments. “I shouldn’t laugh. It’s not—”

“Say ‘fair’ and I’ll punch you, Steve,” Bucky said, cutting him off. “I’d only be a third wheel on your date, Steve. But thanks for inviting me.”

“Are you sure?” Steve asked. “I’m serious, Bucky. I’ll ask Peggy if she has—”

“Steve, if you’re that worried about me, I’ll be fine,” Bucky said, annoyed.

“All right,” Steve answered, unable to keep the worry out of his tone. Even as strangely stubborn as Bucky was at the moment, Steve was determined to include him in the lives they now both led. He separated the four tickets, pocketed two, and held out the other two.

“Just in case,” Steve said. “We’d love to have you join us, even if its just yourself Bucky.”

He heard his friend quietly sigh before taking the tickets and put them away. The drive to home was relatively silent after that – with Bucky going back to the book he was reading, as Steve drove through London traffic.

Dinner was as Steve had promised – meatloaf – albeit without Peggy present. Steve brought the food over to Bucky’s place – a welcome home feast. A provided source of comfort that he knew was one of Bucky’s favorites. In the end, there were no leftovers.

“So who is Alex?”

Steve looked up from washing the dishes and utensils. Bucky was still drying the dishes, but there was a puzzled expression on his face.

“Two plates were in the backseat, Steve,” Bucky continued to say. “Labeled as such.”

“Alex Carter,” he stated, before silently indicating that it was going to be a rather complex and long story to tell. Bucky nodded, willing to be patient.

Steve finished washing the dishes and waited until Bucky was done drying them. Then he gestured for them to go sit in the living room. Steve picked up the bag that contained his old sketchpad and brought it over. Flipping to the page where he had sketched the playground, he gave the pad to Bucky.

“Ten months ago, Peggy and I went up to visit her parents and Alex. We went to this park. Alex got to playing with some of the other children in the park – tag – and used the slide you see there as an escape route. I saw him go into the slide, but didn’t see him emerge.”

“We searched for him for hours, before I put on the vibranium uniform. The sensors in it told me that there were lingering traces of a 0-8-4 within the slide. That Alex disappeared into it, and that whatever it was, was no longer active. The frequency was captured, but traces of it were far and few in between. Each time we thought we hit the frequency, turned out to be a dead end.”

Steve reached out to flip the page to the comparative rough sketch that he made of four-year-old Alex Carter, and his aged-up counterpart. “Alex suddenly returned about four months ago. Aged up to thirty-eight. Biological markers were compared, and proved that the Alex who returned was the same as the one who disappeared. The 0-8-4 signature disappeared the same as it had done before.”

He glanced over to see Bucky with a concerned frown on his face. Before his friend could ask, Steve said, “I asked SHIELD not to interrogate him. The trauma of him being ripped from one life and into another is something that takes time to heal. When he’s ready, he’ll talk.”

“If never?” Bucky quietly asked.

“It’s up to him,” Steve stated, evenly.

Bucky was quiet, as Steve saw him nod ever so slightly. While circumstances were different, the psychological trauma was the same – between the two Bucky Barnes he knew, and now, with Alex Carter.

SHIELD adhered to his request, but at the same time, Steve knew that they were not actively looking to return Alex to the reality that he had grown up in. Steve himself didn’t have the clout – and he knew SHIELD currently did not have the resources – to push for that.

“There… there was an Alex Carter in 1970, when I returned the Tesseract,” Bucky hesitatingly spoke up.

“I know, I remember,” Steve answered, gently. “You already told me all those years ago.”

A faint, bitter smile appeared on Bucky’s lips for a moment, before disappearing. “Dossier on him was that he was former SAS medic, got hit with a 0-8-4 that caused some complications, and recruited as CMO of SHIELD. At the age of 21. Your 2012 dossier information had him doing research on the radiation side of things for the super-soldier serum. Apparently, it was a forerunner to Dr. Banner’s research.”

As much as Steve wanted to whistle in surprise, he held it back. “Our Alex here is a medical doctor, but he’s a part of the medical research teams. I don’t believe he’s working on anything related to the super-soldier serum.”

“Good,” Bucky nodded, looking slightly more relieved. “Good.”

Steve wanted to push for further explanation, but he held his tongue. Like Alex, and like the 2023-Bucky he left behind, he knew not to push for answers when it came to things like this. He was not going to be a hypocrite of his own words – stated only a few minutes earlier.

“He was killed by the Wolf Spider in your original timeline, Steve,” Bucky said, almost whispering his words. “1989. Killed by his own brother, because his research was going to expose some terrible secrets about an incident called Chernobyl in the Soviet Union.”

Steve thinned his lips partially in anger, partially in frustration. He had read up on Chernobyl, but accessing truthful, factual information had been difficult. It was strangely with Natasha’s help that he pieced together just how deadly the incident was. But, he hadn’t heard about this particular aspect of Soviet forces attempting to silence a British-American researcher.

“It won’t happen here,” Steve said, resting a hand just above Bucky’s knee and patted it.

Bucky nodded once, and Steve left his hand where it was. The touch was just as much of a comfort as it was an affirmation. He watched with fondness as Bucky flipped through the rest of the sketchbook – looking at the sketches drawn for the past two years.

“Fly on the wall sketch artist,” Bucky murmured, as Steve saw him pause on a particular sketch that depicted the Christmas party at SHIELD last year.

In the forefront were Dottie and Lorraine, laughing and enjoying themselves. In the background were other SHIELD agents, also enjoying themselves. The most ironic item within the sketch was the anachronistic Santa Claus wearing a Stalin mask and had a sickle and hammer sewn into the jolly red outfit.

“People liked the Santa Claus,” he began.

“SHIELD, or rather, the former SSR, was made up of a bunch of strange people, Steve. I know that. You know that – hell, even DumDum was comparatively mild against a few others that we both know,” Bucky answered, looking up as a grin split his lips. “Just saying that it’s strange to see Dottie and Lorraine this relaxed.”

“Best watch yourself when you go back into the office then, Bucky,” Steve answered.

Bucky said nothing except to widen his grin just ever so slightly. Steve didn’t need a verbal confirmation to know that some sort of chaos was going to explode at SHIELD once Bucky, along with Dottie and Lorraine, were working under the same roof again. If anything, what happened between Bucky and Lorraine during the SSR days – their legendary flirting and equally legendary snipping – was going to be considered child’s play.

After Bucky finished going through the sketch book, he flipped to the beginning and started looking through the old drawings. Steve remained where he was, content and relaxed, and kept his hand where it was – just above Bucky’s knee.

“Are you ever going to finish this?” Bucky softly asked, turning the sketchbook slightly towards him.

Steve glanced at the image, then at Bucky. “Do you want me to?”

The sketch was the earliest one he had done of Bucky – the first one of Bucky – and initially without Bucky’s permission. The morning sun had cast its golden rays at just the right angles into the tiny apartment the two of them shared in New York. Steve’s hand had itched to capture the lines of his best friend stretched out and asleep in the bottom bunk of their bunk bed.

He had sat at the table that doubled as a dining and workbench, sketching and trying to figure out why the bunched up angles of the sheets that covered Bucky’s naked body, were not working. Steve had been so engrossed in his work that he had not heard Bucky wake up – or approach – until Bucky made a comment.

Embarrassed for a multitude of reasons – two of the most prominent being that he was sketching his friend, naked, without permission; and the second being his own voyeuristic and secretly longing and tangled thoughts – Steve futilely tried to hide the sketch away. Bucky asked to see it, and Steve relented.

It had surprised him that Bucky told him he liked the sketch – even when not finished. But apart from one other time he tried to work on it – it remained as it was, unfinished. Much like one of Leonardo daVinci’s works.

“Yes,” Bucky answered. “It’s not vanity talking, Steve. I genuinely like how you capture the moment, like a professional photographer. It’s the only unfinished one in this collection. Don’t leave questions where speculations can arise.”

Steve blinked in surprise. Considering the air of fear and secrecy – doubly more so for the chosen occupations they had – he knew just how cautious Bucky was, when it came to discussing anything directly related to sexuality. Steve knew that his own ‘devil-may-care’ attitude towards such a thing rubbed off on Bucky.

But this was the 1950s, not the 2010s or beyond.

Cautiously, he ventured forth, asking, “Do you want me to finish it now?”

“Do you want a reminder of the scene?”

That was, in Steve’s opinion, a cruel temptation, with Bucky passing the ball directly back into his own court. Steve’s eidetic memory recalled the scene with clarity.  He could say ‘no’ and be done with it; left alone to finish the sketch while Bucky watched.

Yet, this was the first time since the war – since returning the Infinity Stones – that they had such an open, though not quite frank, discussion. But, Bucky’s eyes were serious—

“Only if you’re comfortable, Buck,” he answered, gently squeezing the area under his hand that was just above Bucky’s knee.

While it seemed to Steve that Bucky had absolutely no compunctions about walking around naked – most recently done at the safe house with only a towel to protect his modesty – Steve felt sketching was different. There was an intense scrutiny while sketching. More than once, he remembered Bucky commenting just how consumed Steve himself looked whenever sketching something.

“Then, I’ll be back out in a minute, and you tell me where you want me.”

Steve thankfully had the fact that Bucky handed him the sketchpad, to distract him from the intentional double entendre. At least he thought it was intentional.

There were at times, a double edge sword in revealing what he knew – and felt – to Bucky; and reciprocating as much as Bucky would allow him to. This kind of private teasing was on-par for their usual banter, but since returning the Infinity Stones, it had taken on extra layers of meaning.

Of a deeper and intimate kind.

Steve sighed, as his eyes strayed to his wedding band. Bucky always stopped before anything got too far, and Steve always followed his lead. Nothing that would break marriage vows would happen tonight – Steve was certain of that.

Bucky was certainly an honest person in that aspect. Steve wished he was just as honest, that he was not selfish in that respect. Dashing the troubling thoughts away, Steve then dug into the bag, and began to pull out the materials he needed to complete the sketch.

* * *

Soviet Union, Siberian wastelands…

It was now almost a full day since they had ‘crossed’. And still, there were no signs of life in the immediate area – except for a rather large building situated about a half mile away from the tent. With careful maneuvering of Redwing through the clouds that had moved in ever so briefly during the daylight hours, the building was photographed as best as possible.

Redwing’s images showed no signs of windows. Only a single heavy-looking door to the south – too blurry for even the camera to discern how heavy it was. Nevertheless, there were no signs of footprints in the snow going in or out. Or even vehicle tracks.

The robotic bird’s capabilities were not enough to image the ground via layers, or create a topographic map. Yet, Bucky had listened ever so carefully as he and Sam took shifts and slept fitfully in the tent. He had heard no mechanisms or even signs of hollowness in the ground – anything that indicated tunnels below them.

“Move out,” he curtly stated.

It was more for comm awareness on Romanov’s side than his or Sam’s own that he stated that. Romanov didn’t have video feed on them – only through what Redwing saw. The robotic hawk was currently scouting.

Both he and Sam slipped out into the bitter cold and snow, and paused at the tent’s entrance. Thankfully, it wasn’t snowing, but Bucky wished it was. It would better conceal their approach. To wait for nightfall to cross was dangerous – wolves, bears, and the plunging cold would possibly kill them in the half-mile hike to the building.

They had little choice in trying to find information. Both he and Sam were in agreement to rather risk an open approach than a clandestine one. The reaction from the occupants in the building – if any – would give them some information.

With a curt nod towards Sam, he received one in the same manner. A split second later, both of them sprinted towards the building.

* * *

London…

Peggy re-read the report as she sipped the coffee Lorraine had brought in for her. It was still in the early hours of morning, and she had only gotten three hours of sleep on the cot in her office. The telecon with SHIELD-Asia had involved all other branches – and it hadn’t ended until well past midnight, Greenwich Mean Time.

Diplomatic channels were in the midst of opening between Jiaying, the Inhumans, and SHIELD. SHIELD had taken Steve’s briefing about Inhumans seriously, and were treading carefully. The main talks between Jiaying and SHIELD-Asia were going to happen in a few days.

Now, there was yet another concern – crisis, considering what the report in her hand stated – that would pull SHIELD-Europe away from assisting SHIELD-Asia’s effort. It was one that she knew, warranted recalling Bucky early from his mandatory leave.

She had stayed in recalling Bucky yesterday, after receiving the initial report. She knew, understood, and completely sympathized with Steve’s insistence that Bucky be allowed to take at least the bare minimum amount of mandatory leave. It hadn’t escaped her notice that Bucky threw himself into mission after mission since SHIELD was raised.

Peggy knew that that kind of dedication came with one of two possibilities. The first – absolute trust in SHIELD’s mission; which she promised to uphold for all agents. The second – guilt.

She herself fell into the latter half – she felt just as guilty as Bucky did, about Wolf Spider – about her older brother. That she had not seen the fact that he was already a turned agent. And, she knew that she contributed to a part of Bucky’s want to be out in the field in a near-constant manner, by approving his deployments.

It wouldn’t stop for both of them – their guilt for being so blind and compromised – until Michael was apprehended, or worse yet, killed.

Now, looking at the more detailed report, either task seemed ever more impossible. She had no choice in this matter – she had to bring Bucky in and cut his leave short. Steve would be unhappy, but the information Bucky collected for the two years he had been living and working in the field was too great of a threat to not immediately respond to.

Peggy placed the report down, and hit the intercom buzzer between herself and Lorraine. “Lorraine, get me a secured line to Agent One, please.”

There was a moment of silence before Lorraine said, “Understood, ma’am. Standby.”

~~~

The shrill ring of the telephone was a familiar refrain, and yet, Steve still snapped his eyes open at the sound—

“Barnes,” Bucky’s curt, no-nonsense voice pierced the rapidly clearing fog of sleep. The bed underneath him shifted rapidly for a second.

Steve blinked as he turned to see Bucky standing near the curtained windows, telephone in his hand, cord loosely bunched with it. There was nothing but professionalism in Bucky’s expression as he watched him listen to whatever was being said over the secured phone line.

Even without listening to the conversation, Steve knew that it was a recall order. That Bucky was being yanked from mandatory leave and put back on active duty. Bucky wore the same kind of expression Peggy usually wore whenever something big cropped up. Steve didn’t even need to bet good money to know that it was related to the Wolf Spider information that Bucky had found.

“Copy. I’ll be there shortly,” Bucky stated, before hanging up the phone.

Steve watched as his best friend stood by the curtained windows, with only the tiniest stream of not-yet-dawn light streaming through. Silhouetted in the near-darkness, just the way Bucky stood still – indifferent towards his apparent nakedness – made Steve briefly wonder if this was what some of the targets Bucky killed in the field saw.

A highly-trained, deadly assassin who had no compunctions about taking a life, and how it was taken. Only that to keep the world safe, someone had to perform the ‘dirty’ work.

It was a life that Steve had hoped to draw Bucky away from when he went back in time after the 2023 battle. And it was something he failed to achieve – and left it alone. Instead, he dedicated himself to provide a sense of grounding, of comfort, to make sure his friend had stability in an unstable world.

Yet, before Steve could say a word with regards to the recall, Bucky placed the phone down with a definitive thunk on the nightstand. “Either you tell Peggy, or I will. I am not walking into a potential deployment with you, against the Wolf Spider, without her knowing about this.”

Those glittering dark eyes of Bucky were on him. Steve wasn’t about to reach over to flick on the lamp to better see the unreadable expression on his friend’s face. The joy of what had happened last night had faded as soon as he had woken up…

Steve gingerly pushed the blankets back and sat up, swinging his legs out to touch the floor. He didn’t immediately stand up, and instead, folded his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. Steve glanced up, wondering if God had intentionally given him such a complicated route in life.

“Steve.”

Steve nearly flinched at the demanding tone in Bucky’s voice. “I will,” he quietly answered, glancing back. “I promise.”

~~~

At the same time, in the Soviet Union, Siberian wastelands…

“Man, you’re heavier than the last time I had to carry you,” Sam muttered to him, as Bucky touched the ground, and Sam landed a moment later beside him.

“You’ve just been lazy in keeping up with your calisthenics,” he shot back.

Nothing else was exchanged between them as they hurried to the lone air shaft that Redwing had identified as a potential entrance. No one had shot at them, nor an alarm had pieced the air when they had gotten to the building. Examination and thorough panning of Redwing’s sensors yielded no entrance of sorts on the ground.

Sam had flown both of them up when it became certain that they had no other choice but to proceed into the air shaft. Bucky yanked the cover off and discarded it to the side. Redwing was sent down first – and about fifty meters below, looked to be another entrance that led directly into the shaft.

Hooking the grappling hook securely on the lip, Bucky swung over and carefully began to lower himself. Sam followed a moment later, after positioning Redwing at the top of the shaft.

Fifty meters down, Bucky paused while Sam began to cut through the metal with a disposable laser cutter that Pepper had given to him while going through her husband’s old armors. Bucky didn’t know why she had done such a thing, but he wasn’t inclined to ask Sam about it. Sam’s relationship with Stark and his associates was better than his own; Sam truly was the glue that bound all the remaining Avengers after 2023.

As soon as Sam finished cutting the metal, Bucky snatched the grate before it could fall. He then threw it up to Redwing, with the robotic bird catching it in a ‘claw’ and discarding the piece onto the rooftop.

Cautiously, Sam swung into the facility first, and Bucky followed. Both of them retracted their grappling hooks, while simultaneously pulling the shield – in Sam’s case – and rifle – in Bucky’s case – forward.

It wasn’t unease that Bucky felt as he took a couple of tentative steps to the right, and Sam to the left. But rather the weight of the old sniper rifle that Romanov found, that now sat strapped across his back. She had even found the un-rifled, unmarked bullets that were associated with the rifle – and of the past that he knew terrified her.

Yet, Romanov had taken them with her, deliberately stocking her quinjet with it. She had merely given him a neutral look when he discovered it in her cache. He took the rifle and bullets – all of them – not because of their shared past marked with violence and death, but because—

“Widow, it looks like a creepy abandoned 1940s factory straight out of a horror show,” Sam’s cautious whisper into the comm shook Bucky out of his thoughts. “Abandoned from the looks of it – like everyone just up and left. Didn’t even bother to turn things off.”

“Anything, Wolf?” Romanov asked after a moment.

“No,” Bucky answered.

Call signs were established before they left the tent. Falcon for Sam, since he wasn’t sure if using Captain America was safe in this environment – even if the line was encrypted. White Wolf for Bucky himself – he did not feel like reclaiming Winter Soldier – especially not after what Romanov had told him. And Black Widow for Romanov herself; a name she would never let go of.

“No memories,” he clarified, when he caught Sam’s puzzled glance towards him.

“A good or bad thing,” Sam said, before realizing that he had said that out loud. “Sorry, man—”

“Agreed on the good or bad,” Bucky interrupted, shaking his head slightly.

“All right, let’s take it slowly. Check in on the hour, and clear everything that we can,” Sam stated after a moment. “I’m going to leave Redwing up on the rooftop.”

“Copy,” Romanov answered. “I have a team coming in to secure the perimeter in a few hours. We’ll perform a full debrief then.”

“Copy,” Sam acknowledged at the same time Bucky did.

Together, the two of them set off – hoping that in this entire facility that was seemingly abandoned was not. Bucky didn’t want to remain in this reality, but with this being their only possible lead on Sharon Carter, he had no other choice but to remain.

* * *

London, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

Technically, Steve had not been recalled, but Peggy included him in the debrief. He’d arrived at Headquarters with Bucky. Neither was Alex supposed to be present. Yet, both had as much stake in matters regarding the Wolf Spider, as she and Bucky did.

Steve, because he was present at the same time she and Bucky had, when Michael finally revealed his true colors and defected. Steve had the Infinity Stones, and had even told Michael about the fantastical things the future had – before knowing about the true nature of Michael’s allegiance.

Alex, because Peggy felt that even though her younger brother had not grown up here, he needed to know what they had on Michael Carter – the Wolf Spider. Michael was their brother, family, and Peggy was under no illusion that there was a good chance that Michael – or a subordinate of his – would not hesitate in killing any of them.

The same could be said about someone from SHIELD – or even another clandestine intelligence organization – assassinating Michael. After Michael had defected, Philips had come clean to her about his and Bucky’s roles in the entire thing. From being Philips ordering Bucky to vet her brother during the war, to the secret order – given twice – to assassinate Michael if her brother proved to be a threat.

The first time, Bucky had stayed his hand in carrying out the order – taken in, like everyone else, by the narrative. The second time, Bucky showed no hesitation in carrying out the order, the blinders and sheen lifted. Peggy knew what her commander implied – that he would give the order for a third attempt to assassinate the Wolf Spider – if she couldn’t.

It was callous, vicious, and ruthless.

But it also told Peggy that Bucky would not go rogue when it came to the Wolf Spider – no matter how much hurt Michael had caused all of them. She knew little about the Winter Soldier in Steve’s original timeline, but what she knew, she derived from and extrapolated to form theories.

That the Winter Soldier in Steve’s original time had only been used as a tool by the Soviets – by HYDRA – to shape the world. That they gave the Winter Soldier a target, and he took that target out as ordered. No questions as to why the target needed to be taken out.

A choice never given.

A choice that this Winter Solder – this Bucky Barnes – had in this timeline.

A choice that Peggy had hoped to never issue…

Lorraine dimming the lights and turning on the overhead projector brought Peggy up from the depths of her thoughts. She mentally squared her shoulders and nodded for Lorraine to bring the first slide forward.

It was Michael’s service photograph; the only one left that her parents had not burned.

“A few of you,” Peggy began, keeping her tone even and as dispassionate as possible, “are familiar with the Soviet operative named Michael Benjamin Carter, aliased by his more commonly known name of Wolf Spider.”

“He was formerly of service in the British infantry, where his last deployment before discharge from service was in Dunkirk, France. He was recruited into the Special Operations Executive shortly thereafter. His supposed final deployment in service to the SOE was to investigate and gather intelligence on Tønsberg, a small village in Norway. We now know that that attack was for HYDRA to acquire the Tesseract. Carter and the platoon of men deployed with him encountered HYDRA forces, fought, and were presumed dead after weeks of no show-no contact. Shell casings were all that were found at the battle site.”

“Those assumptions were proven wrong when the SSR discovered that HYDRA had taken the survivors prisoner. They were found in late 1944 during a raid, and rescued. All survivors were put through the battery of psychological tests designed to assess whether or not they were turned agents. All came back negative. Further questioning by SOE personnel yielded no suspicions. Assessments made by SSR personnel yielded some suspicions – enough to allow for further observations.”

“All suspicions were cleared when the SOE informed the SSR of an operation they were deploying within home grounds regarding the alliance between Soviet and HYDRA forces discovered by the SSR in a previous mission. The Wolf Spider had done just enough to convince all involved of his double-agent status, but that he was working for Allied interest, not HYDRA ones. What we did not know at that time was that the Wolf Spider was actually working for Soviet interests, even with a convincing denial of interest.”

“New evidence about the Wolf Spider and its association with Carter was brought to light with the defection of another Soviet asset in 1948. Doubt and several crisis within the SSR slowed the gathering of information. We were too late in confronting the Wolf Spider about his duplicity. He escaped unharmed, and has knowledge of SSR methodologies, personnel, and many key details of weapons that exist in the future.”

Peggy paused for a moment as Lorraine swapped out the projector slides for the next one. The letter that she was certain that Steve had told her about in his initial warning. She had not named names during the debrief, but the various slides that accompanied her debrief on the Wolf Spider had clear implied points as to who was leading what in the investigations, or providing evidence.

“For four years, we’ve been stymied in our efforts to contain and stop the growing number of conflicts involving 0-8-4s around the world, thanks to the efforts of the Wolf Spider and his advisement to Soviet leadership – specifically Stalin,” she continued, as the letter slid onto the screen.

“This letter here, shows evidence that the Wolf Spider had fallen from favor when Stalin died over six months ago. Further evidence gathered by Agent Barnes supports the theory. Analyses points to the fact that the Wolf Spider is on the run. And that the location of where any 0-8-4 that his Department X and Red Room agents have been gathering disappeared with him.”

“We don’t know where he is,” Peggy bluntly stated. “And frankly, I am not of the thought to deploy any assets that we have to search for him. Previous behavior patterns tells us that he will show up on our radars when the dust settles. What I am interested in, is securing the personnel he left behind when he fled – an asset referred to as ‘the Devil Doctor’, and another named ‘the Spider’.”

She nodded to Lorraine to swap out the letter and all other evidence shown for a photograph. “We have reason to believe that this ‘Devil Doctor’ is Dr. Ivchenko, a former prisoner of the SSR. We know that he used to utilize a 0-8-4 in the form of a ring that hypnotizes people to be more compliant to his commands.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, Peggy saw Bucky barely conceal his flinch. There wasn’t evidence, and she had never heard it from Bucky himself, but she always suspected that Ivchenko had had something to do with Bucky’s time as a prisoner between 1945 and 1946. She knew that Ivchenko had been initially housed in the same prisoner facility as Zola.

She also suspected that it was Ivchenko who had done something to her brother to turn him. It was selfish of her to want to capture Ivchenko, but strategically, it was also sound. “Ivchenko’s loyalties are unknown – whether to the new or old regime. With Soviet forces occupied in searching for the Wolf Spider, taking out a key asset in Department X would be a boon to us. We have reason to suspect that Ivchenko was instrumental in creating many of the assets used by Department X, and specifically helped shape the Red Room agents.”

“Shaped,” one of the senior leadership agents stated. “You make it sound as if he had molded the Red Room agents from ground up, like a sculptor.”

“He did,” Dottie surprisingly spoke up. “The incident in 1946 with Howard Stark’s weapons was a prime example of his ability with the 0-8-4 ring. He was always experimenting with different techniques before that as well.”

“The SSR incident in 1944 in Estonia is the earliest we have of possibly encountering some of his work, Agent Cracken,” Peggy answered.

She knew Cracken had been a member of the 107^th and deployed to Estonia with the SSR. But she was not going to elaborate for the others who knew of the incident that she referenced. Alex would have to look at the old SSR files to understand what was being discussed.

The agent did not answer, and merely made a brief, frustrated look before nodding for the briefing to continue. Seeing that there were no other questions or comments, Peggy continued, gesturing for Lorraine to put the next slide up, which was a rather unimpressive composite image of a woman – drawn from police composite imaging techniques.

She would have asked for Steve to sketch, but by the time she had requested for Dottie to provide a description, and to put together the image, it was already nearly dawn. She hadn’t had the heart to call her husband in so early – not when she had been about to call Bucky in.

“The analysts and I believe that ‘the Spider’ refers not to the Wolf Spider, but the asset known as the Black Widow. Not our Black Widow,” Peggy added for clarification sake.

She saw Dottie briefly smile in silent laughter at Agents Cracken and Wessiri’s slight confusion that was quickly cleared up. Both agents had not been present in Brooklyn during the time when Steve was returning the Infinity Stones. The two agents were a part of her senior leadership because she wanted and valued their outside voices and opinions.

“The code-name is a title of sorts, taken on by the sole female asset produced by the early days of Department X’s existence. Due to a joint operation carried out by operatives from the SSR and MI-5 between 1947 and 1948, Soviet leadership panicked and activated twenty-one Black Widows. By the time Wolf Spider slipped behind lines, only one of the Soviet-claimed assets of Black Widows remained. We don’t know what exactly she looks like, other than the description that Agent Underwood has given to us.”

“Evidence and data brought home by our agents showed that prior to Stalin’s death, this Black Widow was responsible for the compromising of several NATO countries’ agents. One operation in which she was nearly successful in stealing nuclear launch codes. If we secure both Ivchenko and this Black Widow, we can stymie Soviet efforts and lengthen their search of where Department X’s 0-8-4s are kept.”

“Ma’am, are you implying that we help the Wolf Spider?” Wessiri spoke up.

“Yes and no,” Peggy answered.

She was not afraid to look around the table, noting the varying expressions that greeted her plan. It was risky, but she did not want to put SHIELD-Europe on a direct manhunt for the missing Wolf Spider. They were too compromised when it came to the Wolf Spider; leadership, and tactics-wise. Peggy was unwilling to let even agents such as Cracken or Wessiri – who had no connection to the Wolf Spider – hunt for her brother.

“Bait and catch,” Cracken surprisingly spoke up. “I actually like that idea. Let the Wolf Spider draw the eyes of the rest of Soviet intelligence, while we go after his subordinates. His being on the run certainly does explain some of the community’s reports on the instability in various pockets relating to certain intelligence. Any evidence found of the Wolf Spider ‘fighting back’?”

Peggy glanced over to Bucky, sitting at the other end of the oval table, his face and body nearly obscured by the bright light of the projector. She had noticed that where he sat relative to everyone else in the room was a common refrain – in as much shadow as possible, with as wide of a view of everyone else. The two years he had been out in the field had not changed him at all.

“No overt evidence,” Bucky answered, tone neutral. “But have the analysts considered this a distraction or ploy by Soviet leadership?”

As surprised as she wanted to be by the question, Peggy was not. Others around the table, except for Steve, frowned in concern. They knew by just by the evidence, methodology, and thoroughness of what she just presented that it was Bucky who had brought back the information. He hadn’t even need to be here for the rest to know. Yet, him spilling doubt on what he himself had found was strange to them.

But not to Peggy.

She was long used to the methods in which Bucky used to get results. At times unconventional, at times surprising, and at most times, downright dirty.

That didn’t include assassinations.

Peggy had never ordered Bucky to perform such a thing since the founding of SHIELD. And she vowed never to do so – even if Philips had told her that he was willing to issue to order himself. She had caught a glimpse of the true Winter Soldier – the one that followed Steve back to 2012 to return the Time and Mind Stones – the assassin of the Soviet Union.

It was something she did not want to witness within her friend ever again.

“What’s your assessment then, Agent Barnes?” she asked.

~~~

Just outside of SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

A man with brown hair, cropped to the latest Western style, and clothed in a high-quality three-piece suit, and polished oxfords walked into the lobby of the building. Security guards glanced at him – it was not often that someone dressed this sharply – even if the suit was slightly out of date – entered.

Those passing through the lobby gave curious looks at the man. They thought him somewhat familiar-looking, but could not point out where they remembered seeing such a handsome-looking man.

The well-dressed man stopped before the front desk, placed his briefcase down, and took his fedora off. He leaned forward slightly – identification papers in hand. “I’m here to see Division Chief Margaret Carter, please,” he said, handing the secretary the papers.

“Do you have an appointment, sir?” she crisply asked, taking the paper and placed it on her desk, smoothing it out.

“No,” he answered, watching her as she opened the papers. Her eyes widened in shock at the name that was matched to the photograph on the first paper. “But I know that she’ll want to see me.”

~~~

At the same time, several floors above the lobby…

Before Bucky could answer, alarms began to suddenly blare. Peggy immediately stood up, drawing her pistol from her thigh holster. The other agents had done the same as she yanked the door to the meeting room open.

Steve was right behind her – as was Bucky, Li, Cracken, Wessiri, Dottie, and Lorraine. She couldn’t worry about Alex or David, the Chief of Engineering whom she personally asked to sit in on the meeting due to his research and reverse engineering on several 0-8-4s derived weapons that Red Room agents had used against them. She only hoped that the two followed the emergency protocols and got somewhere safe.

“Sit rep!” she barked at the nearest security guard.

“Lobby triggered the alarm, ma’am,” the guard stated. “We’re getting reports that the person they have held there isn’t doing anything at all.”

“What?”

“He’s just kneeling there, on the ground, surrendering,” the guard said after pressing his ear to hear the secured comm report from other guards already in the lobby. “Says he just wants to talk to you—”

“All elevators locked?” Peggy questioned.

She gestured for Wessiri, Cracken, and Li to go to the R&D and analyst floors and ensure that all personnel who worked overnight were accounted for. It was still early enough in the morning that most of the other agents working in the building had not arrived yet. Only herself, those in the meeting, and the night-shift security personnel were here.

“Yes, ma’am,” the guard stated.

“Dottie, take the north stairs to the second floor landing,” she ordered. “Bucky, south. Give me eyes on everything.”

The guard who briefed her on the situation quickly handed both her, along with Bucky and Dottie spare comms. Steve had already activated his armor, the motion of the full vibranium cascading over him causing more than a few to widen their eyes in surprise.

“Where do you need me, Peggy?”

Peggy turned slightly to see Alex holding a pistol without the nervousness of someone unaccustomed to firearms. In fact, there was an eerie calm about him that greatly and chillingly reminded her of Michael.

“I was SAS in the reality I grew up in, Peggy. Where do you need me?”

Her younger brother’s words jolted her out of her surprise. “Escort Dr. Brewster to safety, Alex,” she managed to say.

“Yes, ma’am,” her brother answered, before turning and gestured for David to follow him.

For a brief moment, Peggy caught Steve’s eyes – his own concerned expression behind the helmet reflecting her own. Alex may have been reticent about talking about his experiences in the reality he had grown up in, but that action, the words, even the mannerisms were too close to their memories of how Michael behaved during the war.

“Lorraine, go with the good doctor.”

Bucky’s quiet command startled her. She turned slightly to see an unreadable expression on Bucky’s face. But those instincts of his – they never lied, even if she couldn’t tell what made Bucky issue the order.

“Go,” she nodded towards Lorraine. Her secretary quickly left, catching up to David and Alex in a few seconds.

Both Dottie and Bucky departed immediately after that, leaving her with Steve and the security guard. They took the third and final stairwell – the west one that would directly lead them to the second floor landing that overlooked into the lobby.

She could hear the chatter of the security guards over the comm, with the most prominent one to hold fire. Whomever this person in the lobby was, was a big enough threat to warrant the full lock down of the facility.

Peggy, Steve, and the security guard arrived at the second landing in short order. Both Dottie and Bucky reported seeing nothing out of the ordinary in their careful approach to the second floor landing. The guards were still containing the situation in the lobby.

Exiting, Steve took point, and Peggy followed. Together, they approached, as she saw Bucky emerge from down a ways, and cautiously creep forward. A few yards behind her, she heard the creak of the north stairwell door open, with Dottie quietly announcing her presence through comm.

Despite the potential danger, Peggy took a step out from the protective cover that Steve offered with his shield and vibranium armor. She wanted to see what exactly caused the lock down of her facility.

Peggy gasped. Kneeling on the lobby’s floor, with his hands behind his head, was none other than—

“Hello, Peggy,” Michael Carter genially greeted.

~~~

On the other side of the world, in the Soviet Union, Siberian wastelands…

The heavy door within the alcove was ripped open with some force by Bucky. It was the only area where he and Sam had not cleared yet in this eerie, seemingly God-forsaken empty place.

It looked to have been abandoned with immediacy. Redwing’s scans over the heavy door yielded no radiation signatures, but possible life signs. It was too thick to determine what the life signs were – but at this point, Bucky was willing to take even a wolf attacking them as a sign.

Sam coughed once, waving away the smoke that had been emitted from the sparking wires, and debris caused by it. Bucky was already taking point, and stepped in, tip of his rifle leading the way.

It didn’t take long for the smoke to clear, though Bucky had already stopped where he was. Sam’s heart-wrenching exclamation of “Fucking hell!” filled the air.

Bucky lowered his rifle, appalled at what he saw before him. Heaps of dead bodies, clothed and some looking more freshly killed than others, laid spread out before the two of them. The area didn’t look like a cell, but Bucky had seen and remembered enough of the past to know that anything in a Soviet facility could be repurposed to whatever was needed.

It was cold enough in the facility that the stench of the dead wasn’t overwhelming. But then, he saw three figures in the far corner stir—

“Oh God,” Sam said, rushing forward, slotting his shield on his back. “Sharon—”

Bucky moved forward as well. Sharon Carter sat limply against the wall of this place, attempted to raise her head in response to Sam’s words. She had been tortured, and what visible wounds she had looked bad.

Two others stirred as well. As beaten as they looked, it felt like lightning slamming into his head. Bucky remembered them: Dr. Ivchenko, a Soviet scientist whom, with Zola, experimented on him; and the Soviet asset code-named Black Widow, aliased as Yelena Belova.

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: Soldier/Солдат

“Hello, Peggy,” Michael Carter genially greeted.

“Here. Take a sip of this. Doctor’s orders.”

Bucky heard the small clunk of something being set down on the viewing room’s table, and glanced over to see that Alex had placed a small flask of all things next to Peggy’s hand. All eyes within the viewing room had briefly turned towards the doctor when he did that. Peggy looked slightly puzzled.

“Alex—” Steve began, uncertain.

“My reality’s Peggy needed something strong when something similar to this happened. Her older brother presumed dead for so many years, showed up at SHIELD’s front door out of the blue,” Alex quietly stated. “Un-aged, unchanged from the last time she had seen him – during her World War Two. He wasn’t code-named the Wolf Spider in my reality though.”

Alex straightened himself, seemingly clutching the black medical bag in his hand a little tighter. Bucky had to remind himself that this Alex was older, much older than the one he had met in 1970 while returning the Tesseract. Even then, it seemed that circumstances were similar between realities.

SAS. Medical doctor. Medical researcher.

His caution about Alex – suspicion, really – from the early morning lock down had thankfully been not warranted. Lorraine had reported nothing out of the ordinary about Alex’s behavior during the lock down, other than the fact that it was clear he served in the British armed forces in his reality.

Even more surprising, Peggy had not asked him to justify his suspicions of Alex. Neither had Steve. Dottie had merely taken the report for what it was worth, her attention drawn more to the placid appearance of the Wolf Spider than anything else.

Bucky took it as a sign of trust, and didn’t push further. Especially when Alex was actively showing and describing some of the more seemingly mundane experiences while living in another reality.

The fact that Steve told SHIELD to not push the doctor for answers heartened him. At the same time, it made Alex more of a mystery. As intrigued as Bucky was, he tried his best to push that curiosity aside. It only served as a reminder of his failure to properly vet Michael during the war, and even more so being blinded by a falsehood after it.

“Alex, what are you doing?” Peggy asked, concerned.

Bucky returned his attention to the present, as he saw the doctor place the bag on the other end of the table. If he had had any lingering doubts about Alex, it was wiped away as he saw him run a finger across the bag’s latch edge. There was an audible click, and the bag popped open.

“Neat trick,” Dottie commented, fascinated.

“Same thing that you did when I returned – made sure that I was who I said I was,” Alex answered Peggy’s question. “Except that with your permission, I’d like to compare it to the DNA of the Michael Carter from my reality. To ensure that certain… markers were not present.”

“Markers?” Steve asked, before anyone else could.

There was a familiar tone in Steve’s voice that Bucky learned and silently termed ‘experienced before’ tone. He held his tongue, and it looked as if Peggy was doing so as well. Considering the vast experience that Steve had in dealing with people from other realities or timelines, Bucky took a modicum of comfort that at least Steve was not star-struck by just such a simple display of more advance technology.

But only a modicum.

He was still… angry was not the right word… at what had happened last night. At Steve, at that sketchbook of his, and most of all, at his own damn weakness that finally chipped through the wall he thought he had successfully erected—

Bucky managed to conceal his reaction to his own thoughts – traitorous as they were – from appearing on his face. Peggy, leaning against the table with her arms folded across her chest, was just a few feet away from him. She still did not know—

He steeled his thoughts, drawing them in to keep them from straying. He would give Steve until the end of day to tell Peggy what happened. Even in a crisis, he knew that the two would try to find a minute or two alone.

Which, in his option, was far, far less than Steve and Peggy deserved. Especially after what happened between him and Steve last night—

Stop it.

Bucky forced his attention to focus in on Alex. The reluctance to talk appeared on Alex’s face for a brief moment. But as quick as it appeared, it disappeared.

“Michael Carter of my reality was cloned and rapidly grown to age by HYDRA,” the handsome doctor stated. “The original did die during the war. We didn’t discover the duplicity until well after he was killed in trying to carry out his mission.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. He could read reticence in Alex, but he wasn’t sure if it was due to trauma or something else. The silence sat like a heavy weight in the viewing room, but he was not long to let it remain. He knew that there were differences between each reality and inhabitants who bore the same name and appearance, but there was always a common refrain for certain persons – he had seen it during the chaotic battle after the delivery of the Soul Stone

Like Steve; Captain America, standing for truth, justice, and freedom.

Like Peggy; ever the bulwark against the tides of evil, standing in the light to protect the world.

Like himself; the Winter Soldier—

“Which was?” Bucky’s quiet, but cold tone seemed to make the temperature within the viewing room drop ever so slightly.

Alex was surprisingly not cowed by the demeanor that he exuded. Intentional or not, it felt strangely reassuring that the doctor wasn’t frightened of him. Like one other Alex Carter he knew of; fearless and bold.

It had not escaped his notice that Cracken, Li, and Wessiri had certainly all taken a discreet step further away from him. Lorraine’s sharp eyes were on him, while Dottie had narrowed her eyes ever so slightly as she watched the exchange.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Bucky saw Steve reached out towards him—

Bucky unfolded his arms, and at the same time, side-stepped Steve’s attempt to reach him. Until Steve told Peggy – or he did, if Steve delayed enough – he did not want Steve touching him, even if it was just out of concern—

… calloused but warm fingertips lightly, gently caressed arm, tracing down—

“That clone was planted in my SHIELD to steal a child born just hours earlier. An extremely valuable child born with the super-soldier serum in her blood.” Alex’s answer brought Bucky back to the present

“The child’s mother was still recovering and unable to properly defend herself, when the clone attacked and killed the two agents guarding his cell. Fortunately, the agent guarding both the child and mother was quick and skilled enough to kill the clone.”

Bucky wasn’t the only one to notice just how pale and still Steve had become with Alex’s words. “A child… a girl. With the super-soldier serum in her blood,” was all Steve stated in response.

“When I returned to here, I wasn’t sure where in your personal timeline I was meeting you, Steve,” Alex suddenly said, focusing all of his attention onto Steve. “I apologize for my reticence, but I was warned by a certain acquaintance of ours that time-stream crossing is dangerous.”

“Ghost Rider?” Steve asked.

At once, an unhappy feeling swept through Bucky. He didn’t even need an entire story from Steve during the crisis with the Infinity Stones to know that there was some kind of equivalent exchange – life for a life, and all that – that went on whenever Ghost Rider appeared.

Bucky hated Ghost Rider on a level that was almost visceral.

“The one and the same,” Alex answered, nodding once.

“So that 0-8-4 carried you into that reality,” Steve murmured.

Bucky heard caution in Steve’s tone, but it was not one that signaled any sort of worry about danger. It sounded more akin to careful words being chosen than anything else. Alex’s lips twitching up in a slight smile seemed to confirm that – and that Steve had a much greater understanding of where Alex had been living.

What little that was described certainly didn’t sound like any of the realities that he remembered seeing, and Steve describing when delivering the Infinity Stones. However, Bucky was not naive to assume that Steve had not traveled to other realities well before acquiring Infinity Stones. It was the mention of ‘time-stream crossing’ that piqued his interest, though.

He was not the only one.

“Any chance that this marker comparison is similar to what Dr. Campbell performed to ensure that your reality’s Captain Rogers was actually able to accept my blood donation?” Steve suddenly asked.

“Yes,” Alex nodded, but returned his attention to the broader audience.

Alex gestured to David, who had stayed out of both the conversation and away from the one-way window view. Bucky wasn’t happy that David had to report to this room – as he was one of three people who knew of the terrible history between David and Michael. Yet, Alex had asked David to be here.

Bucky could only imagine the turmoil roiling through his dear friend – having to face his rapist, sitting in the interrogation room.

David lifted the item that he carried up to the table and unpacked it. Peggy looked to be the only one who recognized the gadget. Bucky didn’t know what exactly to make of it – other than the fact that it was quite ugly-looking and not one of the usual neat, orderly and finessed appearances of any of the gadgets David and his engineering team created.

“This is derived from a 0-8-4 that was extracted from the Baltic Sea a month ago. While we still don’t know what the 0-8-4 had done, there was a similar device created and used in my reality. In short this device speeds up the DNA analyses process from a matter of days to a matter of hours,” Alex stated.

“But...” Agent Li began.

Silently, David pulled out a tiny pack with a familiar glowing blue tip at one corner. “If we try to hook it up into the electrical grid, we can potentially cause a city-wide blackout for quite a while.”

“The same kind of dilemma that we ran into in my reality,” Alex stated. “We had a limited supply of specialized energy packs from what my reality’s Howard Stark had built during the war. Nothing like this Tesseract-derived technology.”

“Will one test drain the pack?” Peggy asked.

“Not if a basic test is run. A simple DNA comparison against a known sample,” Alex stated. “The comprehensive test will, as it involves not only comparing the DNA against cloning markers, but also against markers for LMDs, inactive and timed biological or xenobiological agents, and a whole host of other potential threats that sensors in the building have not yet been upgraded to – or can’t. My bag contains a portion of my research that I had been conducting before I returned here. It was initially to try to stop the rapid growth and aging of the girl with the super-soldier serum in her blood. Then, it was used to research and attempt to develop a generic template of a rapid-deploy vaccine against biological and xenobiological threats.”

“What’s a LMD?” Dottie asked, fascinated.

“Life Model Decoy,” Steve surprisingly answered. “Skinned on the outside to look completely human, but completely mechanical on the inside. Artificial intelligence governs it, and it can completely copy the mannerisms, personality, everything about the person it was made to look like.”

Silence answered Steve’s answer.

Even Bucky felt the chill crawl down his spine when Alex reinforced Steve’s description with a single nod. Even in the aftermath of the Infinity Stones, Steve rarely talked or offered advice from the timeline he was from. But with just the tone of his voice, Bucky could tell that he had had first-hand experience in dealing with LMDs.

“Department X couldn’t have that kind of technology… could they?” Li asked, half in whisper.

No one dared to say a comment to that. While nothing that the field agents brought back ever suggested that the secretive Soviet science division had technology that advance, there was no evidence to disprove that either.

After all, the man sitting in the interrogation room had knowledge of just how many 0-8-4s the Soviets had, and where they were kept.

“I say run the entire test,” Wessiri spoke up. “Perhaps some of the results can be used for future defenses against similar threats that have manifested in Dr. Carter’s reality.”

“Seconded,” Li stated.

“Agent Cracken?” Peggy asked. Bucky’s eyes shifted to the grizzled agent.

“Can’t have advancement without curiosity,” was all Cracken stated.

“Dottie?” Peggy continued her poll.

“Run it. You’ve got my attention on all of this,” Dottie answered.

“Lorraine?”

Peggy’s secretary said nothing except to nod once in agreement with the others.

“Bucky?”

He remained silent for a few seconds. Democratic polling on something like this was rarely done. Bucky didn’t usually sit on the quorum that Peggy called whenever needed, even though his status as Senior Agent allowed him to.

Yet, there was something about Alex’ proposed full gamut of tests that didn’t sit entirely well—“So what happens if he is a timed biological threat?” Bucky asked, frowning.

“Containment, isolation, lock down,” Alex answered. “Similar to what I believe the former SSR Brooklyn base went through in 1949. Then we begin work on a cure.”

Bucky’s memories of that particular time during the Brooklyn base’s operations was not pleasant. His worry about his family, coupled with the fact that trying to pin down evidence of the Wolf Spider’s double-agent status, and a xenobiological virus had almost been unleashed had nearly overwhelmed him.

Now, even just the possibility of the threat was sending more unease down his spine. The tests hadn’t even started yet, but the building was large enough that they needed to coordinate the lock down at a moment’s notice with security.

“Li, go—”

“Might I suggest that David goes and coordinates with security, Peggy?” Bucky interrupted. Unease or not, he still did not want David to remain here, as a bystander, being tormented by just seeing the Wolf Spider.

“Just in case some electronic wires get crossed. I’ll help Doc here wire up the machine to the energy pack.”

It was an extremely flimsy excuse, and he saw confusion in Peggy’s eyes. She didn’t understand why he was making it. But it was the fact that he was making it that he hoped would give her pause for a moment. It only took a couple of seconds for her to understand – at least surface level – that he didn’t want David here.

All the while, he ignored Steve’s concerned look upon him.

“David, please go coordinate with security. We’ll let you know if the lock down needs to be initiated,” she said at last.

“Ma’am,” her Chief Engineer stated, relief evident in his voice.

“Steve, thoughts?” Peggy returned her attention to the current poll.

Bucky stepped to the side, and received some quick instructions from David on how to power on and off the machine without causing instability to the Tesseract-derived energy pack. He didn’t dare reach out himself to comfort David. Tension and relief were warring within his friend – Bucky would catch up with him later to talk. For now, getting him out of here quickly was his priority.

As soon as David left, Bucky returned his attention onto what Steve was saying, “… can’t hurt to run the test, but we’re going to have to be careful on who has access to the information coming out of it,” Steve answered.

Steve then glanced over to Alex, frowning slightly before asking, “I hate to continue to ask, but I need to know. Are you, or were you aware of the mission to acquire a Tesseract—”

“Or rather, the Cosmic Cube?” Alex finished up. “Yes.”

Steve nodded once. “I’m sorry about—”

“Not your fault, Steve,” Alex surprisingly interrupted before Steve finish – as if he didn’t want Steve to complete that sentence. “And yes, I agree. Would hate to have someone else engineer a specific targeted virus or something biological to kill people.”

“Story for another time,” Steve said, giving Peggy an apologetic look, before that same look was focused on Bucky.

Bucky did his best to ignore it, even though he was rather curious and half-hopeful that Steve would tell that story. Until Steve told Peggy about last night—

“Anyways, we need to ensure that the results are kept under strict lock and key,” Steve continued. Bucky had seen the flicker of a crestfallen look appear and disappear on Steve’s face.

“All right then,” Peggy said. “Let’s run the tests, and see if we’re dealing with the real Wolf Spider.”

Bucky briefly returned his attention onto the man who had nearly destroyed them all; sitting in the interrogation room, seemingly unconcerned as to what was going to happen next. As much as the Wolf Spider’s blithe countenance infuriated him, it was the worry that he felt that concerned hi the most.

Why did the Wolf Spider surrender to SHIELD?

* * *

Siberian wasteland…

“Oh God. Sharon—”

Sharon Carter. Former SHIELD Agent. Also known as ‘Agent 13’. Designation had been due to SHIELD agent ranking system.

Yelena Belova. Black Widow. Second-longest serving for the Soviet Union. Killed by Natasha Romanov on November 21 ^st , 1984.

Dr. Ivchenko. Given name unknown. Soviet scientist specializing in psychology and mental conditioning. Possibility of participation in the creation of the Winter Soldier is high. Was captured in 1946 by the SSR, fate after late 1945 unknown.

The tiny bits of information always came in bursts when Bucky least expected it. Similar to the bursts of memories that he experienced in random intervals ever since the Avengers had undone Thanos’ snap. It was uncontrollable when it happened, but Bucky had found numerous ways to deal with the so-called ‘data download’ plaguing him.

This was a short burst. Small enough that he only had to blink a couple of times to get rid of the sensation. The information his memories supplied of Ivchenko was incredibly sparse, but he didn’t like the fact that there was an association with the creation of the Winter Soldier – of him, so long ago.

Yet, their eyes told him a different story. Neither had the curious, hungry kind of look he had long associated with the horrific memories of his time as the Winter Soldier. Of the depraved pleasure of what he remembered Zola’s eyes to look like in watching him suffer at the hands of experimentation.

There was fear. Pure, unadulterated fear.

Just like the four Soviet agents who had appeared in the grave yard. Bucky didn’t know if he should be worried more about what his counterpart here was, or about the lack of hunger in their eyes – especially Ivchenko.

“Shit, give me your medpack, Barnes. I don’t have enough bandages in mine.”

Sam’s words snapped Bucky out of his observations of the other two prisoners. He hurried to Sharon and Sam, ignoring the two, and knelt down. Pushing his rifle onto his back, he yanked out the medpack from a compartment on his waist belt and handed it to Sam.

At Sam’s guidance, he grasped Sharon’s shoulder to hold her steady, while Sam worked quickly to patch Sharon up. Ivchenko and Belova were injured as well, but it looked as if Sharon had borne the brunt of whatever the hell happened here.

A soft, almost indiscernible noise – rotor blades, his sensitive hearing picked out – drew Bucky’s attention away before Sam could finish. Bucky immediately shoved the specialized lenses on and flipped the setting to try to see through the multiple layers of concrete and metal.

No chirp of a warning from Redwing signaled the approaching forces from air. “Sam, your bird still on sentry?” Bucky questioned.

“Yeah, why?” Sam snapped, strained as he worked quickly to continue to patch Sharon up.

“I’m not getting a signal from it, and we’ve got incoming choppers,” he stated, flipping the lenses back to a normal setting. “ETA ten minutes.”

Sam’s curse was barely audible. “How many?”

“Six. They’re big transports too. Can’t tell the model or make,” he answered, quickly gesturing for Belova to hold Sharon where he had been. She surprisingly obeyed his silent command, as he stood back up and took a couple of steps back, to see what options they had.

“Widow,” he barked over comm, ignoring the startled look that Belova gave him. “Widow come in.”

Silence answered his comm. He checked the settings – he and Sam were still connected to Redwing, and it looked as if Redwing was still transmitting. But the fuzz and crackle of a comm system was no longer present.

“Jamming tech in this day and age shouldn’t have blocked Redwing,” Sam questioned, now wrapping a portion of Sharon’s right shin up.

“Fuck if I know what’s blocking it,” Bucky muttered, glancing back. “Next check in isn’t for another thirty-seven minutes. We’ll be toast by then.”

Sharon was much too injured for either him or Sam to move quickly – or safely. As much as he was unsettled by Ivchenko and Belova, leaving them behind was also not an option. But neither did he want to bring the two across the portal.

The bodies that littered the ‘cell’ were of no use—

“There is a tunnel about nine meters below. A shaft here leads down to it.”

Bucky turned around, and stared at Ivchenko. He saw the scientist gesture to the pile of bodies stacked against the far corner—

“And who the fuck are you?” Sam spat out.

“Dr. Ivchenko, Soviet scientist specializing in psychology and mental conditioning,” Bucky found himself answering, instead of allowing Ivchenko to do so. “Woman over there is aliased as Yelena Belova, a Black Widow.”

“Psychologist with a specialization in mental conditioning?” Sam’s angry growl surprised Bucky more than the strange look that both Belova and Ivchenko were giving him.

“So you do remember us, Winter Sol—”

“Don’t call me that,” Bucky snarled.

“Sergeant Barnes,” Ivchenko amended. Bucky didn’t like the kindly appearance that Ivchenko carried – had been carrying underneath the surprise and all since the two of them arrived.

There were a few seconds of tense silence. Bucky could tell that Sam wanted to say more, to confront or even confirm that Ivchenko had been a participant in scrambling Bucky’s mind, but dared not to say anything else out loud.

“Shaft and tunnels. Right,” Sam broke the silence, tone authoritative again. “Where?”

“There,” Ivchenko stated, pointing to the same area.

“Clear the bodies and get that shaft open,” Bucky ordered. “I’m going to set up some explosives.”

“We’re going to need Redwing to drop all of us down,” Sam stated, nodding in agreement. “I’ll keep transmitting until the very last second.”

Without another word, Bucky left, picking his way through the dead.

The place looked like a facility of sorts. Not quite factory, nor unlike the silo where he had been kept. There were boilers and electrical rooms – good places to set off chain reaction of explosives. He just hoped that Romanov was getting the transmissions, and that she and whomever was helping her clear the area in the graveyard would come and rescue them after he brought the place down on top of them.

He only had two blocks of C4 and timers with him. Of grenades, he carried four, but he had a feeling that they would need it. The fact that tunnels existed in the area made him uneasy, but to escape the incoming forces, that shaft was the only way around.

Bucky flipped the lenses back to the near-x-ray setting. The helicopters were getting bigger now, and he knew that he had underestimated the size of it. Yet, as fuzzy as his memories were of the 1950s, he also read up on the history of the world during his time as the Winter Soldier.

The helicopters looked too large to be normal – or at least the level of technology that went into helicopters’ size at this point in time. He couldn’t tell if the helicopters were from the 2020s, but it didn’t matter – those helicopters looked like they were carrying more than eight men per bird.

Bucky just hoped that Romanov had managed to get a shield or something set up on her end of the portal. Or better yet, people ready to greet any invaders with extreme prejudice.

Wasting no more time, he set up the two explosives in areas that were sure to begin to cause a cascade of concrete and metal over their heads. The timer was set for four minutes. He hoped it was enough time.

Though the two blocks of C4 were not enough to bring down the building, Bucky hoped that it was enough to bring down the section they would be escaping from. Wherever the tunnels went, he could only hope that there was no enemies waiting for them at the end.

Hurrying back to the others, Bucky arrived, just in time to see Redwing attached and straining against the grate that covered the shaft. Injured or not, it seemed that survival was on both Ivchenko and Belova’s minds – the two had helped pushed the bodies out of the way.

“Damn, we’re going to need your arm on this, Barnes,” Sam stated, standing up from where he was trying to find a way to wedge his shield under the grate for leverage.

Bucky said nothing, and approached. He could definitely hear the rotors now, and knew that the others were beginning to pick up on the faint noise. They didn’t have a lot of time.

Grabbing the grate with his left gloved hand, he braced himself and pulled.

The harsh, awful whine of his arm spun up, and coupled with Redwing’s gears spinning as well, was loud. Bucky didn’t know exactly how long he and the mechanical bird were tugging at the grate, but it was slowly, but surely giving way. When it did, it flew off with an enormous, ear-piercing screech.

Bucky’s mental timer on the explosives told him that there were thirty seconds. The clatter of boots approaching filled the air not even a split second after the grate was ripped off told them that they had run out of time.

Redwing spat out a rappelling cord into the dark tunnel— “Go, go, go!” Sam ordered.

* * *

SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

“Thank you, Bucky, for what you did this morning.”

The smell and grey haze of smoke hung thick around the two of them. Part of it was due to the cigarette that Bucky had lit up minutes ago. It sat on the ledge, untouched by him, with the smoke lazily curling up into the air.

The other half of the thick smoke was from David, having picked up the habit towards the end of the war. Bucky watched as he smoked one cigarette to the butt, only to take another out and use the end of the first to light it up – chain smoking. Fortunately, it looked as if David only needed three cigarettes for now.

“Will you be all right?” he quietly asked.

A sad smile flickered across David’s lips as Bucky saw him puff on the last portion of the third cigarette before dropping it onto the rooftop. The embers were crushed underfoot, and a heartbeat later, David slowly blew out the smoke.

“I might ask for a few days of leave,” David murmured. “Won’t be able to help—”

“Not might, David,” he gently interrupted. “Do so. I’ll even talk to Peggy and make her grant it, if you want me to. Quinn is competent enough to cover for you for a few days, and you know that.”

As much as he wanted to reach out and place a comforting hand on his friend’s shoulder, he dared not to. It had taken an extremely long time for him and David to return to this equilibrium of just talking – standing as close as they were.

David’s rape had left an indescribable scar, and as much as Bucky felt for him, there were no words he could say to ease the pain. All he inferred from Dottie’s conclusion that fateful night was that David had been drugged by the Wolf Spider, made to see things – people – not there, and taken advantage of in his stupor.

The purpose of that was still murky, but Bucky had long put it to rest. It was an investigation that he dared not open. He also didn’t need any further information to read between the lines – during David’s drugged state, he had hallucinated him, Bucky.

Being an object of his friend’s sexual fantasy didn’t bother Bucky – but he hadn’t wanted David’s memories of him to have been perverted or associated with rape.

That was why his friend had withdrawn almost to the point of treating him like a stranger during the closure of the SSR and stand up of SHIELD. He wasn’t sure if his being away for two years helped or not. Yet, before the Wolf Spider had shown up this morning, David seemed to have been more at ease when they had been sitting in the briefing room.

“Promise me something, Bucky?”

He glanced over to see David’s steady eyes on him. There was still unease within those eyes of his, but also a spark of bravery. The same bravery that he had seen the first time they had met; when David would not let a blackmailer cow him.

“That instinct of yours,” David began. “Stop him. The first sign that your instincts have of something going wrong, no matter what he says. Stop him. By any means necessary.”

At that very moment, the door to the rooftop of SHIELD-Europe’s headquarters opened. Alex and Peggy exited, both looking as if they were seeking people out – David and him, respectively.

“I will,” he stated, just as David turned to see the two Carter siblings approach.

“Thank you,” his friend quietly murmured, stepping away. “And please, Bucky… don’t worry about Alex. He’s not…. he’s not his brother.”

David left, meeting Alex half way across the rooftop. It seemed that there was some data to be analyzed with the machine that Alex had proposed be used to discern if there were any biological threats from the Wolf Spider.

As the two returned inside, Bucky focused his attention onto Peggy. Just the way she walked told him everything – Steve had fulfilled his promise to tell her what happened. Still, he wanted verbal confirmation.

“He told you,” he stated, as she stopped before him.

“Yes,” she answered.

In the silence that fell between them, Bucky half-expected her to raise a hand and slap him. It was a deserved one after all. His own self control had given away to impulse, of two years spent alone in the field.

But, Peggy did no such thing.

“Don’t you dare—” she began, then fell silent, glancing down at her hands. They were ungloved, and Bucky saw her twist her wedding band – once, twice.

When she looked up at him again, there were tears in her eyes. “Don’t you dare ask for a transfer, Bucky. I’ll not authorize it.”

Surprise shot through him. It must have shown on his face, as she continued to say, “You’re the reason why he went back in time—”

“Peggy,” he began, guilt welling up within him.

“Let me finish,” she said. There was slight sternness in her tone that he heard her use on some of the other Senior Agents – initially dismissive of a woman in charge of a SHIELD branch – recently transferred from other branches of SHIELD.

He remained silent.

A moment later, she continued, “Whatever he showed you about this Winter Soldier you became in his timeline, is something I don’t need to know about, see, or listen to. Seeing the now, and imagining the what was in his timeline is enough. He came back for you.”

Bucky pressed his lips together and remained silent for a few long seconds. “He also came back for you, Peggy. Please don’t discount that.”

He had to say it.

Because if he didn’t, he could not live with himself. Because he knew that as much as Peggy understood why, it was not fair – to both of them. That because of them, they were both tearing Steve apart as much as they held him together in their hearts – and vice-versa for Steve.

“Peggy,” he spoke up after another bout of silence. “I’m sorry.”

She didn’t answer, and instead, turned to face the edge of the rooftop. She placed her arms on the ledge and looked out into the London skyline. “It didn’t get as far as I thought it eventually would,” she murmured.

Bucky wanted to be embarrassed, but he felt oddly detached from it. He wanted to tell her that it would never get as far as it had, ever again – but he couldn’t bring himself to say it.

Peggy was right – what happened last night had mercifully stopped before an extremely dangerous line could be crossed. Bucky had made it stop, even when the deepest parts of his heart did not want it to. Sleeping completely in the nude, with Steve so close to him – and only a thin sheet separating them – in the aftermath, only inflamed his desire.

He had taken care of that desire in the middle of the night, in the shower on the first floor – well and far away from Steve. When he cleaned up and returned to bed, it looked as if his absence had not even disturbed Steve’s surprisingly peaceful sleep.

Bucky had tried to go back to sleep, but it was fitful – full of regret, and of how Peggy would react. The harsh ring of the telephone about two hours later had been blessedly welcomed.

Of everything he had thought of, this was not the reaction he had imagined from Peggy. At the present, Bucky caught her eyes on him. Her gaze drew slowly up and down upon him, assessing not in a provocative manner, but just merely observing. Then, she returned her attention to the London skyline.

“Steve is terrified of having children.”

Bucky frowned.

“He told me that the child that Alex described of having the super-soldier blood was his counterpart’s child in Alex’s reality. His counterpart – female, I might add – nearly died, while carrying the child and while giving birth. The serum within the child caused an abnormal acceleration in growth and development. Steve is terrified that he may cause the same thing to happen… if I ever were to become pregnant.”

It was a little rude, but considering the circumstances that bound the three of them, Bucky was a little concerned. “When was the last time the two of you shared a bed?” he carefully asked.

“The night the two of you returned,” Peggy answered, glancing up and over at him. “I just don’t want you to panic if I ask Alex to work on something that might be related to the super-soldier serum. He told me some more information related to his research in that other reality—”

“Did Steve tell you that your brother was murdered by a Soviet asset in his timeline—” Bucky began.

“Yes,” Peggy nodded once. “And the fact that Alex in Steve’s timeline was also working on an aspect of the super-soldier serum. It won’t happen here. This morning’s activities were a surprise to us all, but I trust Alex – our Alex. So does Dottie and Meredith.”

Bucky nodded, but did not apologize for what he had done during the flurry of activities in the lock down. He knew that Peggy did not expect him to; that she valued his opinion on matters, no matter what happened between them – even if it was personal, such as the matter concerning Steve and last night’s activities.

“So what do we do now? Where do we go from here?” he asked after a few moments of silence.

“You tell me,” Peggy stated, holding his eyes with her own.

“Peggy,” he began, frustrated and feeling the guilt well up in him again.

“I was jealous. I was angry,” she said. “But now, I am… at peace.”

“You shouldn’t have to be,” he answered.

“I also accept that this is what fate has in store for the three of us,” she continued, shaking her head slightly. “That’s why I won’t authorize a transfer for you. So long as my… our beloved is happy, that is all I can ask for.”

“But it’s not fair—”

“Is it?” her sharp question cut in. “Steve came back – for you, for me, and for the world. Making whatever this is between the three of us, work, is the least we can do for him.”

There was no sting in her words. They were clear as glass, and as he heard and absorbed them, it felt as if her words cleared the fog of uncertainty from his thoughts. The fact that Steve barely intervened in the happenings in the world, told him that the world – this timeline – was relatively more peaceful than the one he originally was from.

No matter how sinister Bucky felt it was becoming.

“Yeah,” he said, the edge of his lips quirking up in a slight smile of agreement. “Yeah. Let’s find some way to make what we have with Steve, work.”

* * *

Siberian wasteland, underground tunnels…

Sharon’s groan sounded like a gong going off within the tunnels. Bucky could hear it echo up and down, as the others in front of him stiffened and stopped. Carefully listening, he heard Sam shift ever so slightly to adjust his hold on Sharon and ease her down to the ground.

Of their pursuers, there was nothing.

They had been walking along the tunnels for several hours now. The two canteens of water that both he and Sam had been shared among the four of them, but he had to conserve what they had. Sam had also tried to keep Sharon somewhat hydrated – even if the woman had remained unconscious until now.

Food was even scarcer. All of them had had one protein bar, but there was not enough to last them a full day. And yet, after hours of traveling through the tunnels, not a speck of daylight or anything leading to the outside could be seen.

The tunnels below seemed disused, even if the structure remained precariously intact. Belova had no information about the tunnels, and Bucky could read the truth when she stated that she didn’t even know these existed. Ivchenko didn’t know how these came to be, or where they were from – only that he knew the building had some deep foundations.

Wherever the tunnels were leading them, it was clear they had been used long ago. Ivchenko had managed to identify a half-collapsed section as possibly from the era of the Tsars. A relic of the past.

But none of it explained why neither he or Sam could get any sort of compass readings from their gear.

It was as if the entire tunnel system was not just a Faraday cage, but also able to absorb light. The flashlights that both he and Sam carried only lit up a few meters ahead of them at a time. The entire system was eerie.

Bucky didn’t like it, but he couldn’t hear anything approaching at all. Even the night-vision setting he had set on one lens of his shades showed nothing out of the ordinary. His sniper rifle didn’t show any long-ranged threats either.

“We’ll take a break here for ten minutes,” Sam declared.

There were no arguments from the others.

“Then may we finally have your name, and why you are wearing the Captain America uniform and shield? You do not look like Captain Steven Rogers,” Ivchenko stated, as Bucky glanced over to see the scientist taking a seat.

Both the scientist and Belova’s injuries were tended to as best as possible. They were still mobile, but some of the wounds they received were still bleeding – albeit slowly healing.

Bucky remained standing, carefully scanning their surroundings again. There was air, and none of it stale. But the flow was almost non-existent. Even with his enhanced senses, Bucky could barely tell where the currents were shifting.

“Sam,” Sam answered, as Bucky saw him tend to Sharon’s bandages. “Sam Wilson. Not keen on playing Twenty Questions with you Soviet folks.”

“Are you willing to barter a question for a question?” Ivchenko asked.

Bucky caught Sam’s eyes on him. They could remain silent as they had since arriving down here. But they also needed to know how and why exactly Sharon was doing here. And despite the groan, it didn’t look like she would be waking up any time soon.

He shrugged. It was up to Sam, but he wasn’t inclined to participate. He didn’t need to lecture Sam on being careful with any information he gave; his friend was smarter than most people gave him credit for.

“All right, I’m game,” Sam stated after a moment. “I’ll start: describe what happened in the history of the Soviet Union in this reality, from V-E Day until now.”

Bucky managed to hide the satisfied smirk that threatened to erupt onto his lips, as he saw both Ivchenko and Belova start. Neither expected that question. They had expected the simple introductions – most likely a ‘who are you?’ or a ‘what do you want?’.

If he, Sam, and Sharon were going to be stuck here for a while, they needed information. Given the fuzzy memories that Bucky had of Ivchenko, and lack of memories with Belova, their sources were going to be biased, but Bucky was certain he was going to be able to pick a truth from a lie from the two.

Redwing would have been a more excellent source to discern biological changes within Ivchenko, but the mechanical bird had been destroyed. It had been blown up by Sam to prevent capture, and to give them some room to escape further into the tunnels. But what was done was done. Their scout and encrypted link back to Romanov gone.

He hoped she had gotten their final message.

* * *

SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

“Well don’t you look like the cat that ate the canary, Barnes.”

Bucky didn’t even deign to answer the comment from Dottie – who was currently taking the latest shift in watching over the Wolf Spider. She was sitting on the edge of the table in the viewing room in a very unlady-like manner.

Then again, the fact that she had arrived early this morning for the briefing in trousers – and that no one in room had batted an eye – told Bucky that this was normal. He had heard from Lorraine that Dottie was supposed to have gone to the training field today to train recently transferred and new agents.

Apparently, in the two years he had been out in the field, an ‘Academy’ of sorts had been set up by SHIELD to recruit the best and brightest minds all over the world. Of course, there was no shortage of countries’ intelligence agents trying to infiltrate – including Soviet ones. Dottie’s role as one of the hand-to-hand combat ‘instructors’ was to also expose and expel said infiltrators.

“Any change?” he asked, leaning against the table, folding his arms across his chest.

“He ate everything, including that disgusting slop the mess calls ‘mashed potatoes’,” Dottie answered.

Again, Bucky said nothing. Of those who served in Brooklyn four years ago, Dottie Underwood and Meredith Lorraine were the only ones who had the most neutral outlook concerning the Wolf Spider. The two were the least likely to react emotionally to the Wolf Spider, which was why Peggy had pulled Dottie from her current duties to observe and report on the Wolf Spider.

They had left the Wolf Spider in the interrogation room for the day. After the morning’s debacle, the access to the viewing and interrogation rooms was better controlled than the cells. It also gave a chance for them to observe the intent of the Wolf Spider in an unobtrusive method.

Of course, they both knew that the Wolf Spider was far to cunning to be fooled by a simple one-way viewing window into the interrogation room. But it was the heart of night – of the hour of the wolf – that he knew Peggy was counting on to catch a glimpse of the real purpose that the Wolf Spider surrendered.

That hour had not come yet, but it was getting close. No one knew if it would work, but they had to try—

The door to the viewing room opened. To his surprise, he saw Peggy, along with Alex, Lorraine, and Steve enter. The other three senior agents – Li, Wessiri, and Cracken – were not present. Li, Wessiri, and Cracken were running down other leads related to the Wolf Spider, and what the other field agents had brought back.

He’d thought that Peggy and Steve wouldn’t return until the morning. After their conversation on the rooftop, Bucky had urged Peggy and Steve to go home. Even Alex had chimed in, stating that the analyses of the Wolf Spider’s blood would most likely not be complete until the morning. Bucky had even tried to reassure the two that his intent in staying was to take the watch shift with Dottie – that two pairs of eyes in addition to the guards, was better than a single pair.

“Finished earlier than expected,” Alex stated, gesturing to the folder in his hands, which he then promptly handed to Peggy. “He’s clear of all biological threats. We’re dealing with the real Michael Benjamin Carter.”

“He hasn’t fallen asleep yet,” Dottie answered, gesturing to the window.

They could all see the Wolf Spider, cuffed to the table, sitting there. What used to be a more alert, tall sitting stance had given way to a more tired stance, but not slumped as one would expect a bored prisoner to be. Instead, the Wolf Spider still sat at the table, seemingly composed, with his hands folded together and resting lightly on the desk.

“Physically, then,” Peggy stated, walking to the center of the room, and leaned against the table. She folded her arms across her chest, much like he had done, and tilted her head ever so slightly as she took a few moments to observe their prisoner.

“Let’s take the psychological route,” Peggy declared.

Bucky didn’t look over as he heard and saw Steve stop and stand next to him out of her corner of his eyes. There were still some lingering conflict and guilt swirling within him, but the discussion between him and Peggy earlier in the day seemed to settle most of it. ‘Sharing’ wasn’t quite the word that Bucky wanted to use – he still had his own boundaries when it came to Steve; the line that he himself dared not cross.

The line that tempted him since he was ten, and had never let go of. The line that he had taken, and devoted himself to making sure that their first and oldest of promises was upheld until the end.

I’m with you, until the end of the line. Forward and together.

That was his and Steve’s vow.

“Ma’am,” Lorraine’s crisp acknowledgment brought Bucky’s attention back to the present.

Steve’s comforting hand pressing briefly on his right shoulder felt good and right again. It didn’t linger with hesitancy as Steve used to do. That simple, short touch between them told him that Steve understood and was apologizing to him.

Bucky finally glanced up, eyes catching those expressive blue-green ones of Steve’s. He nodded once – accepting and forgiving Steve for what happened. Then, Bucky returned his attention to the activity happening in the interrogation room.

“Meredith Lorraine,” the Wolf Spider genially stated as Lorraine entered the interrogation room, carrying the brown folder that was SHIELD’s dossier on him.

Lorraine didn’t answer. Instead, she sat down, laid the folder on the table and opened it. “I’d like to start with some simple word associations,” she stated, glancing up for a brief moment.

“That the file SHIELD has on me?” the Wolf Spider asked, as if he were having a simple, everyday conversation, and not being interrogated.

Again, Lorraine seemingly ignored the question, and continued as if she had not been interrupted. “Just tell me the first word that pops into your thoughts. For example, I say, ‘Day’, and you might say…”

“Light,” the Wolf Spider answered, leaning back in his seat. The sound of his cuffs and the chain that bound him to the table, scraping against the table, seemed to be louder than it normally would.

Bucky didn’t like the unsettling smirk that appeared on the Wolf Spider’s face. But even with the quick glance up from Lorraine, before she focused back on the folder and its contents, didn’t seem to affect her at all.

“Gun,” Lorraine stated.

“Armament.”

“Agent.”

“Provocateur.”

“Woman.”

“Certainly not what you are, Viper.”

“Bird,” Lorraine continued, showing no sign or reaction to the jab.

“Flight.”

“Sunlight.”

“You don’t get enough of it,” the Wolf Spider stated, the unsettling grin becoming a hair wider.

“Moon.”

“Dance.”

“Heart.”

“Broken. I can see you had yours broken a long time ago, Agent Lorraine. Just like mine. Broken by certain persons watching this idiotic charade through that fucking window—”

“Ship,” Lorraine interrupted.

“Lost.”

“Newspaper.”

“Propaganda.”

“Man.”

“Sex.”

It wasn’t so much of a pause, but more of a hesitation on Lorraine’s part. She had not expected that answer, and neither did most of the others in the viewing room. Bucky wasn’t exactly sure what Peggy – or Lorraine – was trying to accomplish with this ‘word association’ test—

“Meredith, jump to branch five,” Peggy quietly stated.

Bucky glanced over to see Peggy remove her hand from a tiny device attached to the lobe of her ear. He realized that Lorraine was wearing a one-way comm linked back to Peggy in lieu of the usual earrings that she wore as a part of her outfit. It certainly blended in enough that Bucky had not noticed such a device, until now.

“Gun,” Lorraine continued. The order had only taken less than a second to be given and obeyed.

“You already asked that.”

“Agent,” Lorraine pressed.

“Provocateur,” the Wolf Spider continued to smirk.

“Ship.”

“Lost.”

“Newspaper.”

“Propaganda.”

“Operations.”

“Oh,” the Wolf Spider began. “Not ‘Man’? Didn’t like my answer? ‘Sex’ too much for you? Don’t want to think about two men having sex? Isn’t that the crime your brilliant Alan Turing was charged for? Got some instructions from my sister to use a different route—”

“Secret,” Peggy’s secretary pressed on.

“Open. She knows what I am. She also knows about you—”

“Traitor,” Lorraine stated. The calm around her was broken though. Bucky could hear the barest hints of strain in her tone.

“Not to my country. Let’s go back to Secret and Open. She’s never told you that she knows—”

“Murder.”

There was a pause, and then a rather unkind smile replaced the unsettling smirk on the Wolf Spider’s lips. “Employment. For a certain assassin you have in SHIELD’s ranks. Who is more than likely watching this farce play out. I know you’re in that room, Winter Soldier. I know you and Steve made it across the Spree.”

Bucky narrowed his eyes ever so slightly as he curled his left hand into a fist. Not only was the Wolf Spider’s words sending a chill down his spine, he didn’t like where this line of questions and word associations was going. He wanted to go right in and pull Lorraine out, but a quick glance over towards Peggy told him that she was not going to.

“He’s only trying to provoke a reaction, Bucky,” Steve’s quiet whisper into his ear and reassuring weight of his hand on his shoulder again, grounded him.

“Country,” Lorraine stated.

“Motherland.”

“Peggy, pull her out of there. Now.”

Bucky wasn’t the only one to look at Alex, who had made that statement. There was not quite a concerned look on the doctor’s face – it looked more like a cross between a plan and preoccupation.

“Soldier.”

“Winter. Cold. Assassin.”

Bucky snapped his eyes back onto the Wolf Spider. The unkind smile was still on his face—

The Wolf Spider was not done, as he continued his litany, saying, “Lonely. Commands. Implanted. Soviet Asset. Lover—”

“Meredith, done,” Peggy quietly spoke into the one-way comm.

“Done,” Lorraine snapped, abruptly standing up, and slammed the folder close.

It was the first time anyone had seen her lose her calm. Even the Wolf Spider was startled by the abruptness of her actions. Bucky’s eyes traced Lorraine’s route out of the room and back into viewing room.

“Let me see that, please?” Alex’s was the first to approach, tone and voice gentle.

Lorraine handed the folder over to Alex, who opened it and took a look at the contents. From the angle Bucky was situated at, he couldn’t exactly see what Alex was reading.

“You don’t have to remain, Meredith,” Peggy’s equally kind voice drew Bucky’s attention away from Alex.

“I’d rather remain, ma’am,” Lorraine stiffly answered, taking up a spot next to Dottie. Bucky did not missed the brief, worried look that the Black Widow gave to Peggy’s secretary – nor the fact that Dottie reached out to briefly clasp Lorraine’s hand – before Dottie returned her attention onto the Wolf Spider.

“He wouldn’t surrender to us just to be combative,” Steve spoke up. Steve’s hand was still on Bucky’s shoulder, but was lifted a moment, as Steve stepped away and went closer to the window. “We had dogs chasing us into the Spree, so its not—”

“He’s not softened up,” Alex suddenly interrupted. Bucky saw him close the folder. “This prime tree of words into branch five you took just made him angry, and he lashed out. Anger from him isn’t going to get us anywhere. Let me try something, Peggy?”

“What do you have in mind?” she asked.

“He doesn’t know me,” Alex stated. “Says right here in his dossier that he is able to read a room and pick apart people with a glance. He knows all of you, but he doesn’t know me.”

“We could wait until morning, then have either Agents Cracken or Wessiri try to question him,” Steve suggested.

“Michael will pick either of them apart, even if he’s never worked with them before,” Peggy answered, resigned. “Alex is right. We need someone in there whom he cannot have knowledge of from the dossiers compiled within his own vast network of spies.”

Her sharp eyes focused on Alex. Bucky saw no sign of nervousness within the doctor, just the same kind of eerie calm that had been on display earlier. “Be careful Alex,” was all Peggy stated.

“Ma’am.”

Bucky shared a worried look with both Peggy and Steve, as Alex took the tiny comm from Lorraine, and departed. As much as Alex’s reasoning made sense, they knew first hand how astute and shrewd the Wolf Spider was. It stood as much that even if they themselves knew little of where Alex had grew up in – the information of yet another reality could not fall into the Wolf Spider’s vast knowledge.

Alex entered the interrogation room. At once, a rather curious change settled across the Wolf Spider. Like how Lorraine initially behaved, Alex remained silent, occasionally glancing up as if merely acknowledging that the Wolf Spider was sitting there in front of him. He rifled through the folder, shuffling the papers like a doctor would before questioning a patient.

“I don’t know you,” the Wolf Spider bluntly stated after a few long seconds of silence that was only punctuated by the shuffling of papers. “Who are you, and why do you look like Division Chief Carter?”

When Alex finally answered, it was not in response to the Wolf Spider’s question. “Day.”

“Who the hell are you?” the Wolf Spider answered.

“Gun.”

“Answer me, dammit.”

“Agent.”

“Seriously, who the fuck are you, and why the fuck do you look like Peggy Carter?”

“Woman.”

“Underestimated,” the Wolf Spider stated, leaning back, expression no longer composed. Nor was that unsettling or unkind smile on his face. In just a few short words, Alex had completely knocked the Wolf Spider off of his game—

“Day,” Alex repeated.

“Light,” the Wolf Spider sneered.

“Gun.”

“You’re from another reality.”

“Agent.”

“You’re trained.”

“Woman.”

Silence answered Alex’s word association. Yet, Bucky could not hear a hint of strain or distress in Alex’s tone. “Woman,” the doctor repeated again.

“You’re me. In your reality.”

“Day,” Alex began again.

It went on and on, the same four words repeated: ‘day, gun, agent, woman’, and punctured with the occasional silence from the Wolf Spider, as they watched him try to pick apart the complete enigma of Alex Carter. It took forty-five minutes of repeating those words to finally begin to break through the Wolf Spider’s bravado – and see the beginnings of his legendary ability to read a room unravel.

As amazed as Bucky was with the fact that not once did Alex falter, he was also concerned as to how the doctor was picking apart his own brother. He knew he was not the only one to share that concern. He could see it in the eyes of everyone – including Dottie. Wolf Spider was correct in his assessment before being broken apart to answer only the words with their associations:

Alex Carter had been trained.

Peggy guided Alex through the ‘branches’ of word associations. Yet, ‘branch five’ was never touched again. Even as dull-eyed and tired as the Wolf Spider looked, Bucky was certain that some of it was feigned. It would take more than just repeating words to completely wear down the Wolf Spider.

It was into the second hour of the progressive word association, that she finally said, “lAlex, ask him why he surrendered.”

Alex repeated the question.

Life seemed to instantly flow back into those brilliant eyes of the Wolf Spider. It sparked a long buried memory of what felt like simpler times – during the war – when Bucky himself had found himself beginning to fall for the charms of the Wolf Spider. When he began to become blinded—

Bucky mentally shook his head to dislodge the memory.

“I need SHIELD’s help,” was all the Wolf Spider stated.

“Why are you here?” Alex asked again, without prompting from Peggy.

“Are you deaf?”

“Why are you here?”

“Fucking metronome. That’s what the fuck you are,” the man spat out rather viciously.

Alex repeated his question each time the Wolf Spider said something to the contrary. It took Bucky a moment to realize just what the word associations, and Alex’s repeated usage of those words were doing. Not only were they throwing the Wolf Spider’s sense of normalcy off, they were getting a clear picture of just how much the last six months had rattled him.

It confirmed the reports that Bucky had brought back – all of it. From the fact that the Wolf Spider had advised Stalin, to the fall from favor when Stalin died. The Wolf Spider had escaped, leaving behind valuable subordinates. His appearance at SHIELD was no coincidence.

The Wolf Spider was desperate.

“Why are you here?”

“Because...I need your help,” the unexpectedly ragged voice of the Wolf Spider cut into Bucky’s thoughts. “I need SHIELD’s help… I need Captain America, no, I need Steve’s help. It’s a matter of life and death – not just for this reality, but the one he’s from.”

“No...” Steve’s alarmed denial, coupled with his sudden step forward and closer to the glass startled all of them.

“There’s a portal that Department X – my Department X – found, and used to control—” the Wolf Spider continued.

“Located in Siberia,” Steve’s horrified whisper shattered the silence in the room.

~~~

Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…

“He found it shortly after he returned to the arms of the motherland,” Ivchenko stated. “After what destruction had been rendered to our advancement in the sciences by the SSR in their so-called ‘Operation Midnight’, the portal was a welcomed blessing.”

“So you guys began to steal technology from our reality,” Sam bluntly stated.

“Initially, yes.” The scientist was not ashamed at all to admit that.

Bucky was not surprised at all. But he was more than a little concerned. The scenario sounded too much like the first portal he and Steve had encountered and crossed into – into a rather nightmarish reality where HYDRA ruled the world, and SHIELD was all but a tiny band of freedom fighters.

“Then Michael returned one day with a young woman in tow. Blonde hair, eyes bright and intelligent like him, and burdened with a sense of righteous purpose.”

“Sharon,” Sam said, glancing down at the woman still unconscious, but seemingly resting a little easier after Sam had done his best to tend to her.

“Yes,” the doctor confirmed, his gaze strangely fond as Bucky noticed his eyes briefly roaming over Carter. “Sharon Carter.”

~~~

SHIELD Headquarters…

“Sharon?”

“Steve.” Bucky immediately reached out to steady Steve, who had turned as white as a sheet with the mention of ‘Sharon Carter’ from the Wolf Spider.

He quickly shook his head at Peggy, who had both a confused and worried look. It was apparent to him that Steve had never told Peggy or anyone else about Sharon Carter – that he, Bucky, alone, knew of Sharon and the fledgling relationship she and Steve had tried to cultivate, before circumstances tore them apart.

“Steve, sit,” Bucky said, easing his friend down into the chair. “Breathe. Just breathe.”

“I didn’t abduct her, if that’s what you’re thinking,” the Wolf Spider stated. “She willingly came through the portal with me. I sent her back to her reality after two days. She returned two weeks later, stepping through and nearly freezing herself to death. I hadn’t set up a structure at the portal, thinking that she had been bluffing when she said she wanted to help.”

“Then what?” came Alex’s coaxing question without prompting from Peggy.

~~~

Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…

“Then, she returned every so often,” Ivchenko continued. “She knew who we were, what we were, and what we were doing. She went into this with… how you Americans say it… ‘eyes wide open’?”

Neither he nor Sam answered that.

“Occasionally, Michael would meet her in her reality, and step through with her,” the scientist continued after a moment. “The medical marvels, the small amounts of technology that she gave us. They were not much, but they gave us insight into how we could create a better life for our people – for the world. That, and combined with the sample of Captain America’s blood that Yelena here brought back for us… I believe if given time, we would have found a cure for the common cold.”

Sam remained silent. Bucky caught his eyes on him, silently asking if he believed what Ivchenko was saying. That Sharon deliberately knew and willingly imparted 2020s technology to the Soviet Union in the 1950s, in another reality.

As much as Bucky didn’t want to believe it, he couldn’t hear any indication of a lie within Ivchenko’s voice, or see any sign of it in the way the scientist held himself. It was very disquieting.

~~~

SHIELD Headquarters…

“I placed her in danger, by continuing to associate with her,” the Wolf Spider stated. “When Stalin was assassinated, I was forced to flee from Moscow. It took me three months to evade the traitors hunting me and return to base, only to find it overrun. I tried to destroy the portal. I thought I succeeded. Over two weeks ago, the Black Widow managed to get a message out. The portal had not been destroyed. Sharon crossed, and she is now a prisoner of the faction of Soviet forces that led the coup.”

Bucky didn’t let go of Steve’s shoulder, but didn’t hold his friend down in the seat. He could feel Steve trembling underneath his hand. It was an incredibly disconcerting feeling, and even more so to see visible signs of distress in Steve’s expression.

“I need SHIELD’s help,” the Wolf Spider said, as Bucky flicked his eyes up to see the Soviet agent lean forward ever so slightly. “I’m not asking SHIELD to lead a coup, or help me take back what is rightfully my department. I am only asking for help to return my niece to her reality, and to destroy that portal before enemy factions within the Motherland can exploit it to full.”

The Wolf Spider paused for a moment before shifting his gaze up to stare directly into the mirrored window – seemingly knowing where to look. “If you find it within yourselves to forgive what I have done to all of you, I am begging you, Peggy… Steve – Captain America, and you as well, Winter Soldier… Bucky… to help me. Please.”

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: Sailor/Матрос

“That portal was destroyed, Steve.”

Steve looked up as Alex entered the viewing room, and placed the dossier on the table. “I know,” he answered his brother-in-law, trying to keep his voice as steady as possible.

The weight of Bucky’s hand on his shoulder was grounded comfort. As was the familiar warmth of Peggy’s hand that had briefly slipped into his own, before she went over and picked up the dossier.

“I saw the aftermath of the silo – of how that portal was destroyed. They said there were no other signatures found in the region,” Steve continued. “I believe them.”

The more he spoke, the better he was able to focus on the present and not on the story Michael had spun. Another portal, Sharon willingly helping the Wolf Spider, and then news of a coup—

“The Wolf Spider is not lying, Peggy.”

Bucky’s statement snapped Steve’s attention up towards his friend. It also brought the attention of everyone else in the room onto Bucky. The weight of Bucky’s firm hand on his shoulder hadn’t changed, but he could hear the absolute tone.

Steve didn’t pretend to understand just how betrayed and hurt Bucky felt, when the truth of Michael had emerged. He could only imagine just how much care and possibly hints of love that had grown within Bucky towards Michael, had turned into hate.

And how much that hate had driven Bucky for the past four years.

Now, to hear his best friend state that Michael was telling the truth was chilling. It was not an agreement with Michael, it was fact. And Steve knew just how observant Bucky had been during the war, and even more so nowadays.

Peggy closed the folder, frowning as she focused her eyes on Bucky for a moment, before shifting her gaze onto him, then onto Alex. Steve could see his wife wanting to ask, to press for clarification on the portal comment made by Alex, but also wanted to keep her promise to them to not press.

“A couple of years before Thanos attacked, Bucky – the original one in my timeline – and I were accidentally transported to Alex’s reality through a portal located in Siberia,” Steve stated before Alex could answer.

“Siberia?” Dottie questioned, curious. “What were you—“

“Investigating,” Steve cut her off. Except for Bucky here and now, who already knew some of the story, no one in the room needed to know about the Winter Soldier. Or details of that period of his life – not even his wife.

“We discovered that Alex’s reality’s HYDRA had been stealing technology from our reality. We stopped them,” he continued. “For reasons that we don’t need to get into, the portal remained open, guarded by both Alex’s SHIELD, and allies on my reality’s side. A few months before Thanos attacked, that portal was destroyed by allies of ours, per standing orders. Resurgent enemies of Alex’s SHIELD in that reality overwhelmed the forces guarding that other side, and attempted to invade. That portal doesn’t exist—it shouldn’t exist anymore.”

“What’s to say that Thanos’ snap and all of these timelines and different realities created by the stealing and replacement of the Infinity Stones created a mirror, a secondary portal, Steve?”

Steve sharply glanced up at Bucky, frowning.

Bucky lifted his hand off his shoulder and silently gestured for Peggy to give him the dossier file. She handed it to him and he placed it on the table, flipping it open. Taking two sheets of paper out, he carefully folded both so that the unmarked back was tented up on the table.

“Your original reality, this new one,” Bucky stated, pointing to the two tented paper. He took another, this time from the back of the file, and folded it upside.

“Parallel to the new one, Agent Barnes,” Alex quietly stated. “Tech, timeline, people, and circumstances are more comparable to this reality than to Steve’s original.”

“We did have a time differential, before the portal was left open,” Steve agreed, getting up from where he sat and stood near the makeshift timeline-reality display. “1986 in yours, 2016 in mine when Bucky and I arrived.”

The others had also gathered, as Bucky placed Alex’s representation parallel to the one they lived in. Then he took a pencil and placed it between Alex’s reality and the original. The folder was placed to the side, with Bucky murmuring, “That’s for everything else created after Thanos’ snap.”

“Stephanie Rogers did say that Ghost Rider gave them a device that could create a bridge portal between worlds,” Steve stated, tapping his chin with his fingers. “That your reality, Alex, was considered a nexus—”

“Because of the sheer amount of 0-8-4s being found and weaponized,” Alex stated. “The amount here so far is a small fraction, compared to my reality.”

“Its about the same amount that I remember reading about in SHIELD files in the original,” Steve answered, nodding once. “We did say no to her offer to bridge to the 2020s and to here.”

Bucky then added a pen, parallel to the pencil. “That’s for the 0-8-4 that transported you, Doc.”

“Maybe its not about 0-8-4s,” Peggy spoke up. She reached over and took the folder up, holding it in her hands. “Perhaps it could just be a chain of causality, brought on by the consequence of what happened in that reality with all of those Thanos.”

“A reset?” Steve questioned.

“Redirection, possibly,” Peggy mused.

“Possible alignment of overall circumstances, then?” Dottie guessed, reaching forward to shift the pencil to now connect this reality to Steve’s old one. “It would explain the 0-8-4 returning Dr. Carter here.” She glanced over at Alex, “that’s if your reality is truly similar to this one, Doctor.”

Alex remained silent. Steve did so as well, even though he knew Dottie had struck incredibly close with her guess. While the 1980s in Alex’s reality was different in timestamp from the 1950s here, most of the people and their circumstances weren’t.

Inhumans had begun to emerge here, much like how they had emerged in Alex’s reality – as far as Steve knew. An alliance was about to be negotiated, and certain players in that alliance were parallel to those who had attempted to negotiate a similar alliance in Alex’s reality.

Peggy was not Director of SHIELD, but she was one of four ranking SHIELD members with equal voices in carrying out SHIELD’s mission. HYDRA was gone, but in their place was a Soviet Union that was just as greedy to get their hands on 0-8-4s, and control the world rhetoric as HYDRA had been.

HYDRA in Alex’s reality had stolen tech from Steve’s old reality. Michael had confirmed that the Soviet Union’s Department X had done the same. Steve was not going to think about what Sharon had done at the moment – he needed to focus on the larger threat.

Dottie existed. While Steve normally wouldn’t have taken her into account, she had been a catalyst for a lot of change within SHIELD for that reality. She nearly succeeded in stealing the valuable child with the super-soldier serum.

Originally, she had died in his reality, was snatched, and resurrected in Alex’s reality. Then, she had been killed by Bucky – his original timeline’s Bucky. She was alive here, but was not a planted mole within this reality’s SHIELD. He and Peggy had no children – adopted or otherwise – but he knew Peggy occasionally had some thoughts about it.

Steve never pressured her, but he did finally tell her about his fear.

Finally, Bucky. Both code-named the Winter Soldier and SHIELD agent in both realities. Without a doubt, that was the biggest parallel that Steve could draw between this reality and Alex’s reality.

“Theories all and good, but we’re still going to have to destroy it,” Bucky quietly murmured.

“Agreed,” Peggy answered. “But we also need more information. Details.”

“It’ll be difficult to extract that from him, ma’am,” Lorraine cautioned.

“We only need coordinates,” Bucky stated. “Send Widow and I in,” he said, gesturing to himself and Dottie. “However Steve’s reality destroyed that portal, Widow and I can carry it out. Get in, get out, and blend if we need to.”

Silence enveloped the room, as all eyes turned to stare at Bucky in surprise. Even Steve was a little shocked by the suggestion. He thought that Bucky would have volunteered the two of them – or more recklessly and likely, just himself.

Steve didn’t know why Peggy never deployed Dottie and Bucky together – the Winter Soldier and Black Widow – but he never questioned it. He assumed it was just a matter of logistics, and the fact that the two together in the office had caused enough headaches. SHIELD did not need their antics in the office to translate out into the field – diplomacy would plummet.

But, it was a moot point – he had to tell them.

“I don’t know how the portal was destroyed,” Steve shattered the silence.

“Neither do I,” Alex spoke up before all pairs of eyes could stare, incredulous. “I wasn’t anywhere near that place when it was destroyed. I only know the aftermath.”

“And I was on a mission in Alex’s reality when it was destroyed,” Steve stated.

“Yeah, but—” Bucky began, puzzled.

“The tech that guarded my reality was more advanced than anything else I’ve encountered,” Steve said.

He tried to avoid mentioning Wakanda. He did not know if the country would react favorably to overtures from SHIELD, much less outright threats if any other country or intelligence organization got wind of how technologically advanced Wakanda was.

“Stark Tech,” Bucky stated, sounding unhappy.

Steve didn’t correct his assumption.

“If we take control and send someone to cross, will whomever controls Stark Industries be willing to help us destroy that portal, Steve?” Peggy asked.

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, and it was true. Stark Tech, or even Wakanda technology – Steve didn’t know when in time he – or someone else – would be crossing into. “I think I’m dead in that reality,” he stated. “Or at least declared dead in the aftermath. And so are most of you as well. I don’t know how my old reality will react to travelers, or what the political climate is like. We also don’t know who controls it on the other side.”

He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Regardless, we need to rescue Sharon. She’ll have a better idea of what is going on, on the other side.”

“If she’s not turned,” Bucky stated, darkly.

Steve held his best friend’s oceanic eyes without flinching or looking away. He knew and understood why Bucky had said that, and he wasn’t about to argue it. He was still in disbelief that Sharon would do such a thing – and the only logical explanation was that she had been brainwashed.

“Sharon Carter,” Peggy cut in. “Michael said ‘niece’.”

Eyes swiveled to Steve first. He shook his head slightly, saying, “I didn’t know her well during my time in SHIELD. Our duties didn’t overlap much.”

Bucky knew of Sharon because of the memories he showed him, but Steve was not keen on sharing the detail that she had been tasked by Fury to keep an eye on him. All he could do was tell the truth – that because of circumstances, they drifted apart.

His eyes were not the only one to settle on Alex, as the others turned their attention onto the doctor. Alex shook his head. “There was a Sharon Carter in my reality,” Alex reluctantly stated after a moment. “But I’m not of any relation to her, by reality or blood. I wasn’t her father.”

“You were, in Steve’s reality.”

Bucky’s quiet, oddly reluctant statement was a surprise. His expression was pensive, as if considering whether or not to continue to say what he knew about Sharon Carter. After a moment, he too shook his head. “Everything else I know is unconfirmed and hearsay. The 2012 data brick doesn’t contain dossiers on SHIELD personnel. The Soviet-HYDRA dossier on that reality’s Wolf Spider told of the relationship.”

“What is the hearsay, Barnes?” Dottie asked.

It was a most unexpected question. If Bucky was reluctant to say anything else, he looked even more now. “All I have to go on is what Dr. Banner told me when I was returning the Tesseract, Underwood.”

“There’s a relation there,” Dottie said, shaking her head slightly, before dragging the pencil and pen away. “She sounds like a smart girl—”

“She is,” Steve interrupted, not liking the insinuation Dottie had put into her words.

“All right,” the woman said, taking no offense to his interruption. “Who made some wrong choices in life. Such as revealing her relation to the Wolf Spider. Which to me, says that she knows who the Wolf Spider—“

“You’re forgetting that Ivchenko is there, Underwood,” Bucky interrupted.

“Without the ring, he doesn’t have the teeth to do what he’s done to my sisters, or to anyone else,” Underwood stated, with an undercurrent of warning in her tone. “Ivchenko willingly joined Department X, just because we had the means to provide him for the revenge he wanted. Then, Shostakov gave him that ring. He started his experiments on the intellectuals at the universities who had mocked his theories. It just escalated from there until the SSR stopped him. Now, all he has now are theories, whatever he turned the Wolf Spider into, and only one Black Widow left.”

Dottie paused for a moment before asking, “Sharon Carter willingly revealed her relation to the Wolf Spider. Why? What is the hearsay?”

“Nothing directly related to her. I stepped into the heart of the Soviet-American conflict when returning the Tesseract, and Dr. Banner warned me as appropriate,” Bucky answered.

“Alex Carter was killed in 1989, because his research was going to expose some secrets about a deadly radiation incident that the Soviet Union did not want to be released or known,” Steve stepped in.

He didn’t know why Bucky was reluctant to reveal that information. He saw that Dottie had a dog to a bone on trying to figure out why Sharon did what she did. They were not talking about this reality’s Alex, and even though he had been incredibly reluctant to talk about more than just his past association with the Avengers, Sharon became the tipping point.

If… when they rescued her.

He could feel Bucky’s concerned eyes on him, as he looked up, eyes focusing mainly on Peggy and Alex. “It’s unconfirmed that Michael, aliased as Michael Walker in my reality and not as the Wolf Spider, may have killed him. Sharon would have been about seven. Old enough to possibly remember.”

While not entirely true – especially since he knew that Michael Carter of his reality had surgery to graft another likeness onto his face after 1970, he knew that Sharon had been raised in the halls of SHIELD. He also knew that she had a keen auditory memory. That knowledge came from their chats in the hall of the apartment building, started first when she had spotted him with a record player.

What little the dossier on Michael Carter stated had only said facial alterations had been done. Nothing related to vocal alterations. If Sharon had been aware of her father’s work – or even if Michael had ‘met’ Alex wherever the Carter family lived, she may have listened in.

“Sharon’s skills at identifying people through voice-matching was rare in SHIELD,” Steve continued after a moment. “It is possible she remembered what Michael sounded like, and identified him through voice alone.”

“Voice alone?” Lorraine questioned, frowning. “Not physical?”

“The Soviets altered his appearance after a mission almost gone wrong,” Steve answered.

“It still doesn’t explain why she decided to help,” Peggy stated. If she was rattled by what had been said in the past few minutes, she was good at hiding it. Steve couldn’t read any signs of distress on her.

“Regardless,” Peggy continued after a few moments, “We need further information, but we’re going to have to tread very carefully here.”

* * *

Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…

“Hate to ask you of this, Bucky, but do you have any more knowledge or memories of this Dr. Ivchenko other than what you’ve already told me?”

Bucky shook his head. Knowing so little about Ivchenko was maddening, but he knew that Sam was wondering if his mention of what Ivchenko’s specialty was, could possibly have influenced Sharon to ‘help’ a known Soviet agent.

“So then, Michael…” Sam began, taking a peek beyond where the two of them were sitting a little ways away from Ivchenko and Belova.

“Carter,” Bucky supplied. “Aliased as Michael Walker. One of the five Soviet-HYDRA agents known as the Winter Guard. He was augmented to become a Winter Soldier—”

“Aw, for fuck’s sake,” Sam exclaimed.

“—before all of that, he was Peggy Carter’s brother,” Bucky finished up.

Sam fell silent, incredulous. The curse that he expected his friend to unleash was surprisingly not being said. “Okay,” Sam simply stated, seemingly not quite talking to Bucky. “Okay. I thought my life was shit growing up in streets full of gangs. Y’all take the cake for officially having shitty lives.”

Bucky nodded, but didn’t smile as he usually did whenever Sam used sarcasm to vent his frustration. While most of the time hilarious – enough to diffuse the tension and allow them to see a clearer picture, he couldn’t bring himself to find an aspect of humor in the current situation.

“We can’t ditch ‘em, at the moment,” Sam said after a few seconds of observing the two over Bucky’s shoulder. “But we’re going to need to find a way out, and soon—”

Another groan issued up from Sharon – sounding just like a gong up and down the tunnels again. Sam immediately stepped away, as both Ivchenko and Belova took an interest as well. Bucky went further down the tunnel, noting that it looked like Sharon was actually waking up.

He listened carefully for any signs of approaching enemies – there were none to be had. He didn’t return to where the others were, but stood peripherally outside of where Sam was tending to Sharon. It looked as if Ivchenko and Belova had been shooed away—

“Hey, you’re safe,” Sam’s gentle voice broke the silence.

Bucky saw Sharon blink, slowly that turned into rapid ones as she began to get her bearings. When she fully opened her eyes, she immediately winced in pain, but still clung to consciousness. She took in her surroundings, and Bucky saw her eyes widen a hair as they passed over him.

Then, she focused on Ivchenko and Belova—

“Mom?”

Bucky wasn’t the only one to stare in slight shock as Belova suddenly approached, knelt down and reached out; gently grasping Sharon’s bloodied hand. “I am here, little one,” Belova spoke in perfect English.

Soft, nurturing, and kind, it was almost impossible to believe that the current Black Widow of this era could sound so genuine. Bucky caught Sam’s eyes on him for a second, and shook his head once. He couldn’t hear a lie in Belova’s tone.

He was used to the seductive tone that the Widows employed – even when he worked with them on various missions. Of the Widows that he knew of, the ones that he killed tried to use their alluring wiles on him to escape and live.

It never worked.

This… this motherly, protective tone of Belova – and her actions, spoke volumes—

“No,” Sharon’s breath hitched ever so slightly. Wheezy, even with bandages covering what open wounds Sam was able to bind up, it was obvious that she was in bad shape.

“Not yet,” Sharon continued to murmur. “Not yet my mother. Still… have to save… you…”

Bucky didn’t miss the flash of sadness that crossed Belova’s eyes, as Sharon fell unconscious again. Sam shook his head, indicating that there was nothing else he could do for her at the moment. The longer they stayed in the tunnels, the worse Sharon would become. Her injuries – internal, from what Bucky could guess – from torture were slowly killing her.

“She told us that Yelena here was her mother in her reality,” Ivchenko stated. “And that her father was born in 1948. Alexander Carter. Still a mere child at the moment.”

The scientist gave a fond look towards Sharon before kneeling down for a moment. To both his and Sam’s surprise, Ivchenko then shed what was left of his tattered lab coat. With a glance at Sam – seemingly seeking permission to approach Sharon – at Sam’s cautious nod, Ivchenko approached. The scientist draped the coat over Sharon.

“I may not know Sharon as well as others did,” Sam stated as Ivchenko stood up. “But what the hell does she gain for helping you guys? Ideological wise, you’re in a fucking Cold War against the United States—”

“And SHIELD,” Ivchenko stated in a matter-of-fact tone. “While SHIELD claims to not be governed by any nation in the world, their demographics is primarily made up of citizens whose countries are a part of the NATO alliance. Even the champion of SHIELD, Captain America, is an American—”

Bucky reached out and briefly placed a hand on Sam’s forearm for a moment before withdrawing. Sam looked like he was about to argue the point of Steve not really having any sort of allegiance to the United States – or to any other nation anymore. But Ivchenko looked to be convinced that Steve still held biases.

There was also the fact that neither of them knew just how Steve was living his life. This tiny sliver of information – that Steve was working with SHIELD – was the first they received in a long while. Steve’s appearance in that all-out battle against multiple Thanos didn’t show him much of Steve’s life – except that he looked happier with Peggy.

They did not need to give Ivchenko any further information to work with. They were supposed to be transient – get in, get Sharon, and get out. Now that they were seemingly pinned down here for a while, they needed to be ever more careful.

Bucky understood that Sam still carried some uncertainty in his role as the new Captain America, but since receiving the shield, he had seen his friend grow more confident. That confidence had turned Sam into a staunch – and sometimes vocal – defender of the legacy that Steve had left behind.

Neither of them needed to feed the flames of whatever this Cold War was, here.

“What does she gain?” Sam asked again.

“A chance to make wrongs right,” Ivchenko stated, a genial smile on his face. “Or so she told the Wolf Spider, myself, and Yelena.”

“Stealing technology is not the way to do so,” Sam stated, folding his arms across his chest. “You… your leaders need to come to the negotiation table with other countries—”

“And how do you propose we do so, when they will not even accept our ideology? That they accuse us of using the 0-8-4s for weapons development—” Ivchenko began.

“It sure looks like that statement is true from what I’ve seen,” Bucky couldn’t help but state.

“Because it was all your fault, Winter Sol—” Belova began.

“I told you to not call me that,” Bucky hissed.

To her credit, either she was extremely good at masking her fear that even he couldn’t detect it, or had already survived an encounter with his counterpart here, Belova didn’t even flinch. “It was your counterpart’s fault, here in our reality,” Belova simply stated after a moment.

“Yelena,” Ivchenko started, concerned.

“He is different, Doctor,” Belova surprisingly defended. “He is unlike the horror that Sharon told us about—”

“The fuck?!” Sam interjected.

“Sam,” Bucky interrupted his friend before Sam could go on a tirade.

It was his past, and he had long gotten used to people hating him for what he had done – not just to SHIELD in 2014, but throughout the seven decades. Though it stung, he could only assume that Sharon’s memories of him were just that of the times they had encountered each other – in combat, and on opposite sides.

“—the shell of the original man the Wolf Spider described to us,” Belova continued.

“He was the perfect soldier,” Ivchenko stated, wistfully.

“Was,” Bucky softly interrupted, reminding them that even if his counterpart was not here, he still was. Whatever Sharon had told them about the Winter Soldier was enough unsettle him. Even with his fuzzy memories.

“Operation Midnight,” Belova stated after a moment, focusing her attention onto him. “Late 1946 to late 1948. Your counterpart here, along with his associate – Vera Fyodorovna Romanova – destroyed almost all Soviet assets and research capabilities to advance science for a greater good.”

“You should know her, Sergeant Barnes,” Belova prompted after a few moments of silence.

Bucky caught Sam’s glance over at him, knowing that Sam was asking if he had any memories of the woman mentioned. He dared not even make a short hand signal to tell Sam that he had fuzzy memories of Vera Romanova – aliased as Winifred Barnes.

His mother.

She was alive. As of 1948, and from the tone Belova used, it sounded as if his mother was still alive. Not dead, as he read in a HYDRA report file that was dumped to the internet; killed on September 25^th, 1946 at the coordinates of [63°17′34″N 168°42′05″W].

Bucky kept his breath steady, his grip on his emotions clear and firm. “What happened?” he asked.

* * *

Late afternoon, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters, rooftop…

“SHIELD Strike Team Bravo.”

Bucky glanced over to see Alex Carter approaching. His hands were stuck in the pockets of his duster, more to keep warm than anything else. Bucky stood upright from his leaning against the ledge of the rooftop.

He had reports to file, things to do in the office while Steve, Peggy, Lorraine, and other SHIELD Station Chiefs convened in a telecon to discuss the Wolf Spider. There was no need for him to go down and observe the Wolf Spider – who had been left in the interrogation room for the time being. Dottie was keen on taking another shift to watch over the Wolf Spider.

Peggy had been concerned, as Dottie had not gotten any sleep in the last twenty-four hours. But SHIELD’s Black Widow insisted, and Peggy eventually relented. But not before extracting a promise that regardless of the outcome of the telecon, Dottie would get some shut-eye after it.

At the present, Alex stopped before him. Bucky mentally shook himself out of his brief musing.

They were nearly the same height. This close to the doctor, Bucky remembered seeing a more youthful version of Alex – the man aged quite well and retained most, if not all of his good looks. Ruggedly handsome, with lighter brown hair that had hints of sandiness if the setting sun hit it just right; lips and nose the same shape and size as Peggy; but with the same kind of brown, expressive eyes of Michael—

“It’s something that you would have eventually asked, Agent Barnes,” Alex stated. “I worked with your counterpart long enough to see hints of similarities between you and him.”

“Strike Team?” Bucky questioned, nodding once to the preemptive explanation.

“Their function was similar to what I’ve read about the Howling Commandos,” the doctor answered. “At my SHIELD’s height, ten teams were in operation, ranging from groups of two, to a maximum of six. I was a part of Bravo. James, your counterpart, was Bravo’s leader.”

Bucky remained silent, as Alex briefly glanced down, reminiscing about something for a brief moment. “Almost everyone called him ‘Bucky’, same as you,” the doctor began, wistful. “He never corrected me; told me that he didn’t mind being called ‘James’. But, I digress...”

Alex’s expression became serious again, as he said, “James trained me. Trained us. Bobbi Morse, Montgomery Falsworth, Clint Barton, Leopold Fitz, and I. Clint left the team after a mission in Budapest had almost ended up with James dead. I left before that mission for different reasons – to try to find a way to cure the uncontrollable growth of the child with the super-soldier serum in her blood.”

“I’m not going to further develop your other skills, Doctor,” Bucky carefully stated.

“I know,” Alex answered, nodding once. “I didn’t expect you to. I took an oath to save lives after I got out of the SAS. James never allowed me to break it, even when it would have been the easiest way to resolve the problem. The dossier file on you is extremely light, just like the one my SHIELD had on Captain Barnes.”

In a quieter tone, he heard the doctor say, “I’m just wondering if I’ll ever get to know the real James Barnes, or will I be talking to the SHIELD agent for the rest of my life. No matter if I go back or stay here.”

At once, Bucky realized something profoundly sad about Alex Carter and the doctor’s unrequited love. He wasn’t surprised at Alex’s preference, but he was a little surprise that the doctor chose to confess his love for another man so freely. Less than two days ago, he had read about what happened to the talented Alan Turing. The same thing could easily happen to anyone in Turing’s shoes – him included.

Steve as well – if they were not careful.

“I only met you a little more than twenty-four hours ago, Carter,” he stated in a gentle tone that also served as a warning to not express those sentiments so easily. “You’re confessing to the wrong man.”

“I know,” Alex repeated. “You’re not him. There are similarities, but you’re not him. I just wanted you to know so there isn’t any sort of misunderstanding on both of our parts.”

“And you’re not your brother,” Bucky quietly stated, finally understanding the underlying meaning behind Alex’s words.

The doctor, even if he had taken an oath to save lives, seemed not to let go of his spy training easily. This was Alex’s way to warn that there would be times in the future where his actions would seem similar to the Wolf Spider – before the Wolf Spider’s true nature was shown. Those were the times where if in the field together, Bucky would need to control his instincts.

But, he doubted that the doctor knew of the other side of the working relationship he had had with the Wolf Spider prior to the Wolf Spider’s defection. The side where shame flooded him – not for falling in love with another man, but for failing in his duties because he fell in love.

The knife of being exposed that the Wolf Spider held at his proverbial throat was the same knife held at Steve’s throat. The Wolf Spider knew of the relationship between Steve and him. Conversely, both he, along with Steve, and even Peggy, held the same knife at the Wolf Spider’s throat. Of the sexual, seemingly caring relationship he had had with the Wolf Spider.

Which had turned out to be a facade in the end, even if the sex had been good, real, grounded, and fun. It would be a pointless lie for Bucky to admit that he hadn’t liked the physical part of his and the Wolf Spider’s relationship.

He remembered so many of the girls he dated as their rebound best guy, complained about the physical side of their previous relationship with their beau. It was a way to vent, to get their heartbreak off of their chests.

At the present, Bucky didn’t feel the need to complain about something that he had enjoyed, even if the other part of that relationship had been horrifically painful. But he was still all the more aware that what he liked, enjoyed, and wanted – even if he made his heart keep denying Steve – was immoral in the eyes of the world.

Homosexuality was all too easily blackmail fodder.

Yet, the Wolf Spider never used that blackmail. And God bless Peggy, she never attacked the Wolf Spider through that avenue either. Out of respect of the mutual destruction it could possibly cause, Bucky refrained from utilizing it either.

“Friends?”

Alex’s hopeful question and extension of his hand out to shake brought Bucky out of his musing yet again. He nodded once and grasped Alex’s hand with his flesh-and-bone one. “Friends,” he answered. “Call me, Bucky.”

“Alex,” the doctor stated, smiling.

Bucky let go, but before Alex could say anything else, he said, “Thank you, for letting me know. About… everything.”

“A mutual friend of ours advised me on this,” Alex stated. “Said the best way to alleviate any sort of misunderstanding after what happened, was to just tell you the truth.”

The edges of Bucky’s lips quirked up in an unbidden smile. “David.”

“Yeah,” Alex confirmed. “He’ll be all right. The stress of the morning just got to him. I asked Peggy to approve some immediate leave for him. He hasn’t taken a day off since joining SHIELD. He can use the time to rest.”

“Good,” Bucky answered. “Thanks for watching out for him.”

“So,” Alex then said, pulling his hands out of his pockets and leaned against the edge of the ledge. “What’s your favorite color, Bucky?”

Bucky blinked, staring at Alex, incredulous. “We’re really doing this?”

“We’re really doing this,” Alex answered, laughing lightly.

There was a richness in that laughter that Bucky hadn’t heard in a long while. It sounded more like Peggy’s laughter than of the Wolf Spider’s, and he found that he missed the sound. The world may have been more peaceful than the one Steve came from, but in the two years in the field, all Bucky had seen were faces of suffering and sadness. All of it brought on by tyrants and the power-hungry.

A world where even with SHIELD uncontaminated by HYDRA, still bore the scars of the legacy that gave birth to it.

* * *

Later…

“They kick you out, or make a decision?”

As dark as it was this late at night, Steve’s vision was still quite good. He followed the direction where Bucky’s voice had come from, and found him sitting underneath the metal awning that protected a tall electrical box. There were a couple of old, sturdy crates put together, and Bucky was sitting against one, staring up into the cloudless and moonless sky.

Steve could only assume the crates were used by technicians to reach the top of the electrical box, and took a seat on the other side. Leaning back-to-back against Bucky sent a more pleasant memory surfacing in his thoughts.

It had been years – so many years – since they had sat like this. Staring up into the New York night sky, trying to see and identify constellations.

As more dim as the London skyline made the night sky, Steve was glad he could still see and discern a few stars. “Still talking,” he said, after a moment, before reaching up and pointing to a familiar constellation. “Aquarius.”

He heard Bucky snort in laughter, feeling the rumble against his back. “There’s Andromeda.”

“Pisces,” Steve answered.

For the next few minutes, both he and Bucky traded constellations and star names within those constellations. Steve told him about some of the more fainter stars that Sam had pointed out when they had been in exile and camping in remote places. They were difficult to see with the London skyline, but if ever they decided to travel out of London, he reassured Bucky that they could be seen.

As a peaceful silence enveloped them, Steve swung himself over to sit by Bucky’s right side. “You okay?” he finally asked, tone gentle.

Silence answered him. Then, a quiet “No.”

Steve wasn’t quite expecting it, but relaxed a split second later, as Bucky leaned over to the side, resting his head against his shoulder. As somewhat exposed as they were on the rooftop, Steve knew Bucky would not have performed such an action unless he was certain no one was watching – even with a sniper scope.

Steve reached with his left hand and grasped Bucky’s right hand. Weaving their fingers together, he pressed his warm palm against Bucky’s palm. Steve let their entwined hands rest against his thigh, as he felt Bucky turn his face inward.

Bucky’s breath and the teasing hint of the edges of his lips, tickled against the skin of Steve’s neck where his sweater was not covering it. It sent a small bout of shivers down his spine, but now was not the time to think of such things. Steve remained where he was, allowing Bucky to get more comfortable – to lean against him in both a metaphorical and physical sense.

He knew how enormous of a courage it took Bucky to just say that one denial, much less show it. To admit that he was not mentally doing well. Bucky hated showing any sort of weakness – even to him. Steve knew it stemmed from years of shouldering burdens of being head of the Barnes family at such a young age, and constantly seeing him, Steve, ill.

Steve didn’t say any platitudes, or words of comfort whenever Bucky was in this sort of rare state – they never worked on Bucky anyways. Instead, Steve brought his right hand up and clasped it on top of their entwined hands.

“I wish…” Bucky began, speaking into Steve’s neck, words muffled. “Tell me about Caroline, please?”

Steve shifted ever so slightly, glancing down as best as he could. From what he could see, Bucky’s eyes were closed. Then, Bucky shifted so that he wasn’t speaking into his neck anymore.

Soft lips trailed across a sensitive patch of skin on Steve’s neck for a few brief seconds—

“Peggy told me you’re scared of having children. Alex told me a little about her condition,” Bucky quietly stated, eyes now open and seemingly staring out into nothing in front of him. “I just wanna know what she was like in that other reality.”

“Caroline looked like the splitting image of Stevie, of Stephanie,” Steve began. “Except that she had brown hair and your counterpart’s nose. When I first met her, she was a very curious, and precocious child – even with the serum accelerating her growth…”

~~~

At the same time, Siberian wastelands, underground tunnels…

They ended up moving further down the tunnels, following the barely flowing air currents. Bucky had thought he heard sounds of possible pursuers, but with the acoustics so strange in these tunnels, he couldn’t confirm. He didn’t want to leave a tripwire attached to a grenade either – that would just confirm to their pursuers that they were still in the tunnels. It would have also potentially brought down the tunnels upon them.

Now, they were resting for at least five hours. Bucky had only taken a short nap before relieving Sam of his watch duties. While his friend protested, he was firm enough to convince Sam that he needed less sleep – and it was true.

His augmentations afforded him the ability to stay awake longer than what normal people could endure. Between the fitful sleep, the constant traveling, monitoring Sharon, and the unknown of where they were, he saw exhaustion nipping at Sam.

It was only with the agreement to wake Sam up immediately if Sharon woke up again, that Bucky finally convinced his friend to get at least four hours of shut-eye. Of Ivchenko and Belova, both initially slept fitfully before exhaustion had overtaken them. Though in Belova’s case, Bucky could tell that as even-breathing as she was, she was able to wake up at the faintest noise.

When he returned his eyes onto Sharon, he honestly was not surprised to see that she had woken up without the groans or gasps that he had expected. There was pain in her eyes, but also clarity and a sharpness that he did not expect.

And they were settled directly on him.

As much as Bucky wanted to doubt that Sharon’s mother was Belova in their reality, the beginnings of a Widow’s training were showing through Sharon. It seemed that she had made quite a connection here.

Not to mention, that he knew the unspoken signal that she indicated with her eyes – a Red Room signal.

He approached silently, and stopped. Crouching down without a sound, he watched as she weakly reached out. He met her hand half-way with his gloved metal one, and she did not flinch.

<How long?> she questioned in Morse code.

<Fifty-six hours, seventeen minutes, three second since we rescued you.> he tapped.

What fear and determination he remembered seeing in her eyes during the times they encountered and fought each other, was not there. <Did they tell Sam and you?> she asked.

Bucky took a deliberately deep, but silent breath. He looked over towards Ivchenko and Belova, still sleeping. Operation Midnight, and what happened in the world since Steve had returned… it sounded so much more peaceful than what he had read – what he had shaped with his hands.

Peaceful, but so much more sinister underneath the layers of peace.

He understood why Steve was incredibly reluctant to get involved, even without the Infinity Stones in his possession any longer. The people fighting Communism craved for an icon, a person to lead, and a person to blame. Steve refused to give them that option. By being not a participant, he was trying to force them to come to the negotiation table.

On the other side of the Iron Curtain, the story was the same. The leader of Department X – Michael Carter – refusing to deploy the final Black Widow he had. Instead, he sent out his agents to collect 0-8-4s much like SHIELD was doing. Convincing Stalin to work towards peace, towards bettering the lives of their people. Showing that Communism worked.

And then, the coup happened.

Bucky knew better than to believe a biased story—

<Yelena Belova refused to serve as their icon. > Sharon tapped, dragging Bucky out of his thoughts. < They tortured the family connection o ut of Dr. Ivchenko, and then turned their attention onto me. If you do not believe anything else that either I, nor Dr. Ivchenko, or Yelena, then please just trust that Yelena will always have the best interests in me—>

<By letting them torture you?> he angrily tapped, before pulling his hand away.

Bucky knew that he had absolutely no right to admonish Sharon in that fashion. They were not even close enough to be considered acquaintances, much less friends. He couldn’t even tell if Sharon was under some strange Red Room brainwashing.

Yet, something still compelled him – urged him to remain as neutral as possible. To consider all options and information available. He could not judge them for what they had done to survive; he himself would have done whatever it took to survive.

Had done.

The war, and being captured and experimented upon by Zola; after the fall of HYDRA; putting himself in cryo even if he knew it would break Steve’s heart; refusing to contact Steve after he was cured because he knew they had to live separate lives; and finally… letting Steve go.

All to survive.

None to live; only to balance his own ledger, a waterfall of crimson.

He hesitatingly reached out again, and gently tapped, <Sorry.>

<I imagine that Steve would have reacted similarly. > she answered. A weak smile quirked up the edges of her lips. < The two of you are so alike, yet so different.>

< Get some more rest, Carter. > he stated.

But before he could withdraw his gloved metal hand again, she tapped, <Sergeant. My mother was about to defect to the United States , because she wanted me to be safe. A Red Room agent killed her in 1984. Five years later, an American operative killed my father. All because they saw him conversing multiple times with another Red Room agent aliased as Michael Walker. My father wanted to defect. To the Soviet Union. SHIELD…. HYDRA covered it up – they were forced to.>

Bucky frowned. <Forced to?>

<Rogue element. > Sharon tapped. < A failed operation to pin the death of my father on the Winter Soldier, and force HYDRA to give the order to assassinate Aunt Peggy. They didn’t want the chaos of the world that HYDRA was shaping, and the eventual control . They knew that the Soviet Union was going to fall in a matter of years. They wanted absolute control, of a world in a perpetual Cold War status . Fear itself.>

<Who are ‘they’?>

<My sources and my own research point to a single designation: Unit 616. > Sharon answered. < I’ve been chasing them since the fall of SHIELD. And I think they’ ve crossed, and just made their first move here with the assassination of Stalin.>

* * *

Meanwhile, SHIELD Strike Team Alpha – en-route to drop zone…

“Is the blindfold really necessary?”

“Yes,” Steve answered when it looked like no one else was going to bother to answer Michael’s question.

He didn’t blame the others sitting within the aircraft at all, for their lack of manners. After a consensus had been reached to destroy the 0-8-4 portal, Michael had greeted the news with the blandest of looks. Peggy had gone to deliver it herself.

Steve knew that she had hoped there was a sliver of the brother she knew still within Michael. That the words that Bucky had accidentally – deliberately, Bucky always insisted – invoked to trigger the ‘death of personality’ within Michael, had not completely erased him.

But it had all gone wrong.

They had heard the beginnings of Peggy trying to find some sliver of her brother. It had been thrown back in her face – snarled with such force that Steve had immediately left the viewing room. Only to find that he could not budge the door to the interrogation room open – at least not without force.

Then came Peggy’s warning to not force the door open. Steve had wanted to disobey the order, but the heartbreak he heard in his wife’s tone stopped him. As soon as he had returned to the viewing room, Bucky surprisingly flicked the switch on the window pane to shut the speakers off.

At the same time, without audio to record, or for the others to listen to, the tape that had been recording every noise in the interrogation room stopped. Bucky had taken the tape and wrapped it up, saying, “She needs to get this off her chest, Steve. He’s not going to physically hurt her.”

Steve didn’t doubt Bucky’s words; his best friend wasn’t even seemingly paying attention to the angry, awkwardly presented gestures of Michael, still sitting cuffed to the table. But he had been worried – for his wife, and for what he was seeing through the viewing room.

“She’ll unbar the door when she’s done,” Bucky had said, and then took him by the arm, while his right hand carried the tape. Steve had been spun around from where he was standing, and pushed towards the door.

“Let’s give her some privacy, all right?” Bucky had continued, as Steve saw him glance back towards the others within the room.

It was Dottie who had moved first. The fact that she was as unconcerned as Bucky was, spurred the others to leave. Taking one last look at just how vehemently Peggy was arguing about something with Michael, Steve had decided to leave it alone.

When Peggy was done, Steve would be there for her.

Steve was jarred out of his brief, straying thoughts as the present – and the not-so-light touch down of the aircraft, sent a series of bumps rolling through the aircraft. As soon as the green light in the cargo bay lit up, Steve reached out and hit the button to allow the ramp at the rear of the aircraft to descend.

SHIELD-North America, headquartered in New York at the former SSR building, had lent them the newest of their experimental aircraft. It had been contracted to Howard and Stark Industries to design and build.

While not the size and maneuverability of a quinjet, it was a fast transport for the 1950s. They had flown from New York to Los Angeles in about eight hours, stopped for fuel, and then flown another eight hours to their destination. The experimental transport’s pilot and co-pilot were a surprise to not only him, but also to Peggy and especially Bucky.

After what happened to Bucky’s family in New York, neither the three of them expected to ever see any of Bucky’s sisters or mother again. It was for his family’s safety that Steve knew Bucky never contacted them after that incident, and vice versa.

Thus, it came as a complete surprise to see Rebecca ‘Becca’ Barnes Proctor, and her husband, Peter Templeton Proctor, piloting the SHIELD experimental transport as pilot and co-pilot, respectively. Yet, when Becca and her husband laid eyes on the blindfolded Michael, what joyful reunion that was to be had, was silenced.

Even from the aborted greeting, Steve could tell that SHIELD-North America had trained them. When the two had joined up, was unknown, as Peggy had not known at all. Becca and her husband’s professionalism in light of just who they were transporting in addition to the Strike Team, spoke volumes of the years that had passed.

Not once during the journey to their drop zone, did Bucky even attempt to go up and speak with his sister or her husband. Not even when they were refueling in Los Angeles. It was all because no one wanted to give Michael any further information to glean or work with.

It was not a matter of if, but when Michael would negate the deal and askance for help.

As much as Steve hated hearing that – especially from Peggy herself, it was the truth. Peggy had exhausted herself in arguing and trying to find a sliver of her brother within that personality wipe. She had come away empty handed, and all Steve could do was hold her tight.

He could give her no words of comfort; in 2014, it was Bucky who had done the same to him.

All he could give his wife was that persistence in treating Michael like he used to be, could possibly bring him back. Thus far, Peggy had not taken his words to heart. Steve didn’t blame her, and gave her time to come to terms on her own.

The blast of bitterly cold air shook Steve out of his brief musings again. As he descended the ramp, guiding the still-blindfolded Michael by an arm, he stopped a few feet away from the aircraft.

The surroundings were generally more well-developed, but there was some familiarity in where they were. How they had ended back up on the Alaskan island that he had rescued both Bucky and Michael from, and why Philips had suggested that they rendezvous with the contact here, was puzzling.

Steve saw Bucky stop as soon as he descended the aircraft. He caught his friend’s glance over at him – wondering the same as well. While the landscape had changed a lot, there were still a few distinct areas that made the place identifiable.

One of which was that the hole that had formed in the collapse of the former underground HYDRA facility was covered by a large concrete slab. A ‘do not enter without authorization’ sign had been placed over the manhole covering. What more, there were some outlines and the beginnings of fencing that were spread across the perimeter, indicating unsteady ground.

“What… is that?” Dottie’s near-breathless exclamation brought Steve out of his ground observations.

The Black Widow was not the only one to turn her gaze up. Alex was staring wide-eyed as well. About a quarter of a mile away from where they had landed was an enormous structure – about 60 feet in height, somewhat rectangular in shape, with slats of grey-white but curved so that it looked like someone had cut a giant bowl into pieces and planted it into the ground.

“A White Alice, Agent Underwood.”

Steve and the others turned slightly, only to see two more unexpectedly familiar faces. Bucky’s mother and former MI5 Senior Agent Samuel Brewster. Last he had heard about Samuel Brewster was during the war, when the man’s apparent cover story for several decades was an inspector for Scotland Yard. After the war, he didn’t know what David’s father had been doing.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Barnes, Chief Carter, Agent Underwood, and….” Bucky’s mother began, shaking each of their hands in a professional, no-nonsense manner.

“Dr. Alex Carter,” Alex introduced himself, reaching out to shake her hand.

“Dr. Carter,” Bucky’s mother acknowledge. “Welcome. I am Vera Romanova, attached to the United Nations Special Tasks Group.” She gestured to Brewster, saying, “This is my colleague, Samuel Brewster, also of the Special Tasks Group.”

Brewster shook hands with all of them, sans Michael, as well, before stepping back. Steve was slightly surprised at the designation that was given to them. When he had studied the United Nations and their formation, he didn’t recall a ‘Special Tasks Group’ being formed.

“Envoy Philips debriefed the two of us on your mission. I will be bringing you in through the east side of the border. Brewster here will be relay for comm.”

At her mention, Brewster nodded once. Vera then continued, saying, “Let us bring all of you underground. Then it will be secured enough to remove that blindfold.”

Steve nodded in agreement. Even though Peggy outranked all of them, he was the leader for the mission. There were too many unknowns that they were walking into, even with what Michael had told them. If those who now controlled the Soviet Union had already sent their people through the portal, what they would return with would need his quick reaction and knowledge – however outdated it might be.

Vera and Brewster began walking towards the cordoned off area. Steve’s unease increased, and he noticed that Bucky’s stride next to him was hesitant for a couple of feet, before quickly catching up.

Steve took a brief look at the enormous structure in the distance again. He knew about White Alice – the White Alice Communications System. Sam had been the one to mention to him about the technologically advanced Air Force telecommunications system that spanned all around Alaska before the advent of satellite. But Sam’s mentions of White Alice had been more about the aftermath – the health hazards and high cancer rates from people who lived at or near a White Alice site.

Currently, there were no military personnel about. As strange as it was, Steve could only assume that the two STG members had cleared the area before their landing. Their entrance into the cordoned off area and apparently into a shaft, was much like what he remember him and Tony doing to sneak into SHIELD during 1970.

The elevator that carried them down was larger than the one that used to be in this place. Signs of fresh construction were all around them. When they got to the ground floor, what used to be an enormous bay was rebuilt. It wasn’t quite the same as before, but Steve couldn’t help but feel even more uneasy.

Of Bucky, there was a blankness in his expression, but his gait was fairly stiff. It was only then, after they exited the elevator, that Vera made a silent gesture to remove the cloth covering Michael’s eyes. Michael’s hands remained bound.

Steve did as suggested, but as soon as Michael got his bearings, his eyes narrowed as he growled, “What the hell? SHIELD rebuilt this fucking place?”

As foreign as Michael seemed to be to all of them now, it looked like the memories of a previous life, a previous personality, had remained. It didn’t make him feel any better, but Steve was a little glad that this ‘other’ Michael disliked this place as much as he and Bucky did.

“The Special Tasks Group did, Wolf Spider,” Vera answered, unaffected by the angry glare of Michael. “It was supposed to be an underground bunker for a select group of people chosen at random to preserve Humanity in the event of nuclear war. It has been repurposed from that role for this mission.”

She continued down and into a hall that looked freshly painted and constructed. It wasn’t one of the original ones that existed, Steve noted. In fact, it looked like none of the original halls of the former facility existed. Everything beyond the entrance area was quite new.

“I believe you’ll be relieved to hear that when STG excavated the site, we did find the body of Dr. Arnim Zola. A small sample was sent to SHIELD for analysis and confirmation, and his body burned.,” Vera continued, leading them down the twisty and winding halls that looked to have several unfinished rooms carved out for people to stay in.

Steve saw Bucky sag ever so slightly in minute relief, before adjusting his stance to be more alert. Behind Bucky, Brewster was taking up the rear of the group, and Steve saw the former MI5 agent wanting to reach out to briefly comfort Bucky, but held himself back. It was then, that Steve realized that Philips had briefed Bucky’s mother and Brewster on the true nature of the facility.

And what it had contained.

“Pardon the intrusion, but what was this place?” Alex asked. The question was so innocently curious, and Steve winced. “Wasn’t Dr. Zola a prisoner of the SSR? Files stated that he was kept Stateside.”

“It was a former HYDRA facility masquerading as an SSR isolated holding area,” Bucky surprisingly answered, tone calm and controlled. “A place where horrific experiments were born and realized by Zola.”

Steve didn’t reach out like he usually did when he knew that Bucky’s memories were haunting him. He didn’t want to draw attention on the fact that Bucky had almost been turned into the Winter Soldier here. Nor was he about to tell the others that Michael had also been kept here as a prisoner.

They were memories that even he wouldn’t wish on his worst enemy to remember.

“How does us being underground help?” Peggy asked in an effort to steer the questions away from the chilly atmosphere.

“SHIELD-Asia lent us a 0-8-4 capable of tunneling deep underground. But it is apparently a single-use device, and quite a drain on energy. Ten Tesseract-based packs were used to create the bridging tunnel between this facility to Провиде́ния.“

Steve blinked in surprise. Of the Tesseract packs that the SSR had left from the war, each site was given ten to use in an emergency – except for South America. South America would be the first SHIELD base not to rely on any old SSR technology. The fact that SHIELD-Asia had let the STG group use all ten of their packs just to build an underground tunnel to not be seen crossing, was a testament to how great the threat was.

But, even with an underground tunnel, Steve did wonder how exactly they would cross—

“Провиде́ния is a military port,” Michael warned.

“Yes, it is,” Vera answered, seemingly unconcerned.

“What are you hiding—” Michael began.

Vera abruptly stopped, turned and closed the distance to Michael. “Please lead them on, Samuel. The Wolf Spider seems to have some concerns that I must address.”

Brewster merely nodded and gestured for them to follow. Steve guided Peggy forward, murmuring a reassurance in her ear, before nodding at Bucky to keep going without him.

He didn’t like leaving Michael alone, even when he knew that Bucky’s mother could handle herself. It was strangely more for making sure Vera did not hurt Michael, than for Vera’s sake that he remained behind.

He was quite certain that Bucky’s mother knew what Michael had done to Bucky—

“You do not have to stay, Steven,” Vera said, keeping her attention on Michael.

“I’d rather stay, ma’am,” he answered.

Silence answered him for a moment before Vera suddenly lashed out, grabbing Michael by the front of his clothes, and lfting him up. Michael was at least a head-and-a-half taller than Bucky’s mother, but it didn’t seem to be an issue, as he was violently slammed against the curved wall.

Steve stepped forward in alarm—

“I should’ve killed you when I had the chance!” she hissed, before dropping him like a sack of potatoes.

The uneven chuckle that spilled out of Michael’s mouth was eerie, as he sat there, crumpled, but not wholly injured. “Then why don’t you, traitor? Wouldn’t it be poetic for two traitors to their own Motherland, ending their own miseries with each other?”

“Why kill one of my kind when there are so few of us left?” Vera stated. “The same reason that stayed my son’s hand, stays mine.”

“Sentiment,” Michael derisively spat out. “Love. Affection. Care. You wear them poorly Black Widow.”

“Not as poorly as you have done so yourself,” she retorted, before turning and left.

Steve watched her go, before he returned his attention onto Michael. Had he been nearly twenty years younger, still in the throes of relative ignorance of just how spies operated and spoke, he would have taken the argument at surface level.

Nearly two decades; the war, SHIELD, the Winter Soldier, watching his loved ones die, and returning to a world on the brink of nuclear war made him ever more aware.

“Here,” Steve said, reaching down. “Let me help you—”

“Fuck off,” Michael growled, roughly batting his hand away.

As much as Steve wanted to insist, and step in to help without consent, he didn’t. Instead, he stepped back and watched as Michael picked himself up, hands still bound. With one last withering glare at him, Michael walked away.

Steve watched him for a moment, feeling a wash of sadness tinged with guilt flood him. From the words exchanged with Vera alone, it was now clear to him that despite being a double-agent for the Soviets, even during the war, Michael had fallen in love with Bucky. And that he had fought the embedded commands as hard as he could.

Ultimately, Michael lost, in more ways than one.

Hate and spite now drove this new personality within Michael. But that hatred was not twisted towards the world – only to the people who had failed to see him – to save him. And now, Steve thought he finally understood that some of the hatred Bucky had for the Wolf Spider was directed towards his own self.

Both he and Bucky had been so focused on the Winter Soldier, that neither of them had thought that Zola and Ivchenko’s experimentation could have been completely different with the Wolf Spider. Bucky found freedom from those infernal commands with Steve and Natasha helping, but no one had reached out to help Michael.

Not even Peggy; even if she were not aware of how the Winter Soldier had been created.

They had all heard the cry for help so long ago, beginning in 1944, but had ignored it. And for that, Steve knew he – and the others – deserved Michael’s hatred.

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Rich Man/ Богатый человек

Eastern Siberia…

“Abort. Abort. Abort.”

That was the walkaway signal. Whispered, and barely heard by Peggy through the comm system that connected all of them, but loud enough that it was a clear sign that the initial plan was not going to work.

Peggy immediately pulled away from the sea-salt covered wall she was leaning against, and followed Dottie as they made their way to the predetermined rendezvous point. Alex met them at the intersection, calmly joining them without either a glance in their direction; his training as a field operative in the other reality quite evident in the way he carried himself.

The plan to get a transport, and travel further beyond the port city had been devised by Vera Romanova. She was only to get them in and out, and was not going to go with them, due to her status as a UN observer, and not SHIELD operative. Samuel Brewster’s participation was even more limited – to ensure that comm lines up to the port city were kept clear and not intercepted.

The UN had originally tasked her and Brewster to monitor the war and its aftermath in the Korean peninsula. Philips had asked for special permission to briefly retask the two STG members’ mission to the extent that SHIELD was willing to allow the UN to intervene in their operation. Because SHIELD-Asia was preoccupied with the upcoming Inhuman alliance negotiations, they had no one available to take the roles that Vera and her partner filled.

At the present, even with the abort signal, Peggy couldn’t help but notice that there seemed to be more unfriendly eyes in the port than when they first arrived. The thick, fur-lined coats that they had all been provided shielded them from the windy, ice-cold elements of the Siberian port they had emerged into. With most of their weapons concealed within the thick coats, they blended in with the denizens of the military port, including the military personnel.

At least that’s how it initially looked like to Peggy.

Steve’s shield was the most conspicuous thing there was, but it had been dumped unceremoniously into what looked like a canvas sack that held potatoes. As ignominious as the disguise was, Peggy had not seen any sort of complaint appear in her husband’s eyes about how his shield was being treated.

Bucky’s sniper rifle also could not be concealed under his coat either. Thus he had slung it over his shoulder, holding it much like the other Soviet soldiers walking about with their rifles.

As for Michael, once they surfaced from the strange underground tunnel and transportation system that had been built using SHIELD-Asia’s 0-8-4, they had unbound his hands. But Michael did not go weaponless for long – Steve had been the one to hand him his sidearm.

Peggy had seen Bucky make a move to intercept, but immediately placed a hand on her friend’s forearm to prevent him from doing so. It was not ideal, but despite the vitriolic words Michael had spat at her, she knew that allowing him to go unarmed in such a dangerous conditions was idiotic.

Steve had provided no extra clips in the pistol he had given Michael; the meaning was quite clear.

The fact that Steve became the literal shield between her and Bucky, and Michael was comforting and not. She could not stand seeing her brother as he was now, even as she heard the words Steve had said to her. She had found nothing of her brother left in that shell of a man that wore her brother’s visage. Neither did it seem that this ‘Michael’ wanted to cultivate any sort of good-will relationship with any of them, other than the mutual alliance they had at the moment.

As she, along with Alex and Dottie kept to themselves and took the shortest route that led them to the rendezvous point, she could see Dottie’s eyes constantly darting whichever way. Dottie’s hands were still in her pockets, but Peggy had no doubt that she was gripping her pistol in her right pocket tightly.

The three of them made it unmolested to the derelict-looking lighthouse in a few short minutes. Taking one last quick look around, Peggy tried the door and found it a little odd that it was open. She slipped in side, with Alex following her, and Dottie taking up the rear.

What she encountered inside explained the reasoning for the door opening with ease. Vera had her pistol calmly pointed at her for a brief moment, before holstering it. The lighthouse operator was staring at them with wide eyes, before Vera’s commanding tones in Russian drew his attention again.

A rather wide hole was situated off-center of where the spiral, rickety-looking stairs led up to the top of the light house. The covering for the square hole was a brass plate that was at least ten inches in thickness. What was left of the wooden flooring that had covered the hole and brass plate were scattered to the back of the lighthouse.

“<Clear at the nearest intersection.>”

Bucky’s voice issued up from the hole, speaking Russian. A moment later, his gloved hands appeared over the lip of the hole. Peggy immediately went over and helped him up. Alex appeared at her side a moment later to help as well.

The door to the lighthouse creaked open just as she and Alex finished helping Bucky climb out of the hole. Faster than she had ever seen him react, Bucky immediately pulled forward his rifle, even before she was half-way in reaching for her own pistol.

Fortunately, it was only Steve and Michael who entered, the former of the two closing the door. “<Six spetsnaz teams, scattered but converging on this point.>” Michael stated quite bluntly in Russian, as they all lowered their firearms.

Bucky was the last to do so, the cold glare on his expression matching that of the barely veiled disgust on Michael’s expression as he reported. “<Five minutes behind us.>” Michael continued.

“<In then, and move quickly down.>” Vera ordered, before pulling the fearful-looking lighthouse operator to the side.

Dottie was the first to jump down into the hole. Peggy urged Alex to go before her, before following him. Just before she was partially helped down by Bucky, she caught a glimpse of Vera shoving the lighthouse operator out the backdoor. There a sack slung behind the operator’s back. She could only assume that it was bribes that the operator was carrying and hurrying away with.

Landing onto the somewhat solid, but strangely not hard ground, Peggy immediately went forward, following the hand-held torchlight that Dottie had activated. Dottie and Alex had not gone too far forward, as Peggy glanced behind to see Michael dropping into the shaft. Steve followed almost immediately after Michael, then came Vera. Finally, Bucky was the last to drop in – using the drop, along with his metal arm to bring the heavy brass cover down.

Peggy winced a little at just how piercing the brief whine coming from Bucky’s arm was.

“Twist ninety degrees anti-clockwise, James,” Vera stated.

Through the faint light from the hand-held torchlights, Peggy saw Bucky twist the handle of the brass door. The noise of metal being scraped across metal was loud. But that split second of silence that fell between was shattered when a rumble above their heads was heard. It was followed by several definitive clicks, before everything fell silent again.

“Where are we, Vera?” Steve demanded before Peggy could.

“Tunnels that were carved since before my time,” Vera stated. “A network of them that the Guard Department archives state existed since the first Tsar—”

“How many minutes did you give the lighthouse keeper?” Bucky’s quiet question broke into the explanation.

Fifteen seconds later, the faint sound of an enormous explosion rippled through the air. Peggy could feel the walls around them shaking slightly, as some moss and dirt rained down on them. But it was quickly stilled.

“Three minutes,” Michael stated, eyes on Bucky’s mother. “Far too generous for your reputation—”

“Better than point blank murder—” Bucky’s growling retort was short-lived.

“I suppose, but that is your specialty—” Michael cut in, snidely.

“Enough!” Steve shouted before things could escalate even further.

He stepped in and placed himself in between Michael, and Bucky and Vera. It didn’t escape Peggy’s notice that Dottie’s sidearm had been pulled half-way out of her pocket, before Steve intervened. Of Alex, her younger brother was carefully watching the three.

Peggy didn’t need any further explanation to understand that the lighthouse operator who had been ushered out had thought he received a bribe. But the satchel most likely had been packed with explosives to kill the man – so that he could not identify them, or tell Soviet forces any details – if captured.

If the war had made Peggy’s stomach turn uncomfortably for every single thing they had to compromise to defeat HYDRA, this felt worse. But had she known what Vera and Bucky were going to do to that lighthouse keeper, she knew that she would have possibly done the same.

The Soviets could not know that SHIELD was here, and that one of their own had guided them in. Even if all Michael provided was not a lot of details and only a general explanation of what happened with the assassination and coup in Moscow.

“Vera, is there a plan to get out of here? And how?” Steve asked, bringing Peggy’s attention back onto her husband.

“We travel through the tunnels to another exit, far and away from the port,” Vera stated. “The explosives packed into the keeper’s satchel should be enough to be picked up by Samuel. It is the abort signal. He will flood and bury the tunnel that we took to get to the port.”

“So we don’t have a way back to the island?” Dottie asked, concerned.

“There are tunnel routes from Moscow to Leningrad,” Michael surprisingly stated. “If those sets of tunnels are a part of the same network.”

“They are,” Vera confirmed. “Another set used to exist from Petrograd… pardon, Leningrad, to Reval. That was flooded and buried.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Michael answered in a neutral tone. “The Leningrad exit is the only one that I know of.”

“That’s a very long way to walk from where we are, Wolf Spider,” Dottie spoke up.

“Then we best not waste any more time,” Michael said in a fairly condescending tone. Peggy frowned, wanting to admonish him, but held her tongue. It would do her no good to perform such an action. Her brother did not exist in the visage before her eyes anymore.

“The primary facility that housed Department X was built above one of the tunnels,” Michael stated. “Perhaps if we’re lucky, and parts of this system have not been buried, collapsed, or flooded, we might just run into it on our way to the other side of the coast.”

* * *

Elsewhere within the underground tunnels…

“Sam, we need to pick up the pace.”

Rather than stop and glance back, Sam merely shouldered more of the weight of Sharon onto himself. Despite her injuries, Belova approached and helped, slinging Sharon’s right arm over her own shoulders. Together, they hefted Sharon off of her feet and started walking faster.

Bucky didn’t bother watching Ivchenko follow them as he turned his attention back down the dark tunnel. He peered through the scope, the night vision setting showing nothing but the curved walls and ceiling of the tunnels for meters ahead.

He lowered his rifle, frowning.

The noise that prickled at his instincts to issue that order got just a little louder – but was still not within a normal hearing range. It was not the sound of booted feet that he heard, but the uneven noise that sounded not… human. He couldn’t tell what it was, yet, but all he knew was that they couldn’t linger any longer with their slow pace in the tunnels.

They had to find a way out – now.

Gripping his sniper rifle just a little tighter, he turned and jogged down the current tunnel to catch up to the others. Catching Sam’s nod at him, he ran past his friend to scout ahead. Sharon still looked too pale, but after resting for as much as they all dared, she had been able to at least slowly walk with them.

Bucky had not told Sam about Sharon’s confession yet. He was certain there was more to her story than what she had tapped out to him before passing out again. If this ‘Unit 616’ was true, then their control of this nascent Cold War was about to become even more dangerous than their reality.

He shook his head and dropped his awareness back to the present. The air currents were still not giving him clues, but now, he was just following instinct. Stopping at the a few meters ahead of the others, he stopped lifted his rifle. The scope showed nothing, except for the same kind of curved walls of the tunnels he had seen. But his instincts were telling him to turn right; that this was a better route than the other two at the intersection.

The right hand tunnel showed no signs—

Moss… sphagum moss. The first ‘sign of life’ he had seen within these tunnels – even as tiny of a sliver as it was. It started about a hundred meters down the tunnel, peeking out from the keystones that made up the central spine of the tunnels—

His instincts prickled at him again—

Bucky immediately pulled his rifle away, turned back and hurried to Sam and the others. “Down to the intersection, take a right. Sphagum moss a hundred meters down, on the keystone. Follow the trail. Hurry.”

He didn’t even wait for Sam to acknowledge the path, and continued past his friend – back down the way they had come from. Kneeling down, he pushed his sniper rifle towards his back to rest against his regular rifle. Then he pulled out two of the four grenades he carried, and some twine.

Twisting and tying the twine to the pins, he quickly set up the trap, hoping that it would be enough to collapse this section, while not taking the rest of the tunnels down with them. If he still had the choice to not set the trap, he would – but there was a sense of urgency, of danger creeping ever so closer, that filled him.

The sound was getting closer by the time Bucky was done, setting the grenade trap. He could definitely hear the distinct noise of faint clacks and scratches – of possibly dogs.

He curled his lips back in disgust. It should have been the first thing that his instincts should have gone to, to track them within this labyrinth of tunnels. But there was no time for regrets as the clacks of claws increased in volume.

Thirty seconds after he began to back away and towards the intersection, the faint sound of boots clipping on the ground began to fill the air. There were still no howls of the dogs picking up their scent, especially Sharon’s scent of blood—

Just as Bucky slipped into the corner and held his sniper rifle up at the ready a new set of strange sounds joined in. It was a whirring noise, much like how his old Soviet-built arm sounded. It took all but five second for Bucky to realize what that noise was.

Dogs were hunting them, but they were not ordinary dogs – they were robotic dogs.

He immediately peered into the scope, his right index finger pressed lightly against the trigger of his rifle. Nothing but the rounded walls of the tunnels graced his screen, but seventeen seconds later, the first signs of their pursuers appeared.

About seven hundred meters away, a soldier wearing modern gear that he did not expect to see in this day and age appeared at the end of the tunnel. Two robotic dogs immediately followed the silent soldier, glowing eyes shining brightly against the green of his scope—

Breathe—heartbeat—pause—fire.

~~~

“Earthquake?”

The ground roiled ever so briefly beneath them, but it was the steadily falling dirt and loose stone for a good thirty seconds from above them that gave all of them worry. Considering just how old and ancient the tunnels were, there was a big risk of sudden collapses.

Steve didn’t dare lower his shield. The sack, along with hay and other materials that had been used to disguise the sack and shield had been left behind.

“The тайга shifting above occasionally causes some instability—” Vera began.

“Grenades,” Bucky interrupted, making his way to the forefront.

Steve saw him pause a couple of feet in front of them, stopping at the intersection before them. It looked like he was listening intently for a moment. Steve heard nothing, but there was a grimness within Bucky’s expression. Bucky’s instincts were tightly honed—

“We’re not alone. Firefight approaching,” his friend suddenly declared.

Before anyone else could react, he then pivoted and ran down the path to their right. Steve immediately tore after him, seeing something dark briefly ripple underneath the thick coat Bucky discarded to the side. It looked familiar to Steve; the gifted vibranium armor Bucky had received from Tony prior to the battle against the multiple Thanos.

The clatter of the others chasing after them followed. Charging into a fray was almost never done by Bucky – whatever had caused him to uncharacteristically do so—

Steve’s thoughts screeched to a halt as he turned three winding corners, and ran directly into the firefight. Instinct screamed at him to bring up his shield as he ducked and felt the bullets pepper it. The ground, ceiling, and walls to either side of him roiled with punctuating impacts. His right hand was already tapping the sequence along the silver band on his left wrist.

Two second later, the cool, familiar weight of his vibranium armor cascaded over him – just as the split-second lull in gunfire gave him the opportunity to strike. Lifting his shield up, Steve tossed it squarely into the sea of black writhing bodies of soldiers he did not recognize at all.

Even with his helmet’s lenses HUD set to night vision because of how dark it was in this part of the tunnels, he didn’t know who they were. He only knew that they were definitely not the Soviet Army he had seen in the newspapers and television.

A second shield crashed into the soldiers just as his shield hit. Then came the loud report of gunfire filling the air – pushing the soldiers charging at them into a bottleneck down from this current intersection.

Steve spared a quick glance to his left – Sam!

His eyes widened just a hair larger—

“Fire in the hole!” Bucky – Bucky from the last time he had seen him in the 2020s, shouted.

Steve immediately retrieved his shield and whirled to crouch, bringing it up to cover his face, and Peggy as well. Tony’s gifted armor to her only protected her so much.

Two seconds later, Steve felt the pounding explosions of the grenades in his chest; breath forced out from just how compressed the air had become. The ground beneath him and the others buckled, and heavy chunks of debris rained down upon them. He could barely heard the others shouting and screaming—

“Falcon, go!”

Steve barely heard Bucky’s shout over the ringing in his ears. A swift breeze shooting past him had him opening his eyes. He caught a glimpse of Sam zipping up the enormous hole a few yards in front of them – blown open by grenades.

Sam was carrying someone, but soon, flew back down. Bucky – both of them, were already rushing forward to the other side of the hole to provide covering fire for the evacuation to the surface.

“Steve!” Peggy’s shout to him was enough for him to know that his wife was uninjured. She was already gesturing for him to give her a leg up to the surface.

Slotting his shield and cupping his hands in a stirrup, he quickly backed up to the center line of the ragged hole. Not a split second later, Peggy sprinted towards him, and landed one foot on his hands. He hefted her up, watching her leap up and land solidly on the ground.

Sam flew down again, just as the others followed Peggy’s lead. But even with the covering fire being provided by both Buckys, Steve could still feel stray bullets whizzing by his head. He made sure he was positioned directly in front of the incoming person he needed to lift. One by one, he and Sam got the rest of them out of there.

The evacuation to topside lasted all but thirty seconds. As soon as the last of them were sent up, it was only him, along with the two Buckys left. Steve turned and threw his shield with all of his might into the incoming soldiers. The soldiers were briefly bowled back – enough to give some room to Bucky – 2020s, Steve glimpsed – to lob another grenade into the crowd.

Steve didn’t even hear him shout the warning, but he retrieved his shield and ducked all the same. For a moment, he saw the action eerily mirrored by both Buckys – raising their respective metal arms to shield their own faces. Crouching and kneeling the same as well; twin-like mirrors.

The ground roiled like the boiling sea again. Chunks of dirt, moss, and snow fell, but the hole remained – though it did get slightly wider. Steve scrambled up, and stirruped his hands again.

Bucky – 1950s first, then 2020s, soared up. Just as both cleared the lip and landed top side, Sam swooped down. Steve reached up, and grasped his friend’s outstretched arm. He flew up, just as bullets peppered the area where his head used to be.

Sam cleared him about ten feet up in the air. It was cold and blindingly bright up here. Steve let go and landed on the cold but hard snow without injury, rolling forward to cushion the landing some more. He scrambled up, backing further away from the lip of the hole—

“Northwest!” he barely heard Bucky – one of them – shout.

Just as Steve was about to turn, he saw the beginnings of black gloves from a soldier down below, scrabble over the lip. Slinging his shield forward, Steve was about to toss it, before a rather loud report of a rifle echoed across the snow-covered tundra.

“Go! They need your help!” Bucky – 1950s, the one covered in the all-black armor – said, sniper rifle held up.

Steve nodded once, slung his shield back into its slot, and turned. He could see the others ahead, making their way across the thin layer of unpacked snow. In the distance, Steve saw a mountain range, but nothing else. It would make sense to get to the mountains to lose their pursuers, but considering the distance and cold conditions—

It didn’t matter – they had to make it to safety.

Another report of a rifle shot behind him spurred him on. To his left, he saw Bucky, 2020s, dark blue uniform stark against the blinding white of the reflecting snow, swing around and kneel. The sniper rifle he held up looked slightly familiar, but Steve couldn’t place it.

It took a few short seconds for Steve to catch up with the others. Sam was in the lead, with Dottie flanking him. Vera was running near the middle of the pack – trying to help another blond-hair woman carry Sharon. Steve could only assume that the blonde-haired woman was Yelena Belova.

Dr. Ivchenko was trying to keep up with the two. Peggy was helping Ivchenko, while Alex was trailing behind, flanking Michael. Just before Steve ran past Michael, he took out the rest of the pistol’s clips and shoved it into his brother-in-law’s hand. It was a life-or-death situation; he was fairly sure Michael would not betray them right at this moment.

He sped up without looking back, and caught up to Vera and Belova. “I’ll take Sharon!”

The two women glanced at him while continuing to run as fast as they could. But it was quite obvious that they were slowing down due to carrying Sharon. Steve ignored the sight of just how injured she look.

It took some slight coordination, and some jostling – to which Steve hoped they hadn’t injured her further – but eventually, he had Sharon in his arms. Clutching her close, he pushed himself to run faster. Relieved of their burden, both Vera and Belova were now keeping pace, with Alex and Michael still flanking them. It was clear that the safety of the mountains in the distance was their goal.

Every so often, Steve would see either Bucky flit on the right or left side of the motley group. Both were apparently ranging and exchanging overall flanking positions. When Bucky – dark blue uniformed – would catch up on their left, and run just slightly ahead of the group, he’d then turn and range their rear with his sniper rifle. As soon as the group passed him, that was when the other Bucky – black vibranium armored – would do the same, except on their right.

It was… a little odd to watch them perform the maneuver with absolutely no hand signals or even comm signaling – like a syncing metronome. And Steve knew he wasn’t the only one to witness just how strangely coordinated the two were. Peggy’s expression mirrored that of Ivchenko as they briefly followed the ranging movement – puzzlement.

Minutes passed, punctuated with the report of sniper rifles from either Bucky, and a couple of bursts of rifle and pistol shots from Alex and Michael, respectively. The snow crunched below them, the biting cold was affecting all of them. Sam was slowing down, as was Dottie. Yet, the mountains still remained far out of reach—

“Widow! Widow do you copy?!”

Steve heard Sam’s faint shout, and it gave him hope. Strike Alpha had no way to contact those left in Alaska, not after what happened. Steve didn’t even know the frequencies or encryption that the White Alice system used; contacting the military base on that Alaskan island could not be done.

Though not tuned into the frequency, he heard Bucky on the left faintly shout, “Silo location, south-east face of the highlands. Twenty klicks.”

Steve managed not to stumble, as he realized just where they were, relative to the Siberian wastelands; close to where the missile silo in the other timeline was. When he and Bucky flew to Siberia in 2016 to stop Zemo, they had flown in from the northwest.

If that silo existed now, it was probably somewhere in the mountain range in front of them. But it would explain the direction they were headed. Steve remembered Bucky telling him long ago that he had trained many of the Soviet agents, including the infamous Winter Guard. That he had thrown many candidates to the wild; forcing them to survive on wits and ingenuity alone.

Bucky – his original timeline Bucky, remembered.

It wasn’t a cheering feeling that briefly filled Steve as they continued to run towards the mountains, but rather a melancholic one. Yet, that was quickly dashed as Steve noticed that Sam was slowing down rapidly. The others, including Steve, slowed as well. If Natasha – or help – was on their way, their running until they were beyond exhausted would not be good if Natasha fell short of reaching the LZ.

“Bounce the shield, Falcon,” Steve heard Bucky – dark blue uniformed – say.

The other Bucky was still hanging in the rear, keeping an eye on their six. Both Michael and Alex were staring at Sam and Bucky with some mixture of confusion. And more than a few were glancing back and forth between the two Winter Soldiers – as if they could not believe their eyes.

Though he knew that he should be taking up guard with Bucky – black vibranium armored – Steve remained where he was. If they needed to move, offloading Sharon to Vera and Belova and back would take too long.

It seemed Sam understood what was being asked, and briefly took flight. Sam’s shield rocketed down onto the ground, bouncing three times the height of their heads. Bucky – dark blue uniformed – immediately raised his sniper rifle and shot the thing higher. It spun as well – and Steve couldn’t help the slight grin that tugged on the edges of his lips.

The shield was reflective enough against the light, but against the bright, cloudless sky, spotting a rather relatively stationary, but reflective object could only be done at certain angles. Bucky sending a spin to the shield higher up into the air gave the sunlight an opportunity to reflect over several revolving angles.

Just like a signal flare – except metal.

Even before Sam caught his shield again, both he and Bucky winced. There must have been some electronic feedback through their comm system. “Southwest,” Sam stated, shaking his head as he picked up his shield. “That’s all I got.”

“Bottleneck at the portal then – in and out,” he heard Bucky mutter.

Alarmed, Steve took a step forward towards Sam and Bucky. There was the heavy implication of a possible enormous firefight at the Siberian portal. Possibly large enough that if Natasha was inbound, then she had to fight to get through.

And she could possibly be bringing trouble with her—

“Северная Земля,” Michael quietly stated, briefly drawing everyone’s attention to him.

“Uh, what?” Sam questioned.

“Northern Land,” Bucky – black armored – supplemented before his counterpart could say a word. Steve noticed that he had stepped closer to the group, but remained as far from Michael as possible. “Archipelago chain,” Bucky continued, before turning a stony, icy glare onto Michael. “Rumor has it that your people have a fuck ton of heavily guarded research stations on that chain—”

“Uh… who are you—” Sam cut in, eyes on Michael. When Michael didn’t immediately answer, Sam then glanced over towards Bucky – blue uniformed one.

Steve couldn’t help but frown slightly as Bucky shook his head, shrugging ever so slightly. Bucky from the 2020s didn’t remember Michael. It didn’t escape Steve’s notice that a brief surprise flitted across Michael’s face at the admission.

Ivchenko spoke up, surprising them. “This is our commander that I have been telling you about for the past few days, Captain Wil—”

“That’s Mister, Doc. Not ‘Captain’. Retired. Never reached officer anyhow,” Sam cut in, shaking his head slightly. “So you’re the Stalin-whisperer,” Sam continued to say, directing his comment to Michael.

“Sam Wilson,” Sam introduced himself, and stepped in to briefly shake Michael’s hand, much to everyone’s surprise.

It was short lived though, as Steve saw Bucky – black armored – turn to his left. “Incoming, southwest,” Bucky curtly stated.

“Our ride outta here—” Sam quipped.

“With a lot of enemies chasing that aircraft,” Peggy spoke up. She lowered her binoculars, pointed in the same direction that both Buckys had their sniper rifles pointed at.

“Most likely from our timeline,” Bucky – blue uniformed – quietly stated. “Unit 616, or so Carter claims.” Bucky gestured to Sharon with a slight flick of his chin. “She might know more, if she lives.”

It seemed that Sharon’s knowledge or designation of the potential enemies pursuing Natasha – and them from the underground – was not known to Michael and his compatriots. They wore their frowns and confusion openly. At nearly the same time though, Steve noticed that Belova looked even more worried, when she focused her eyes on Sharon.

“Северная Земля is the only secured route out by air,” Michael spoke up. “Personnel at the various stations are trained not to stand down unless a certain response is given across a certain frequency. I know that response and frequency. It hasn’t been compromised yet.”

Ten seconds later, Steve heard the beginnings of an incoming quinjet, but there was still no consensus. They had to make one, and remaining here was not an option. Steve glanced over at Sam – it was Natasha’s quinjet they were riding in. He didn’t know if Sam or Bucky were told of Michael’s history here, but he wouldn’t have put it past Ivchenko to have told the two.

Ultimately though, it was Natasha who would be piloting them out. She knew what Michael was. But there was also Sharon to consider; still passed out in his arms, and bleeding through her bandages and clothes. They needed to get her to a hospital quickly.

“I’ll—” Steve began.

“I’ll convince Natalia,” Bucky – blue uniformed – stated without any sort of emotional inflection in his tone. As neutral as the tone was, Steve saw a hint of warning in the quick glance directed to him. Steve flicked his eyes over to see that Bucky’s counterpart was looking quite angry.

But there was no time to cool tensions, though Steve knew that he needed to find someway to keep the peace between Bucky – his Bucky here and now – and Michael – and Michael’s cohort. Peggy was level-headed enough to stay away, but they did not need Bucky, right here and now, to go off on his own.

“Can’t stop at the research bases,” Michael began, looking slightly wary. Whatever else he was going to say was lost to the incoming scream of the quinjet.

A thin trail of smoke was trickling out of the quinjet’s starboard engine. There were other signs that she had taken some very recent damage, but it looked mostly like carbon scoring. Natasha set the bird down – hovering a few inches above the ground – with the usual efficiency.

There was no time to gawk at the quinjet. Steve hurried into it, and gently laid Sharon down across the seats in the cargo hold. As he secured the crash webbing over Sharon, he heard the others clamber into the quinjet.

“Got a medkit?” Alex shouted.

“Here!” Sam answered.

Steve stepped back from Sharon and strapped himself into the seat across from where she was, just as Bucky – blue uniformed – hurried in and slapped the button to close the cargo bay door. The crank and clank of the ramp closing couldn’t be heard over the noise of the engines whining as the quinjet VTOL’ed up.

Bucky rushed past Sam and Alex who were working together to stabilize Sharon and control her bleeding, disappearing into the cockpit. Steve couldn’t tell if this quinjet was Natasha’s personal one or a new one, but she was definitely carrying a lot of cargo.

Most of it armaments.

It told him that Natasha was prepared for a protracted fight. That perhaps she and whomever were on the other side knew what was on this side of the portal. He hoped that it was Wakanda who had stocked her up for the trip to pincer and possibly clear out a way to the portal.

None of the crates he saw packed in the netting on both the port and starboard sides had Wakandan markers. But Steve knew that the country had helped clear out the caches that he, along with Sam and Natasha had found from their Red Room hunts. It was better to keep the weapons found out of the black market, even if Wakanda had not a lot of usage for more ‘conventional’ weapons.

Sitting to his left was Michael, the warily neutral look on his face still there. But Steve saw the barest hints of worry in his eyes – focused on Sharon. Of Belova, she sat next to Sharon – as close to her as Alex or Sam would allow while the two worked. Ivchenko sat next to Michael. Dottie to Ivchenko’s left. Peggy next to Dottie, and Vera across from her. Bucky – black armored – sat at the end of the quinjet, closest to the cargo bay door.

The door between the cargo hold and cockpit swished open. The partial shadow of Bucky – blue uniformed – appeared at the threshold. Steve saw him reach up to grab what looked like the comm speaker, when a sudden warning tone sounded from the cockpit.

The quinjet bank sharply. Both Sam and Alex briefly lost their balance, but managed to not stumble or bump into Sharon. The cockpit’s alarm for a missile lock continued to drone, as Natasha maneuvered the quinjet this way and that. Bucky disappeared back into the cockpit. Steve thought he saw some rapid hand gestures being exchanged between the two—

“Hold on! This is gonna get bumpy!” Natasha briefly declared over the internal comm system.

Three seconds later, the quinjet tipped into a steep nosedive. Yelps filled the air.

Steve managed to grab the side of his seat, and brace Michael with his hand at the same time. Both Alex and Sam had barely strapped themselves into the jump seats – Sharon remaining safely and somewhat stationary to where she was.

“Barnes! <Watch it—>” Steve heard Natasha’s faint shout of a mixed English and Russian across the open cockpit door.

“<Shut up and blast the rock, Red!>” came the equally strained reply in Russian, before the quinjet suddenly tipped almost 90 degrees port before suddenly righting itself.

Steve could only guess that Bucky and Natasha had switched piloting and co-piloting roles. The rumble of the quinjet’s Gatling was felt, but it definitely overrode the sheer amount of g’s he was feeling with the banks and rolls. While he was used to Natasha’s flying style, Steve was wholly unprepared for Bucky’s incredibly aggressive, speedy style.

Sharply whining engines sang over the Gatling, speeding them closely past mountain and craggy rock faces. At least that was what Steve thought he was seeing out of the glimpses he had of the cockpit face. He was rocking back and forth pulled at whim by gravity, while trying to brace Michael as well.

Seventeen seconds later, all the twists, pulls, and winding shuddered to a halt. “<Told you. Remembered it like the back of my hand.>” came Bucky’s rather matter-of-fact statement directed to Natasha.

“Give me the stick,” was all Natasha answered. “And get the Wolf Spider on the horn, Barnes. We’re getting clo—”

Natasha didn’t get to finish her statement as something slammed into the quinjet. Not in a severely physical impact, but rather a cascading buzzing noise. Sparks suddenly jumped everywhere, and the acrid smell of electrical things being fried filled the cargo hold.

“EMP—shit!” Natasha began.

They were dead stick, flying or rather, gliding. Steve felt his stomach drop as the quinjet – not built for gliding at all – began to fall in a parabolic arc. He could hear the frantic flicking of switches and the like from the cockpit as the two tried to forcibly restart the engines.

“Brace for impact!” he heard Bucky shout from the cockpit.

The landing was rough, but it wasn’t the straight out crash that Steve anticipated. He could hear them skidding across ice and snow. The awful wrenching noise that he had expected of engines or even wings shearing off never came.

Finally, after about a full minute of sliding, the quinjet finally halted with a jarring bump. Steve could only assume they hit a rock face, or at best, a rather large snow bank. He immediately stripped the crash webbing off of himself as Natasha emerged from the cockpit, with Bucky closely following her.

“EMP fried the primaries, but didn’t touch the secondaries,” Natasha stated. “I need you guys to buy me as much time as possible for me to construct the bypass to secondaries, and make sure our engines aren’t going to blow up.”

Before anyone could move, Natasha continued, saying, “Sam, I’m gonna need your help. 2020s tech and all.”

Sam caught Alex’s nod; Alex able to continue to patch Sharon up as best as he could, while the others defended the position. It need not be elaborated further that even if it were not a life or death situation, the majority of them were only exposed to 1950s tech at its finest, and definitely not something like the quinjet.

“Steve,” Natasha began, glancing over at him.

“Got it,” Steve answered, nodding once. Natasha was relying on him to lay out the plan to defend the area.

“All the crates from the hunts,” Natasha grimly answered his unspoken questions about weapons. “Except for the two items stored along the central compartment. I think you two Barnes boys might find those more useful than anything else.”

~~~

“Ten JX-135s on our tail, possibly more before we hit the mountains. They’re smaller and faster than this quinjet. At least five armored transports in the mountains that caught our scent,” Bucky stated, as he knelt down and twisted the floor rings to lift a portion of the central compartment cover off. “Thirty soldiers, possibly wearing similar armor like the ones underground—”

“Thirty isn’t too bad—” the familiar, haughty-looking woman who stood next to Peggy, interrupted.

“Per transport,” Bucky finished, glaring at her from where he was. “Flight capable. We’ve landed on Таймы́рское о́зеро.”

Silence answered him and remained for a few long seconds. It was punctuated with Sam moving to help Natasha. Fortunately, Steve took charge, issuing orders as Bucky saw his counterpart at the aft end of the quinjet hit the same button he had struck earlier, to open the bay doors.

Bitterly cold air and light snow poured into the quinjet. Bucky reached down into the compartment to pull forward two long crates, while the others began to take down the other crates from the netting on either side of the quinjet’s cargo hold. They were careful to avoid hitting the man working on stabilizing Sharon.

He caught a glimpse of his counterpart hurrying out to take a quick survey. Then, “Fuck! Lake’s not completely frozen! We got about fifteen feet from lip to the edge where it begins to get flaky.”

“First freeze must have happened five days ago,” Bucky heard Michael Carter state. “Radius of ice may be ten meters, maximum. Thickness probably at least half a meter or less.”

When Sam had asked who the man was, Bucky had feigned ignorance. It was not completely false.

His memories of the man named Michael Carter, aliased by the Soviets as Michael Walker in their timeline, were not firm. All he really remembered of the man was what Carter looked like with another face.

But during the brief moment he had seen the man among the rest of Steve’s group, it was clear that most, if not all of them ostracized Carter. He didn’t blame them. In this timeline, Michael Carter was a known and active Soviet agent; the leader of the counterpart group to this timeline’s SHIELD, Department X.

However, seeing the same kind of disgust and anger reflected on both his counterpart and Peggy when they looked or were even near Michael, surprised him. It was further compounded by the fact that Steve was clearly displaying similar attitudes, though there was restraint in Steve’s actions towards Carter.

Ivchenko had not been lying when he said Carter betrayed those closest to him. Whether Ivchenko’s further opinion on that justification of betrayal, to ‘bring about peace in the world’ was true, was debatable.

Of the others, he recognized all but one of them. Dottie Underwood, who had stated that rather arrogant, ill-formed statement of thirty troops. It looked as if Steve, Peggy, and even his counterpart trusted her.His mother – Vera Romanova, aliased as Winifred Barnes – alive and well. The man currently tending to Sharon was unknown, but looked similar to Peggy and her older brother. Bucky could only guess that the man was of some relation to the two.

Yet, feigning ignorance on knowing Michael felt… right.

Running into his counterpart underground, then the eerie coordination between the two of them to get out, followed by flanking and ensuring that their six was fully covered had been strange. Whenever he saw his counterpart move, he felt a ghost of it. Even stranger, he knew of his counterpart’s movements and thoughts just a split second before they happened.

And it was that strange, ghostly feeling of absolute hatred towards Carter that caused Bucky to deny what little memories he had of the man. It seemed to ground him, and lessen the strange other-sense he kept getting from his counterpart.

Steve issuing more orders based on the brief estimates that were provided drew Bucky out of his thoughts. As soon as the man tending to Sharon moved to the side, Bucky reached over to open the other panel along the center line of the quinjet.

He quickly pulled out both long crates and snapped the compartments closed. “Steyr IWS 2000,” he couldn’t help but whisper in surprise, recognizing the markings on the crate.

“Shit, Nat… where’d you get two Steyrs?” Sam’s whistle of surprise briefly pierced the noise of other crates being opened and weapons taken out.

“Old cache in DC,” Natasha answered, dragging a thick-looking coil out of a port panel near the cockpit bulkhead. “Set up in late 1991, in preparation for the first mission that myself, along with the Winter Soldier, and the newly enhanced Winter Guard were going to undertake.”

The question of what kind of mission required not just one, but two anti-materiel rifle to be readied, lingered in the air. Bucky caught a glimpse of Underwood wanting to ask that question, but thankfully, Steve was already steering the woman away and to her defensive position.

Ignoring the wide range of looks that he received from his mother, Carter, and Peggy, Bucky picked up the two crates – one in each hand, and made his way to the rear of the quinjet. It was clear from their looks that they knew something of what happened to him in Steve’s original timeline. How much, he found he rather did not care.

He was no longer the Winter Soldier.

There was little to be exchanged by either him or his counterpart, as Bucky found him at the edge of the ice floe they had landed on. Fortunately, it looked like they had skidded far enough ashore that only less than a third of the quinjet – namely the rear – was sitting on the ice. The rest were nosed into the dirt they had plowed up upon landing.

“Steyr,” Bucky stated, handing his counterpart one of the crates. He didn’t recognize the sniper rifle that his counterpart had slung over his back, before taking the crate. “Anti-materiel, single-shot, smooth-bore. Max range: 2,500 meters.”

His counterpart snorted, grimly smiling. Whether it was just still the strangeness that lingered, or the fact that there were just patterns and habits that both of them had, they set the crates down and quickly assembled the rifles.

“It’s a little eerie, seeing the two of you perform the same exact actions,” Steve spoke up, boots crunching on the ice with his approach.

Bucky remained where he was, carefully calibrating the scope as best as he could under the circumstances. But just as he was about to say the words, his counterpart said, “Call us twins, and I’ll… we’ll punch you, Steve.”

He heard the near-whisper of the slightly exasperated sigh from Steve. And after all this time, Bucky found that he missed hearing that. Dashing the brief nostalgic thought away, he focused his thoughts on the incoming danger – his sixth-sense of sorts prickling a little more than it usually did in the back of his mind.

He lowered his rifle, noticing that he did so at the same time his counterpart did as well. They glanced at each other, then away. A disconcerting feeling briefly filled Bucky, tapering off into an odd, foreign echo within him.

Eerie indeed.

Bucky shoved away the oddity of it all. “Where do you need us?”

“Can’t go too far. Nat’s bound to gun it as soon as power is back,” Steve stated. “Can’t stay too close. Think you guys can make that small hill over there work?”

Where Steve was gesturing was not quite a hill, but a broken-off part of the mound of earth that the quinjet had pushed up. Bucky glanced over to the other side to see that his, or rather his counterpart’s mother, was positioned with Carter on another broken-off mound. The two had an RPG, and something else that Bucky couldn’t quite see, due to the angle.

Natasha had definitely brought a lot of firepower with her.

And that worried Bucky.

If the trailing smoke from her quinjet when she first arrived was anything to say about the state of things at the portal – it was worse than he and Sam thought. He really hoped that whomever Natasha had gotten to try to hold the portal were strong enough. Considering the sheer amount of forces the quinjet’s IFF had picked up before the EMP hit, Sharon’s Unit 616 story was becoming a lot more plausible.

Not to mention, a hell of a lot more sinister in feeling.

“We can make it work,” his counterpart said, though Bucky heard the bite within his tone. It wasn’t directed at either him or Steve though.

“Good,” Steve answered. “Take out the jets. Michael and Vera have the troop transports. The rest of us will clean up the stragglers. First sign of the quinjet’s engines firing back up, you get your asses in. No last shots.”

“We’ll be there, Steve,” Bucky said, before his counterpart could say a word. He didn’t know or understand what was happening, but he could feel the patronizing quip wanting to be said by his counterpart.

Without further words, Steve stepped away. Bucky and his counterpart hurried to the mound and set their anti-materiel sniper rifles up. Even with less than 2 meters separating them as they laid on the ground, doing last minute calibrations, they were still mirroring each others’ actions.

“So it wasn’t a fluke,” he heard his counterpart murmur. “Fighting in tandem with you against that horde of Thanos.”

“It wasn’t,” he agreed. Then, he heard them – the faint incoming scream of fighter jet engines. “Heads up, incoming.”

“May the best one win.”

A small, feral grin crept up Bucky’s lips at the challenge issued.

The jets first appeared as tiny blips, quickly resolving into larger blobs until tiny trails of smoke issued from them—

Missiles.

Breathe—pause—heartbeat—fire.

Missile one down—reload.

Pause—fire.

Missile two down—reload.

Tracking lead jet—fire.

Reload.

Tracking missiles—heartbeat—fire.

Shrapnel collateral damage from prime to second missile.

Reload.

Targets scattering attack vector formation.

Shift three-point-two-five degrees down—breathe—fire.

Jet number two down—reload.

Pause—heartbeat—fire.

Missile down—reload.

Tracking jet number three—fire.

Scatter damage to four—reload—fire.

Reload.

Shift one-point—no—tracking missile—fire.

Reload—fire.

Five jets down, five cleared by other Winter Soldier , none sighted beyond— breathe.

Reload—pause—ride out the shock wave.

Shift two-five-point-nine left—track troop transport—breathe—pause—fire.

Reload.

Pause—heartbeat—

An explosive wash of pain suddenly struck him. Bucky rocketed back, slamming into the ground with bone-jarring force. Stars sprang into his eyes, as an overwhelming fiery feeling rapidly crawled up his metal arm. At the same time, Bucky saw the thin blue arcs spluttering out of the dart-like object that pierced his metal hand. And those arcs were rapidly climbing and following the fiery sensation up—

~~~

Vibranium was supposed to be the strongest metal known to man. At least that was what Howard had declared in that SSR bunker back in 1943. And that was what he had seen in the field – bullets reflected off Steve’s shield.

Yet, here and now, he saw his counterpart slam into the ground; as if he had been punched by an impossibly heavy force, pinned down like a bug by something that had penetrated the black metal arm he had. Sparks and arcs of electric blue crawled out of the thing, and not a split second later, his counterpart forcibly wrenched and detached himself away from the pinned arm—

“Man down! Man down!” Bucky shouted into the comm, snatching his counterpart by the collar of his uniform.

It was completely surreal to hear his own voice scream in pain before suddenly falling silent, but have it not be him. He pressed his gloved fingers against his counterpart’s neck – barely feeling the pulse. Bucky then yanked his unconscious counterpart away from the arm, and whatever the hell was buried in that palm.

‘Man down’ wasn’t quite the words he wanted to say, but it got his point across. He didn’t linger on the strangeness of the words though.

An acute, burning sensation was crawling up his own metal arm.

Dropping his counterpart, Bucky took a quick glance at his own arm, but none of the blue arcs were crawling up it. His instincts suddenly screamed at him to find cover—

Bucky threw himself over his counterpart, just as an enormous explosion ripped the ground up several feet ahead of him. Super-heated chunks of dirt flew into the air and rained down upon the area.

“Fall back! Bucky, fall back!”

Twice before, he had been utterly relieved to hear Steve’s voice – not over comm, but directly next to him. Even if it was a shouted order at this very moment. Once in Azzano, and the second time, at that infernal masquerading HYDRA facility in Alaska.

He was partially pulled by by Steve, muddy lumps sliding off his armor like a dog shedding water. Turning, Bucky saw Steve pick up and sling his counterpart over his shoulder.

Snatching up the two Steyrs, Bucky slung the rifles over his other shoulder. The few remaining cartridges were picked up – he did not want to give the enemy forces any further ammunition. He hurried after Steve, stopping only for a moment to pick up the detached, inert arm of his counterpart.

The ground underneath them rumbled and rippled with the missile strikes that the remaining enemy infantry unleashed. Bucky raised his arms to cover his head as he pounded after Steve. He could barely see in front of him, as both he and Steve – still carrying his counterpart – dodged and weaved their way towards Natasha’s transport.

The sheet of ice that they had skidded across was now just pocked-marked with holes that led into the cold water. Both he and Steve pounded across what was left of the ice, freezing water splashing up against their muddy boots. They were the last to arrive at the transport.

Steve immediately placed his still-unconscious counterpart in the nearest jump seat, as Bucky slapped the button to close the ramp. The ramp wasn’t even half-way closed when the transport shuddered, and rocketed backwards.

Bucky barely had time to sit himself down, dumping the weapons to the side, as he strapped himself in. He shoved Steve’s hands away from his counterpart, clearly indicating that Steve should also strap him. Whatever their exit vector was, it was clear it was going to be incredibly rough.

Fortunately, Steve quickly backed away, sitting down opposite of both him and his counterpart. Bucky managed to get all five-point harnesses on his counterpart snapped in place before his stomach did a massive flip-flop.

Violent thumps followed the screech of metal-on-metal that reverberated within the transport—

“Comm box above your head, Carter!” he heard the black man – Sam Wilson, poking his head out of the cockpit – faintly shout over the noise.

Wolf Spider reached up and took the device off of its housing. As much as Bucky had wanted to not take the traitor’s suggestion of the ‘only’ route out of Soviet airspace, he knew he had no firm ground to stand upon. He had told Steve and the others that Wolf Spider had said the truth back at SHIELD-Europe headquarters.

Thus far, the Wolf Spider had done nothing but tell the truth, nor betray that trust.

Bucky didn’t get to see or hear what the Wolf Spider was saying, as Alex suddenly appeared before him – or rather, was crouched in front of his counterpart. Despite the rocking twists that Natasha’s flying was inducing, Alex seemed quite calm and steady.

“What happened?” the doctor demanded.

Bucky held up the inert, pierced metal arm. It was still covered in mud, but it looked like a clean – albeit painful – break from his counterpart’s shoulder. He could only imagine – no, he had clearly felt the ghostly burn of the agonizing electrical feedback.

But not wanting to linger on his own strange, not-quite-there sensation of arcing sparks crawling up his own arm, he handed Alex the arm. The doctor shook his head and did not take it, briefly bracing himself against the jump seats against the transport’s maneuvers.

Then, he saw Alex reach forward to try to begin to clear the dirt and debris from the break point and underneath the uniform his counterpart wore. A few small clumps of dirt fell, when Bucky felt yet another strange sensation prickle in the back of his mind—

“Doc, move!” The words left his lips, just as he forced Alex back, pushing him with his right foot. At the same time, he slammed his left arm across his counterpart’s chest – ignoring the sensation of a brick hitting his own chest.

It took all of Bucky’s strength to pin his counterpart against the jump seat – to prevent his counterpart from tearing through the harness. The burning sensation across his shoulder stump that connected into his own metal arm flared. Grey-blue eyes that matched his own snapped open—

—and were utterly blank.

Winter Soldier…

“Bucky! You’re safe!” Steve’s shout drew both of their attention onto him.

For a second more, Bucky heard the harsh whine of his own arm rise in pitch, before his counterpart suddenly blinked and slumped back in his jump seat. His counterpart was still awake, but there was pain etched in his eyes.

Bucky slowly lowered his arm.

Steve fortunately didn’t do the stupid thing and unbuckle himself. Not with just how wild the transport was bucking. But Steve did continue to hold Alex where he was. Eight seconds later, it became a little eerie at just how sudden the juking transport was flinging all of them around, had stopped.

Instead, pure speed – and the rumbling rising whine of engines being pushed faster filled the cargo hold. Bucky noticed that the Wolf Spider wasn’t talking into the comm box anymore.

“Shock wave in ten!” Wilson’s shout into the cargo hold alerted them.

Steve, with Dottie’s help, immediately hauled Alex up and into the open jump seat. Alex barely got his harness secured when the warned shock wave hit. If Natasha’s evasive flying had thrown them around, this slammed into them like a truck out of nowhere.

What dim lights illuminated the cargo hold flickered then died amid the shouts and screams of how violently they were tossed around. Bucky barely heard the clatter of boxes in the loosened netting above them. One of the Steyrs slammed into his right arm – he caught it with his left and pinned it to his lap. His left foot, along with his counterpart’s right had picked up the bag of cartridges—

Fifteen seconds later, everything around them shuddered to a halt. The unpleasant, harsh whine of the engines cooled to a mere buzzing noise.

“Everyone all right?” Natasha shouted.

“Yeah,” Steve answered as soon as Bucky saw that he had made a cursory assessment of those within the hold.

The unconscious woman, Sharon Carter, still looked as she did, but had not moved much from where she was strapped with harnesses. Of the others, they looked shaken, but not further injured than they had been on take off.

“What the hell was that?” Dottie was the first to break the silence.

“Nuclear detonation,” the Wolf Spider quietly spoke up. His tone was hard, as if he were challenging anyone to question the declaration. “Two of them. One on the northern shores of Остров Октябрьской Революции, the other on the southern shores of Остров Комсомолец.”

“Those women and men down there were not given detonation orders, Михаил,” Belova stated, surprising the rest of them. Even more surprising was the challenging look in her eyes.

“Michael,” Peggy began, horrified. “What orders… w-why?”

“Scorched earth.”

Bucky found his eyes riveting directly onto his counterpart who had stated those two words. “The fuck?” he he found himself saying. Anger overrode the irritating feeling of otherness and phantom pain he was feeling from his counterpart.

“Your 0-8-4s were hidden there, weren’t they, Director?” his counterpart stated, sounding ragged and clearly in pain, while pointedly ignoring him. “<Those stand-down orders doubled as a detonation command, didn’t they?>”

The second question was stated in Russian. There was no rhyme or reason for it, but it felt… strangely right to do so. As incensed as Bucky felt about the exchange and the lack of humility or guilt on the Wolf’s Spider’s expression, he noticed that that challenging look in the traitor’s eyes had disappeared; replaced by something strangely unreadable.

“Yes,” the Wolf Spider answered.

“Good,” both his counterpart and Natasha stated at the same time.

The silence that fell in the transport was not only uncomfortable and tension-filled, but also uneasy. Bucky could see that Steve and Wilson were wanting to protest such a thing, but were valiantly not trying to argue their way.

Of what he remembered seeing during the battle against the multiple Thanos, and in Siberia, Wilson was most likely the current ‘Captain America’ of his counterpart’s timeline. The shield and Wilson’s mastery of wielding it, along with the lack of panic while under fire seemed to lend credence to that guess.

It was unfair to the lives lost; Bucky agreed with Steve and Wilson. Yet, he hated the fact that he also found himself agreeing with what the Wolf Spider had done. Hated the fact that despite the strange otherworldly influence that passed between him and his counterpart, his independent thoughts k new that—

“Was there no other way?”

Alex had asked that question, breaking the silence, but not the tension in the hold. Considering what Bucky knew of the doctor and his life in the other reality, he could only imagine that similar choices had to be made. But the lack of humility and remorse from the Wolf Spider upon making that decision still angered him.

“Regimes rise and fall, but revenge is an act which you want to commit when you are powerless and because you are powerless: as soon as the sense of impotence is removed, the desire evaporates too.”

Bucky blinked, glancing down the row of jump seats at his mother, who had stated those words. Obstinately, he recognized those words as literary critic and author, George Orwell’s, but he’d never thought that he’d hear them issue out of his mother’s lips. While SHIELD didn’t monitor Orwell, Bucky’s two years in the field had lent him some privy information that told him various Western allied countries’ monitored Orwell.

The Wolf Spider remained silent, but did acknowledge the words and meaning behind it with a single nod of his head. Bucky couldn’t help but feel he was missing something significant in that exchange, and he was not the only one.

It was Steve who spoke up. “So the questions are: what is Unit 616, and what are they trying to accomplish here?”

“Carter claims that they didn’t want the chaos of the world that HYDRA was shaping – the heavy-handed shaping of lives,” Bucky heard his counterpart quietly state into the silence.

Pain still clutched at his counterpart. Despite his best efforts, that brief wall of blankness that had fallen between them was gone. Bucky could feel the ghostly skittering sensation of pain pulsating at his shoulder and radiating down his back.

“That Unit 616 wanted absolute control – of a world in a perpetual Cold War status,” his counterpart continued after a brief pause to push away the pain. “Fear itself.”

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: Poor Man / Бедный человек

Just outside of London…

“HYDRA.”

Steve looked down for a moment at his hands. He took a deep breath and finally lifted his gaze the meet the others again, more composed. Beside him, Sam shifted ever so slightly, eyes flicking slowly between him and the others listening in.

It was Peggy who had stated that accursed name. Not in an angry manner, but more in disbelief that mirrored almost everyone’s expressions. Only Ivchenko, standing with his legs and hands bound in cuffs from Natasha’s supplies within the quinjet, looked not surprised.

That was all Steve needed to know – to confirm – that Ivchenko had known about Zola’s HYDRA affiliation. B ut there was nothing else he could confirm or draw from his own knowledge of whether or not Ivchenko continued working with Zola after the Winter Soldier had been created in Steve’s original timeline. Little to nothing was known about Ivchenko in SSR archives after 1946.

“HYDRA began to grow within SHIELD after Dr. Zola was recruited into SHIELD under Operation Paperclip...” Steve began.

~~~

“May I tell them?”

Silence answered Steve’s quiet question.

“Then, I won’t—” Steve finally stated after what felt like a few long minutes.

“If you’re telling them, tell them everything, Steve. Have Romanov explain what the Soviets on the other side of the war did as well. I don’t care if you, Peggy, or even my counterpart have issues with Carter, Belova, or Ivchenko – they need to know about HYDRA if this Unit 616 is drawn from them.”

“Bucky—”

“Steve. Those are my conditions.”

Bucky hadn’t meant to eavesdrop in on the private conversation between Steve and his 2020s counterpart, but it was a little difficult to not do so. Not especially since neither Steve nor his counterpart had moved to a more secluded corner of this particular locker room on the airfield.

The conversation between his counterpart and Steve had not lasted much longer after that. Steve had left the locker room, pensive. No one else entered after that.

Both Bucky and his counterpart had been the last to depart the quinjet. It was a strange name for such a nimble aircraft, but Bucky didn’t linger on that thought for long. His counterpart had been the one to hold both of them back, silently nodding to both Steve and Wilson to go ahead of the two of them.

He hadn’t asked why; hadn’t need to. The strangeness of their shared otherness needed to be addressed; Steve was the only one who had voiced it thus far, but the others were becoming concerned. And Bucky couldn’t help but feel annoyed; he was fairly certain that neither himself nor his counterpart wanted to be shipped off to the airfield’s hospital.

Or examined by doctors.

The only way to do figure out what was going between the two of them, was to do so without Steve or others breathing down their necks. Bucky thought that they were going to try to talk it out in the cargo hold of the quinjet, but his counterpart had shook his head even before he had thought about opening his mouth to voice the thought.

Even after they had entered the emptied locker room to clean themselves up, his counterpart had said nothing. Steve and the others were outside now, cleaned from their ordeal, with Steve having obtained permission from his counterpart to tell of what happened with HYDRA, SHIELD, and of the Cold War in that timeline.

Of what happened that could help them try to uncover what was happening here.

Sharon Carter had been rushed off the quinjet by Alex and the medical personnel stationed at the airfield’s hospital. It was clear that even with what Alex had tried to do, it wasn’t enough. The woman was clearly dying. Bucky only hoped that now that they were in England, relatively safe and sound, it would be enough to save her.

His counterpart had told them very little about the mysterious Unit 616, grown apparently as a schism between HYDRA and whatever else had happened during Steve’s original timeline. It seemed that no one else except for Agent Carter knew what Unit 616 was. Even Natasha had clear confusion in her eyes.

At the present, Bucky finished toweling his damp hair as dry as it could get. Wrapping the larger towel around his waist, he stepped out of the stall and made his way to one of the many sinks in the lockers. The shaving kit that the airfield stocked was similar to the ones used in the field.

Bucky carefully scraped away the stubble that had grown in the past few days. Patting his face clean and dry when he was done, he draped the smaller towel over his good shoulder. Turning slightly, he glanced towards his back, towards the jagged scars that enveloped the metal arm grafted to him.

He poked the area with his good hand; hardened lumps of flesh over screws that held bone and metal met the tips of his fingers. There was no sign of burn marks – electrical burn marks – anywhere near where flesh met metal. All he felt and saw were the faded, familiar marks of his past—

“Resonance.”

Bucky fully turned, dropping his hand. His counterpart emerged from another shower stall, towel wrapped around his waist in the exact same manner he had his wrapped around his own waist. The secondary towel was draped over his counterpart’s good shoulder, again much like his own – but Bucky chalked that up to the fact that his counterpart now only had one arm.

The stump – the metal plate left behind with the clean detachment of his black metal arm was unsettling to see. But it was clear to him that his counterpart had had his left arm and shoulder worked upon. There was no way for Bucky himself to break his own silver arm off cleanly.

Said detached arm was sitting on the quinjet, tucked into a secured compartment in the cockpit. He had seen his counterpart do so after everyone else left. It need not be said that that black metal arm of his was more advance in tech than anything else – even if something had pierced it.

“Resonance?” he questioned.

His counterpart tapped the metal plate with his free hand. Bucky felt the tiniest of pressures somewhere within the upper part of his arm in response. While his counterpart had had his left arm worked upon – the plate in which it connected to seemed to be the area where the feedback mechanism and control function laid.

“It’s why I asked Romanov for that toolkit,” his counterpart stated. “It’s what I also suspected happen to us during that battle against Thanos. Why we worked so well together. Synchronicity because our two timelines are derived from a common point. The same memories, life experiences, and behavior up to a certain point – and even then, more so after the divergence.”

“I’m not quite following…” Bucky began, unashamed to admit that he was a little confused.

“Understandable,” his counterpart stated. “Remember Bridget and Jenny?”

“The twins?” he asked, then frowned. “I thought you don’t remember—”

“Sporadic memories. In medias res.”

“Oh,” he said.

“It’s mostly all there.” His counterpart tapped his head. “Just not all of it.” The silence that fell between them lasted only a few seconds. “Remember the look that Jenny was giving Bridget when we were walking along the pier?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said, remembering that rather memorable date with the twins.

Steve was with Jenny, and he with Bridget. While it had not spiraled into a second date with either of the girls, Bucky suspected that somewhere in that date, the two switched partners. He never confirmed his hunch, but he did remember catching the twins giving each other a quick look…

“Twin-sense?” he asked, returning his attention onto his counterpart.

“If you want to call it that, yeah. Resonance is a little stronger than that,” his counterpart explained. “I dialed down the pain receptors in the arm so neither you or I had to live with the feedback feeling bouncing off of ourselves.”

“But that’s not all…” Bucky began.

He glanced down at his metal hand and raised it up slightly, before curling his hand into a tight fist. Then, he opened his hand. He saw the slight grimace – not pain – but the acknowledgment that that sensation was felt.

Resonance, if it was truly that, would explain how he sensed the prickle of danger in the tunnels. How he led the team and found Sharon Carter and the others. How he and his counterpart were able to accurately flank and protect the rear of the group trying to escape across the Siberian wilderness. How they were able to quickly and accurately shoot down not just the incoming aircraft at Таймы́рское о́зеро, but missiles as well.

How he felt the neutrality of his counterpart towards the Wolf Spider and associates; angering him because of the lack of condemnation—

“I don’t remember him.”

Bucky blinked. He realized that he had balled up his hands into fists, enough that his left arm was beginning to harshly whine. His counterpart’s words had broken through the cold rage clouded over his eyes.

“You don’t remember the Wolf Spider?” he spat out in disbelief.

It was one thing to see his counterpart shrug when Wilson had asked who the Wolf Spider was. It was another to hear his counterpart actually admit it.

“You don’t—he betrayed me—us to the Soviets!” Bucky stated, incredulous. “When we fell from the train, he had already told his handlers where we were going. They were waiting—”

Bucky snapped his mouth shut as he tore the towel hanging from his shoulder and turned away. It was useless to spew vitriol at the Wolf Spider to his counterpart. He knew his counterpart’s history – even as common as they both had.

He went to the lockers and pulled the one temporarily assigned to him, open. He heard his counterpart follow, and open his own locker. They both silently got dressed in the clothing that the airfield provided in the temporary lockers.

“There had been love, hadn’t there? An attempt to move on?”

Bucky stiffened for a moment, pausing in looping his belt. He could feel the melancholy from his counterpart; not just through the words. As much as he hated the Wolf Spider, he knew that there were just some things that could not be denied.

“An attempt that failed,” he quietly answered, and resumed buttoning up his shirt.

“Because we’ll always be there with Steve—”

“—until the end of the line,” Bucky solemnly finished up.

He glanced over towards his counterpart at the same time his counterpart did the same. He wasn’t afraid to admit to himself that he had initially been oddly jealous yet disconcerted when Steve told him what he had shared with his counterpart. But then, Steve had shown him the memory through the Reality Stone of the day he, Steve, left 2023 for good.

He had seen his counterpart let Steve go – to live both of their lives on their own terms.

Bucky didn’t know if he was capable of doing that. But upon seeing his counterpart here and now, he knew that he did not need to worry about that ever happening. Decades apart and circumstances had drastically changed the relationship between his counterpart and Steve. There was no going back for either of them.

He didn’t need to ‘compete’ for Steve’s attention. Not when he knew where he, along with Peggy – and even his counterpart here and now, stood in Steve’s heart.

“Thank you,” he said. “And… I’m sorry.”

His counterpart said nothing, except to incline his head ever so slightly. They were wearing the same clothing; their actions thus far were eerily guessed a split second before it happened. It seemed that even with one arm to use, his counterpart was adept in dressing himself quickly. It was his counterpart who broke eye contact first, reaching further into his locker to draw out two tiny objects.

It looked like a tiny arm, and a circular disc with a strange-colored center. He watched his counterpart place the tiny arm on the bench, and step back. He too, took a step back, before his counterpart threw the small disc directly at the arm.

That arm suddenly grew in size – stopping until it looked like a regular arm. Except that it was completely black in color, and a hollow-like lattice that evoked something of a skeleton.

“You always carry spares around?” Bucky couldn’t help but ask.

His counterpart shook his head. “This is a prototype that I designed and forged,” he said, picking up the arm. “It was enough that those who sheltered me also gave me my freedom. I didn’t want to trouble them any further.”

Bucky heard the finality in his counterpart’s tone. Instead, he asked, “I wasn’t aware that there were anything capable of piercing vibranium. Assuming your other arm was made of vibranium?”

“It was,” his counterpart answered, before falling silent.

He saw him thin his lips, clenching his jaw. The sensation of that, and the ghostly brush of brief anger swirled through him. It need not be elaborated that whenever in time past 2023 that his counterpart had come from, he had acquired new enemies – specific ones that were previously unknown in affiliation, but now most likely allied with Unit 616.

If this Unit 616 decided to crash into this timeline, it was safe to assume that Sharon had told his counterpart the truth – that Unit 616 did not come being until HYDRA was re-established. With no HYDRA here, and a supposedly less chaotic, more sinister-like Cold War in this timeline Unit 616 struck at the most opportune time.

“I still need to study the mechanism,” his counterpart suddenly stated. “If that attack specifically struck my arm, more should have followed – striking you, Steve, and even Peggy. All of your armors are vibranium.”

“So you’re saying that we shouldn’t wear them into battle? Does it matter if they were created by Tony Stark?” he asked.

Bucky was a little worried; the armors were the strongest protection the three of them had. If they were to charge into battle against 2020s forces, 1950s armor – even at SHIELD’s finest – would not be able to withstand much. It also meant that Steve would not be able to wear any of his armors within the former time-jump bangle.

“I don’t know.”

“I’ll talk to Peggy and see if she’ll allow you to use the Engineering labs and their researchers,” he stated after a moment.

His counterpart nodded. “Adamantium,” his counterpart stated after a few moments, before marrying the arm to the metal plate with a simple click. The metal arm hung limply by his side. “Stronger than vibranium.”

“Stronger than vibranium?” Bucky questioned.

But there was a look in his counterpart’s eyes that told him that was all the answers he would be getting about the new arm. Understandable, considering the current circumstances and the fact that the arm was clearly something from the future. Instead, he focused on the plate and arm interface.

“Can’t be that simple of an inter—” he began.

“It isn’t,” his counterpart stated, reaching back into the locker for the tiny toolkit that Natasha had given him. “Brace yourself.”

Bucky only had about five seconds to do so, when an electrifying pain shot across his own metal arm, into his shoulder, and across his back. It cascaded down his spine, down his legs—

As sudden as the agonizing wash of pain came, it suddenly stopped. Nerves tingling, Bucky worked his jaw around, realizing that he had opened his mouth to scream, but that no sound had issued out. He could feel his limbs begin to loosen, muscles remembering how to keep him upright, as he drew his eyes up to the his counterpart.

“Holy shit,” he stated, breathing quite harshly.

“Resonance,” was all his counterpart answered. His counterpart raised his skeletal hand up and curled the bony metal fingers ever so slightly. Bucky couldn’t even hear the whir of mechanisms or the joints.

“Calibration?”

“It’ll take some time.”

“Fucking hate this resonance thing,” Bucky grumbled. He still felt the aftereffects of the reactivation of the electronic connections made to the arm – through his own metal arm, no less.

“Agreed.”

~~~

Peggy thought that most of Steve’s reluctance to talk about his time in SHIELD was due to the secrecy surrounding SHIELD’s operations. It was understandable, and she had never pushed her husband to speak of it. She had seen in Steve’s eyes, the want for SHIELD here and now to grow on their own – not influenced by his own memories of the organization in his original timeline.

The truth was so much worse.

Peggy listened, aghast, to Steve describing what happened in the few years he served with SHIELD, through its downfall. How HYDRA slowly gained control through Zola’s machinations, influencing the world and shaping it to the vision they wanted to control.

Where Steve faltered, Sam Wilson and Natasha picked up until it looked like Steve had summoned more courage to continue. It need not be said that the two had been by Steve’s side through the fall of SHIELD. That the two helped Steve survive through shock and despair.

Bucky was right; Steve had gone back in time not just to selfishly carve some happiness for himself, but to also stop HYDRA from re-establishing a foothold in the world. But when Steve began to tell them about the circumstances that led to the breaking of the Avengers in 2016, she noticed that both Vera Romanova and Michael’s demeanor changed ever so slightly.

Peggy could not imagine what was going through Bucky’s mother’s thoughts. The stoic expression on her face as she listened gave absolutely nothing away. For Vera to hear of how her son had been manipulated, controlled, and forced to kill… As much of a poker face that Peggy thought she herself was able to muster, she could not hide her own shock about what was being told to them.

Whatever Vera felt about what was being told, the elegantly beautiful woman hid it incredibly well.

Michael… Michael’s expression remained generally neutral, but for the first time since December 31 ^st , 1948, Peggy thought she caught a glimmer of regret. Not on the surface, but in the depths of his eyes. Yet, as quickly as she thought she saw it, it disappeared in a blink.

Perhaps she had been too quick to anger – to dismiss the stranger that had been her brother. But the vitriolic words that both of them had exchanged in that interrogation room still hung like a heavy weight around her neck. She knew apologies would never allow them to take back the words.

At present, Steve begun to describe what Bucky had told him and Sam about the elite Soviet strike team. Peggy knew only a little of the strike team in this timeline’s iteration – code-named Winter Guard.

In the past, Steve had not told her much about the team, only the names identified through the postmortem photographs that he had seen four years ago. And that her brother had led the team. But the Winter Guard was no more in this timeline – at least Peggy hoped that was the truth.

Yet, to hear that the Winter Soldier of the other timeline had killed Howard and Howard’s wife from that timeline – Maria – just to steal the recreated super-soldier formula sent chills down her spine. That the Soviets, even if HYDRA was controlling them from the shadows, had completely erased Bucky’s memories and forced him to be come a living weapon.

A fate worse than death.

And though it was never stated, Peggy suspected that Michael in Steve’s original timeline had experienced something similar. It was the only way she could attempt to comprehend the enormous casualties that had stemmed from what the Soviets had done to ‘upgrade’ the Winter Guard.

The serum had driven her brother, and others of the Winter Guard mad.

The only reaction she saw from Michael, here and now, even shackled, was a barely-concealed flinch. Even as heartless as his words had stung her, even as angry as she was towards him, what happened in the other timeline was something she would never wish upon him. Puppeted and used by HYDRA in the shadows, Peggy was glad that Zemo had given the Winter Guard in Steve’s original timeline a merciful death.

And now, knowing what happened, Peggy recalled Natasha’s words about the two Steyrs. Saw the actions of Bucky from the 2020s in the battle and escape, in a whole new light. Saw the actions of Bucky here and now in that same light – the actions of the Winter Soldier to protect Humanity.

Atonement, and a promise to do – to be better.

At the same time, another chill seemed to grip her. It was due to the sheer horror of the knowledge that the Soviets in that other timeline had been willing to deploy not only the Black Widow, but also the Winter Soldier, and upgraded Winter Guard to Washington DC.

A joint mission to do… what?

She mentally shook her head. Selfish or not, Steve’s return to 1946 had changed the world. And now… now, someone was trying to break the ideological stalemate. Unit 616, wanting to control the world in perpetual fear, rather than the forced peace through absolute control that HYDRA had been aiming for.

But when had Unit 616 been formed?

Peggy refused to believe that her niece of another timeline was traitor to the world. She remembered Bucky distinctly stating that every word that her brother had stated in the interrogation room was the truth. But, Sharon was the only one who knew of Unit 616.

If she died…

“Captain Rogers,” Ivchenko spoke up in the silence that had fallen since Steve finished briefing them on what HYDRA had wrought. “Did Sharon not go into exile with the three of you?”

Steve shook his head. “No,” he answered. “She remained under Agent Ross’ command. I ran into her only once before 2018, at the Carter family grave site.”

“No portal?”

Natasha had been the one to ask that question. There had been no doubts in Peggy’s mind when she first met Natasha that the relationship between the woman and Steve was familial, sister-like. Even when Steve briefly summarized what he had been doing between the breaking of the Avengers and the arrival of Thanos, she was glad Natasha had stuck by Steve’s side.

Sam as well. It was clear to her that despite the gulf of at two generations between Sam and Steve, Sam filled the space where Bucky had been. Not the complex kind of relationship shared between Bucky and Steve – but the brotherly space that had been torn away ever since Bucky had fallen in the Alps.

Steve silently shook his head, bringing Peggy out of her brief musing.

“Nothing odd that cropped up from 2018 to 2023 either,” Natasha murmured. “Sharon was dusted, so it may be safe to assume that the majority of Unit 616 were as well. Otherwise, those five years would have been extremely ripe for them to sow chaos and fear.”

“If that was Unit 616’s modus operandi, it would have been more advantageous for them to seize control the moment they were snapped back into existence,” Michael spoke up.

“Take control while the Avengers and their allies were occupied with the second battle and its aftermath against Thanos,” her brother continued. “By all accounts, it sounds like the countries that were superpowers in your reality used to be the United States, China, and whatever the hell became of the Soviet Union after its fall.

“But they appeared to be weakened after all those years of politicking – and the collapse of HYDRA. Another country rose up to take their place, and by all means, seemed to remain strong even after Thanos’ snap. Whomever they were, even if Unit 616 was snapped out of existence for those five years, they held the line and forced them to enter this reality.

“Even now, I can only imagine that this country had just enough firepower to break Unit 616’s lines and send you through, Agent Romanov. But to return Sharon, and yourselves back to your timeline, it sounds to me that we need their help. And they exist here and now – possibly just as strong. What is the country?”

It was barely perceptible, but Peggy did not miss the narrowing of Natasha’s eyes, nor the slight curling of Steve’s hands into fists. Dottie wore an openly curious expression, while Vera still held the stoic upon her face. Yelena Belova, the Soviet’s Black Widow, had flicked her mildly interested gaze back and forth between Steve and Michael. It was only Sam’s overt blink of surprise that gave away that he was not used to how astute Michael was.

Before any of them could answer, the noise of a jeep pulling into the hangar interrupted them. Peggy did not expect SHIELD-Europe to be prepared to receive them that quickly. It had only been about an hour since they had arrived, less than that since Peggy had phoned the alert to headquarters.

“Division Chief Carter?”

Peggy immediately stepped away, quickly approaching the young soldier on messenger duty. The young man handed her a folded piece of paper that looked to have been hastily ripped away from a note pad.

“From Dr. Carter, ma’am,” the soldier stated.

She unfolded the paper, noting that the soldier did not return to the jeep, and remained, expecting an answer. Alex had written messily in code, but it was code that she could not decipher—

“Wait, please,” she said.

Without even acknowledging the young soldier’s nod, Peggy returned to the group and handed the note to Steve. There was a chance that in Alex’s haste, his coded words may have been written in a code used in the reality he had grown up in.

Steve took the paper, opened it and read it. Immediately a frown appeared, before he looked up, asking, “Nat, is it common for SHIELD agents to be embedded with trackers?”

“Trackers, no,” Natasha answered, before pausing for a second. “Last Will and Testament, possibly. Sharon was SHIELD Special Service, and all agents under that division were expected to keep their Wills up-to-date on a weekly basis. It would have made it easier to manage if the Will was embedded in a chip… what does the note say about the tracker? What is it?”

“Capsule.” Steve briefly glanced down at the paper.

“Then it’s most likely a Will,” Natasha began, but frowned.

“Is there enough room to store more than just a Will?” Sam asked.

“I didn’t work with the bodyguard division often,” Natasha answered. “But it is possible—”

“We’ll go.”

Peggy turned around, eyes widening with slight surprise, even though she chided herself that she should have expected something similar to this. Standing in the shadows of the foremost landing gear of the quinjet was Bucky – both of them.

It was clear that they had been listening in, but for how long was anyone’s guess. Both had the same eerily neutral expressions, were dressed the same, and even had their arms crossed over their chests in the same manner. Even their eyes, twin orbs of grey-blue, held a blankness that did not tell any of them of how they felt about what had been discussed. The only stark difference that she could see were their uncovered left hands.

Silver for Bucky – her timeline’s Bucky – hand; a skeletal black hand for the other.

Before others could ask where the new arm had come from, Bucky – skeletal hand – asked, “Dr. Carter isn’t from around here, is he?”

Peggy caught Steve’s eyes. It had been an unstated agreement between the two, no, all of them that Alex’s circumstances of returning did not need to be known or told to any of Department X’s personnel – including Michael. But, it was now called out into the open.

“No, he’s not.” It was unproven, but there was the small possibility that the 0-8-4 portal that Alex had fallen and returned through could be linked to the larger Siberian portal.

“He fell through a 0-8-4 portal in a playground into another reality, ten months ago. He returned about four months ago, aged to thirty-eight,” she continued. “No other sign of that 0-8-4 has been sighted since those two times.”

“He was a former member of Strike Bravo,” Steve said. He went over to the two, and handed Bucky – skeletal hand – the piece of paper.

What significance Steve’s statement held was unknown. But, Peggy remembered Steve saying that the original timeline’s Bucky and himself had traveled to the same reality that Alex had been transported to. It stood to say that the other reality Bucky knew something of Alex—

“Peggy, permission to bring Agent Underwood with us?”

It had not been Steve, nor Bucky with the skeletal hand, who had asked that. Rather, Bucky – their Bucky of this timeline had been the one to ask that, a few seconds after Steve handed the note over. It took a split second after that for Peggy to realize the implied meaning behind the words.

Somehow, whatever was causing the behavior of both James Barnes to mirror each other, also involved passing information to each other without the need to speak. As unusual as it was, she trusted Bucky’s instincts – and found that she extended that trust to the one who had been the deadliest Soviet asset code-named Winter Soldier.

Alex’s hidden meaning in the note indicated that there was a strong possibility of Unit 616 operatives already embedded within this base itself. However Alex had been ‘trained’ by another reality’s Strike Bravo, was enough for her younger brother to be able to vet the young officer who delivered the note.

But only one.

Any others in the base hospital could not be done – not when Alex was trying to save Sharon’s life. He needed backup, and a way to make sure that if and when Sharon was stabilized, she could recover in the hospital without the threat of being killed or worse, captured again.

“Granted, Agent. Report when you have news,” she ordered.

* * *

Later…

It was a painstakingly slow game of cat and mouse to reach Dr. Carter.

But, Bucky knew patience like a meditating monk; having practiced it for most of his life – even when controlled by HYDRA. It had been one of the very few things that they had not taken from him.

He flicked his eyes to his left as he passed the buxom-looking nurse standing just outside the operating theatre, seemingly perusing the various folders of notes left. To any others, it looked as if she was familiarizing herself with a patient that was about to come out of surgery.

Underwood gave no indication that she caught his ‘all-clear’ signal, except to place the folders down. Bucky continued on, and just as he reached the entrance to the stairwell, he heard the operating theatre’s door open.

Pausing for just a second, he caught a glimpse of the gurney being wheeled out, with at least two nurses surrounding it. The surgeon followed, and stopped next to Underwood. Were it not for his enhanced vision, he wouldn’t have seen the surgeon’s eyes widen ever so slightly in surprise – nor the quick recovery, before the surgeon slipped something into Underwood’s hand.

Bucky frowned ever so slightly. Though Dr. Carter was covered from head-to-toe in surgical scrubs, he didn’t recognize the doctor even by eyesight. He had had barely any time to process or acknowledge Dr. Carter while escaping; even less so while wrapped in the haze of pain of his torn arm’s feedback.

He left; there was no excuse for someone dressed as an emergency medical personnel to linger on this floor. Yet, as he made his way down the stairs and out the back, he couldn’t shake the slight feeling of unease.

While the coded message that Dr. Carter had written looked exactly like a message Bucky had seen before in that other reality, he had no memories of seeing the doctor. It could be said that his memories were fuzzy during the time he, along with Steve were on the run, but Bucky knew it was not so.

Those days, weeks, and months were treasured memories of his. From heart wrenching words, formerly unspeakable feelings, and deeply held confessions; he did not forget easily.

Where he realized just how twisted and completely broken his and Steve’s friendship, brotherhood, and more – had become.

Where he eventually realized that in order for either of them to move on, he and Steve had to completely let go of the past – their past.

Where, even during the waning eve of battle in the plains of Wakanda, Bucky knew that it was to be their last time together. The first and last of their promises fulfilled – that this was the end of the line for both of them.

And in those months and years leading up to that; recovering in that other reality as best as he could, Bucky did not recall a Dr. Carter there.

Two doctors for that reality’s SHIELD existed – one of them being Dr. Lincoln Campbell, but the other – never seen, heard of, or discussed except in passing. And always, with an air of sadness; as if the other doctor was a colleague who had possibly left long ago.

This Dr. Alexander Carter did not seem to be too far removed from the time period he and Steve had accidentally dropped into that other reality.

“Your worry is making me worried.”

Bucky pulled off his uniform that had been stolen from the back of an unattended ambulance by the three of them. He didn’t even bother glancing over towards his counterpart as he shoved the uniform into the burn bag.

The alleyway for the rendezvous was still clear for the moment. “Doc Carter,” he began.

The unsaid: you should know him better than I do , passed between them.

“He told me that he got out of Bravo before some mission in his reality’s Budapest,” his counterpart stated. “Has the training from his SAS days, went the doctor route, and took an oath to save lives. Said our mutual counterpart would never allow him to take lives, even in the field.”

Bucky frowned a little more. His initial hunch about Dr. Carter not being too far removed from the other reality was correct. Coupled with what else he knew of that reality, the timeline for the doctor’s appearance, growth, and leaving for that other reality did not make sense.

Circumstantially, he read the cargo hold’s occupants in relation to how everyone interacted with each other. Of everyone, it seemed only Steve and Peggy had a closeness, conveyed through their body language, to the doctor. Everyone else seemed to treat Dr. Carter as a member of the team, except for his counterpart.

His counterpart’s treatment of Dr. Carter reminded Bucky of the brief words exchanged—

“Unsolicited confession?”

“Wolf Spider unexpectedly showed up a few days ago. Doc reacted as a trained and experienced soldier would have done.” The words were chosen carefully by his counterpart.

“But it wasn’t just that,” Bucky countered. “He didn’t just act like his older brother.”

“No,” his counterpart answered, reluctantly. “His affection for our mutual counterpart is unrequited.”

Bucky remained silent.

That didn’t answer his own confusion on the passage of time in that other reality. But, at the heart of everything, he knew the mutual history he and his counterpart had, revolved solely around Steve. That even without a lot of his memories in the latter half of the war and interregnum before his first deployment as the Winter Soldier, they would still put Steve first and foremost out of everything else.

Everything else was secondary, and Bucky knew that that was why—

He mentally shook his head. This timeline was supposed to be a new start; for Steve, for himself, for Peggy, for everyone else. He was imposing his own experiences on his counterpart’s own, and his counterpart was doing the same.

“I don’t recall seeing or hearing about Dr. Carter in that other reality,” he stated, pointedly ignoring the comment.

It was his counterpart’s turn to frown. “But he said to us that he clearly remembered you and Steve—”

The lightly and deliberately audible footsteps of SHIELD’s Black Widow interrupted their conversation. A few seconds after she entered the alleyway, she appeared around the corner.

Bucky had to keep himself still at Dottie Underwood’s appearance. He managed to control his visceral reaction during the mission, but it was now, the end. Adrenaline and the need to be wired frosty and tight was slowly ebbing.

His visceral reaction to her was not because of her striking beauty. Nor the strange not-quite-flirting look she gave both of them on their way to the hospital. Or the ghostly feeling of amusement rolling off of his counterpart to that look, flowing through the shared resonance.

It was because Bucky remembered how she died in his timeline – 1947, his first target as the Winter Soldier.

How he had easily crushed her wrist, seizing her as she fled through the streets of New York – and attempted to escape in London. The sheer terror in her eyes, as she stared at the metal arm he had worn. Her realization that he had only crushed enough of her windpipe to make it extremely difficult for her to breathe – but remain alive during transport, just so.

The resignation when she was thrown to the floor of the Siberian silo he had brought her back to, dirty, injured, and unable to beg for mercy. That her beauty and seduction skills had utterly failed her. That Zola had created a perfect soldier, when the Winter Soldier had mercilessly shot her several times to make doubly sure she was quite dead.

Bucky remembered the sharp scent that lingered from firing the gun. He remembered the trickle of crimson blood, seeping from her and slowly dripping down the drain—

“Mission accomplished,” Underwood suddenly stated.

Bucky snapped back to himself, but he did not miss the furrowing of Underwood’s eyebrows. Neither did he miss the sudden wince and rapid blinking from his counterpart. Worse yet, Underwood’s eyes held some concern and were flickering back and forth between the two of them.

“… Barnes?” she asked, cautiously.

“It’s nothing.” Even before the words fully left his counterpart lips, snapped in a short tone, his counterpart looked slightly surprised at himself.

“We’re fine,” Bucky stated in calmer tone. He avoided his counterpart’s eyes on him.

~~~

“Chief Carter?”

Peggy glanced up. The notes she had quickly taken during the short conference call with Daniel and the other division chiefs remained untouched at the moment. She knew the paper would be soon filled with other notes and brief analyses of her own making.

The office she had been given to conduct her teleconference had been swept as best as possible. Yet, there was no guarantee that other agencies’ bugs had not been planted. She didn’t have SHIELD’s creation of bug detectors with her, and neither did Natasha carry any items of the sort in her quinjet.

“Mr. Wilson,” she greeted, fondly. “What can I do for you?”

The man looked a little embarrassed. “Sam, please.”

“Then please call me Peggy,” she answered, gesturing for Sam to take a seat.

Sam did so. “And it’s nothing. I just wanted to make sure you’re all right, after what happened and all that. Not all scars can be seen.”

Sam’s question was open-ended enough that Peggy understood he was giving her a chance to talk it out; not in the context of what had happened in Siberia – everyone, including her brother were still reeling from that. But in the context of what had happened in the other timeline before Steve went back in time.

“I am,” she answered truthfully. “You and Agent Romanov were there to help my husband through it all. You were there with and for him when the world turned against him, against his ideals, and against his conscience. There’s nothing more that could have been done under any circumstance.”

Sam looked a little surprised. Then, he smiled. “I can see why Steve fell in love with you.”

It was Peggy’s turn to feel slightly embarrassed, even though she knew little to nothing abut Sam. Steve had not spoken much about his old life, even after everything. Yet, just seeing the way Sam reacted towards Steve during the discussion about HYDRA, told her everything that she needed to know about the man.

“He didn’t say much about his life in our reality, did he?”

“No.” Peggy shook her head. “What he showed us with the reality stone were mostly the events But that doesn’t mean he didn’t treasure the years spent there.”

“You can take a man out of time, but you can’t take time out of man,” Sam said, wistfully.

“Quite true,” she agreed.

The amicable silence that fell between the two of them for a few seconds was broken, as Sam asked, “Are you all right with the Winter Soldier?”

Peggy wanted to say that she was, but it was not entirely true. Her first introduction to the Winter Soldier had been through Steve needing Bucky to help him in returning the Time and Mind Stones.

When Bucky had stepped through the doors, dressed in the menacing all-black outfit, silver arm gleaming harshly against the light, it had sent a chill through her. It was fear unlike anything she had ever felt before.

During the war, Peggy remembered guiding Bucky through the world of espionage. Of telling him that sometimes, the lesser of two evils had to be chosen to ensure a more favorable outcome. Bucky had embraced it wholeheartedly, taking to his role as a shadow to Steve’s stars and stripes like a duck to water.

He was a natural; one of the rare ones that for all Peggy knew and experienced in the same world herself, seemed completely at ease.

She had encouraged him in his pursuit of a relationship with Michael, knowing that some stability was needed in his life – the same kind of stability she had found in Steve. She had mourned him when he fell in the Alps; eyes opening to just how much of an influence he had on her. And she had rejoiced when not just Steve, but Bucky and her own brother had all returned from the dead.

Only to be betrayed by Michael.

It was incredibly convoluted, and Peggy still could not fully wrap her thoughts around on how it had happened. But now, understanding how and what Bucky – even her own brother – had gone through in Steve’s reality, the ghosts of HYDRA still lingered. Steve may have had struck them down when he went back in time, but their poison had already run its course.

To be fearful of Bucky as the Winter Soldier back then had not prepared her to hear the story of how Bucky became the Winter Soldier in Steve’s timeline. Nor had it prepared her to hear the underlying stories of the numerous women who held the Black Widow designation, and of the Winter Guard.

Stripping memories, embedding commands, and the absolute control the Soviets under HYDRA’s influence had held over these people were more than war crimes. They were an abomination against Humanity itself. As much as it angered Peggy, she knew that that anger could not be placed on Steve – for not going further back in time to prevent what happened to her brother.

She was certain that Michael had been subjected to something similar. Yet, the hostility he still displayed towards her and towards Steve remained after Steve had told them about HYDRA in the other reality. Peggy couldn’t read Michael at all anymore; and could only guess that his interest still remained strictly with the terms he had laid down.

But to fear the current Winter Soldier now, was to also fear the Wolf Spider, and the Soviet’s lone remaining Black Widow. Peggy could not bring herself to do so; even if it was a naive thought.

She didn’t pity them either; only hoped that perhaps this truce between SHIELD and this Soviet faction would become the foundation of eventual peace between several nations in the world.

“Peggy?”

Peggy blinked. “I apologize, Sam—”

Footsteps approached, and a moment later, there was a knock on her door. Sam reached back and opened it, revealing Steve. “Hey, they’re back,” Steve stated.

“Sharon and Doc Carter?” Sam asked before Peggy could.

“Out of surgery for now,” Steve said as Peggy followed her husband out to the borrowed hangar. “Alex is staying there for now.”

Dottie was standing at a table that had been set up near the quinjet. Bucky – their timeline one with the silver arm – was standing near her. Of Bucky with the skeletal-looking hand, he was no where to be seen. Natasha as well, though the quinjet’s ramp was open. Vera remained with a couple of SHIELD personnel who had arrived in the interim, guarding Michael, Yelena Belova, and Dr. Ivchenko.

Headquarters had not yet finished preparations for their not-quite-prisoners, and thus, Peggy and the others remained here at the airfield. There still was a truce, but ideological conflicts had to be put aside. She hoped that with the limited access that she was about to provide to Michael and the others, perhaps it would help sow peace between them after this current crisis.

Peggy was under no illusion that reconciliation between the two of them was all but impossible.

~~~

“Barnes.”

Bucky looked up. Romanov was holding a holographic projection device, most likely salvaged or brought from Stark Industries.

By rights, anyone from the 1950s shouldn’t even be exposed to such technology, except for Steve. The Wakandan metal arm sat on his lap; the weapon that had pierced the palm inert, but stuck within.

Underwood had not said anything on the ride back to the hangar, but it was clear that something in both his and his counterpart’s expressions in that alleyway had shaken her. Bucky suspected that the shared resonance between him and his counterpart was the likely culprit.

Whatever had happened, it was clear to him that he needed to control his own memories. That perhaps his counterpart had caught a glimpse of those memories of how he had killed Underwood in his timeline.

To do that, Bucky sought something to occupy his mind – which led him back to his Wakandan-made arm. It was broken and Bucky had no intention to fix the arm – not if he suspected what exactly had pierced into it. Romanov had very little in the quinjet that would allow him to confirm it, but focusing his efforts on the arm seemed to do the trick.

Of course, it didn’t stop the hurricane of anger coming from his counterpart, even with the proximity between his counterpart and the Wolf Spider. Bucky felt that clearly, but he did not let it drown him. He kept his own thoughts, opinions, and memories about the Wolf Spider tucked away.

The betrayal of the Wolf Spider, of Michael Carter, during the war should have hurt, but Bucky could not bring himself to feel that kind of hurt. Instead, all he felt whenever he laid eyes on the man who had betrayed him – and his counterpart – to the Soviets was sorrow.

Of not just their own lives ruined and lost, but of countless of others drawn into the proxy war HYDRA waged. Using the Wolf Spider, using himself, and even the twenty-three Black Widows he had killed.

There had been far too much death in Bucky’s life. Enough to last several life times; enough that he was tired of seeing it repeat over and over again. Enough that he was willing to listen to those in this timeline who had betrayed him, kept him captive in his timeline – just to stop the cycle.

But his counterpart did not need to know that. In his shoes, it would only set to drive the truce further apart until it crumbled. Unit 616, whatever or whomever they were, needed a united front from SHIELD, from Department X, and whomever else they could find, to be defeated.

“Just thinking how difficult it was for Steve to wrangle the Avengers,” he answered, tucking his thoughts away.

“You’re doing well.” Bucky heard Romanov’s careful tone, not just directed at the metal arm in his lap, but with what had been discussed earlier.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, he got up and shrunk the arm with one of the discs that Scott Lang had given to him as a thanks for bailing him out of trouble. Tucking the tiny arm into a compartment looped around his borrowed clothing’s waist belt, Bucky made his way out of the cockpit.

At the edge of the ramp, he paused and turned slightly. She was still standing at the threshold between the cockpit and cargo hold. “Have you had any foreign memories or dreams from your counterpart here, Romanov? Or is she still frozen?”

“She’s not frozen,” she answered. A brief moment of hesitation crossed her expression, unusual in that he’d never seen Romanov wear that kind of expression when talking to him. “Something to do with your counterpart here?”

“Potentially an isolated incident,” he answered. The answer was vague, but Bucky wasn’t certain that his ‘resonance theory’ that explained the otherworldly sensations passed between himself and his counterpart was completely true.

“Understood,” Romanov acknowledged.

There was nothing else for either of them to exchange with each other. She was not Steve and was not going to smother concern over him. Neither was he going to explain anything to her that he still had doubts about. Unless it was directly related to their current problem – Unit 616 – neither of them wanted to entangle their lives with each other.

Both of their ledgers were much too red with the blood of hundreds to help each other scrub them clean.

~~~

There was no way around it; the quinjet was barely large enough to fit several grown adults around the formerly stored projection table. But rather than risk it all by showing Sharon’s capsule in the within the open-air hangar, they made it work.

The ramp had been left open, not just for airflow, but to allow Bucky – both of them – to hear the briefing. The first was to allow for the rest of them who had just found out about the history of the Soviet programs to remain apart.

The second, and what Steve suspected was more for the primary reason for both of them to volunteer to remain outside was mainly for Bucky – silver-armed. Except that 2020s Bucky had volunteered both himself and his counterpart for ‘guard duty’, before anyone else could do so.

Being in a cargo hold with a hated person with no where to go to escape into friendly territory was one thing. Being in the same cramped space with Michael while listening to a briefing… Steve knew Bucky would not tolerate it.

Steve hadn’t found time since they landed to talk to Bucky – either of them. Either both were being evasive after showing no signs of severe injuries, or other tasks, such as analyzing what exactly Natasha’s external cameras on her quinjet had picked up, had taken Steve’s time. He suspected that it was the latter, rather than the former.

Still, Steve promised himself that he would make time. To talk to both of them. To make sure they were both all right. To try to ease his own worries as to why the two were behaving so uncannily alike, when he knew that there had been clear differences in their behavior and personalities.

One that he had loved, lost, found, and ultimately separated by death; the other loved, lost, found, and refused to let death have its way.

Movement from Natasha in his peripheral vision brought Steve out of his musings. Only the shadows cast by the hangar’s lights showed that Bucky – both of them – were standing just beyond either side of the ramp.

He returned his eyes onto the table, as he felt Peggy slip her hand into his own and gently squeeze it in reassurance. He gently returned the squeeze, silently conveying that he was all right.

The cargo hold’s lights dimmed, allowing for the holographic projection to give off an eerie blue glow. Even with the solemnity of the situation, the vibrancy and determination that Steve saw of Sharon in the holographic video was still captured. If he had to guess, he had to think that this iteration of the Last Will and Testament that Sharon had made was before Thanos attacked in 2018.

“This is the Last Will and Testament of Sharon Helen Carter,” Sharon stated in the video. “Born July 4^th, 1982. I request that I am not resuscitated. I request to be buried next to my father, Alexander Carter, and aunt, Margaret Carter, in London. As of this iteration of my Will on April 2^nd, 2018, I do not have any children, adopted or otherwise. Nor a spouse. Any monetary assets that I leave behind, I request to be donated to the foundation set up in the name of Margaret Carter, to be used in Alzheimer’s research. Any physical assets may be discarded and burned—”

There was a scratching noise, before the video fizzled out. A second later, it resolved itself again. Sharon looked slightly harried, face and clothing covered in smudges of dirt, and sported a different haircut.

“Fuck, I hope you’re watching this Sam,” she began. “Had to erase almost all of the Will to get enough space of put the data into this capsule. Don’t worry about my dead body, don’t need it anymore. Just get the bastards who killed me, for me, and we’ll call it even, Wilson.”

She paused and took a deep breath, seemingly realizing just how dark of a humor she sunk to. “I really hope you’re watching this Sam. I need you to find Agent Romanov, and if he is still alive, Sergeant Barnes. They’re the only people I know who may be able to help you complete my mission. Ross knows a little about my mission, but he’s the one holding the government wolves at bay. Plausible deniability and all that bullshit.”

The video shook as she took the camera and set it down somewhere else. “Nothing has been digitized, except what’s going to be recorded here,” she stated, off screen. “First, this is what you need to know about me: my mother was about to defect to the United States. She approached SHIELD via Senior Agent Daniel Sousa, who arranged a meeting between her and my aunt, then-Director Carter. Soviet Red Room agent, Natasha Alianovna Romanova killed my mother in Washington DC on November 21 ^st , 1984.

“Five years later, an American operative killed my father, because they saw him conversing multiple times with another Red Room agent aliased as Michael Walker. My father wanted to defect to the Soviet Union. SHIELD… or rather, HYDRA, were forced to cover up the assassination.”

Sharon paused, took another deep breath, before continuing. “I can guess that you’re wondering about the ‘forced’ part, and why my father didn’t defect in 1984. I’ll get to the latter part later, but the former stems from the fact that the organization that carried out my father’s assassination tried to pin it on the Winter Soldier – and failed. It was an attempt to force HYDRA to give the order to assassinate Aunt Peggy.

“This organization – Unit 616 – I don’t think they wanted the slowly controlled chaos of the world that HYDRA was shaping. They knew that the Soviet Union was going to fall in a matter of years. Their failure landed them on HYDRA’s radar. They went to ground. But, since the fall of SHIELD, there’s been some activities that don’t match up. I think they’re still active.”

There was a pause before in a more tired voice, Sharon said, “Sam… I think Unit 616 wants absolute control, of a world in perpetual fear. With everything that’s happened… well. I know I should be looking at HYDRA’s reports with a grain of salt, but there’s one author of those reports that doesn’t make sense. I can’t read between the lines whenever I’m looking at the cover-ups he wrote, but something feels off about the reports.”

There was a pause before typed pages were held up to the camera – one-by-one. It looked as if the intent was to allow for the viewer to pause and read over the reports, but no one stopped the recording. It didn’t last for more than a few minutes before Sharon put the final piece of paper down and shifted the camera so it was focused on her again.

“The name Unit 616 came from a log book that was seized when we raided Karpov’s home in Cleveland,” Sharon explained. “Footnote, but with a ciphered warning accompanying it. That warning was repeated in a planning operation log book for some operation in DC that was supposed to involve the Black Widow, Winter Soldier, and Winter Guard. Fortunately, the Soviet Union fell before that operation could be carried out.

“Tracing back to what could be found on the operations that the Widows, Winter Soldier, and Winter Guard carried out, I matched a few to some of the cover reports that landed on Aunt Peggy’s desk. Then, I matched it to the actual reports HYDRA kept. I found a common name for all the HYDRA reports.

“They were all written by a man named Johann Fenhoff, alias: Dr. Faustus.”

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: Beggar Man / Нищий

They were not even a full twelve hours removed since escaping a twin nuclear detonations in the arctic wastelands. Two devastating detonations carried out under secret orders because for all of his hatred towards them, Michael saw the threat of Unit 616 for what it was.

An ideological demagogue.

Sharon must have informed Michael a little of what she was doing here and why. But it also looked like whatever she had briefed him on was not enough for him to stop her from continuing to cross over.

Steve caught the barest hints of regret in his brother-in-law’s eyes, before returning his attention onto Sharon’s video. He could only guess that Michael was possibly thinking that his enabling of Sharon to continue to cross over, and possibly Department X’s greed for technological advancements caused this.

News and radio had not reported any nuclear tests yet; proving to be a barest hint of amusement to him when he had to remind Sam that the world was not wired as it was in the future. Steve did not think anything would be said until possibly forty-eight hours had passed, at minimum. Announcing the propaganda of a successful nuclear test would be the logical way to go – to strike more fear into people.

Michael destroyed the Soviet stockpile of 0-8-4s, but had also played directly into the hand of Unit 616’s goal – fear.

What had been clear-cut in the years since the fall of SHIELD had now become incredibly muddy to Steve. He was not going to deny that an indirect arms race had been and still was fought between SHIELD and Department X. That it paralleled the United States and Soviet Union’s proxy war of gathering as much technological advancements, scientists, engineers, and intellectuals as possible.

Worse yet, there were whispered hints from SHIELD-Asia that what he knew as the historical Cultural Revolution in China was starting. It was much earlier than what he remembered reading about. Added to that instability and potential escalation of fear were the on-going careful negotiations with Jiaying and her Inhumans.

Fear was spreading, and with the instability in the Soviet Union leadership after the death of Stalin, rumblings of even further instability in the Asiatic region long beset by war, Unit 616 had the advantage. If SHIELD came out into the forefront with their 0-8-4s, breaking neutrality, there would be war.

Unit 616 had paralyzed SHIELD response with swift, masterful strokes by sending their agents to chase divergent leads.

“… and that’s where the trail ends, unfortunately.”

Sharon moved the camera so that it was focused on her again. Exhaustion tugged across her eyes; Steve wondered how long it had been since she had gotten any rest. He could only assume that her current state had to have been after he had run into her at Peggy’s grave in London. She had not looked as spent as she did now in the recording.

“For the record: it’s April 26^th, 2018,” Sharon stated. “I’m headed to Minsk tonight to follow a possible lead. Sam, please find Agent Romanov and Sergeant Barnes. They’re the only two who might be able to trace the rest of my investigation to the origin of Unit 616, and stop them.”

The recording stopped and fizzled out.

“Thanos attacked on April 27^th,” Natasha broke the silence.

“For all the weeks, months, or however the fucking long years since everyone was snapped back into existence in your reality, you let her fight this on her own?!”

Michael had stated those words, eyes directly on Sam. There was anger, and it was not just surface-level. Steve saw it in the depths of the man’s eyes, swirling with a need to protect. But, regardless of that, it did not give Michael the right to accuse Sam of all people for negligence.

“Hey—!” Steve began.

“Steve,” Sam interrupted, tone booking no argument.

Sam returned his attention onto Michael, saying, “You’re right. Sharon is a good friend, and I should never have let her do this on her own. I’m not going to give you any bullshit excuse as to why the hell I didn’t know. I just didn’t. But what is done is done.”

As tempted as Steve wanted to ask what had happened after he left, he remained silent. He knew that Sam, Natasha, and even Bucky would not tell him. All they would say would be some variant of ‘go live your life’. His original timeline was no longer his concern, and even with what was not said, it looked as if Sam had settled quite well into his role as the new Captain America.

“We’re going to need that information brick from 2012,” Natasha spoke up into the uncomfortable silence.

“It’s in Headquarters,” Peggy answered.

Steve saw Dottie gaze coolly flick towards Natasha. “Are those files truly going to help us with this, Agent?”

“It’s better than nothing,” Natasha answered. “We’ll need to cross-reference whatever Sharon put on this one.”

“Faustus. There was one in that HYDRA Ascendant reality, and the other one in that Red Skull reality, Steve.”

Heads including Steve’s turned towards the open ramp. Bucky from his original timeline had stated that. Yet, neither of them walked up the ramp.

Steve knew what Bucky was talking about. In the reality where his counterpart was female, he himself had ran into and nearly been caught in whatever scheme that Dr. Faustus had been planning. Of the other where his counterpart had been possessed by the Red Skull, that Dr. Faustus had been killed – but not before inflicting a massive amount of psychological damage on that reality’s Sharon Carter.

“He’s right, Steve,” Natasha spoke up, eyebrows furrowed slightly. “Both of them had some commonalities, including but not limited to psychological manipulation. Hypnosis or something that compelled Faustus’ target to do something against their will – with absolutely no memories of such a manipulation happening. Sounds like someone here that we know of.”

“Ivchenko?” Dottie spoke up. “The only way he compelled was by using the ring.”

“The ring was destroyed,” Peggy spoke up, her gaze not down the ramp, but raised slightly beyond; towards where Dr. Ivchenko was being held.

Because of Ivchenko’s previous capture and incarceration, Peggy had ordered the man gagged again, and isolated him from the others – Michael and Belova included. It didn’t matter if Ivchenko had the ring or not, the man was already quite persuasive with words.

“Your SSR briefly incarcerated Ivchenko with Zola in Alaska, Chief Carter,” Michael quietly spoke up. “Given his association with Leviathan, and what was created during their little ‘honeymoon’ period, I’d say that’s compelling proof of him being this ‘Dr. Faustus’ in Sharon’s reality.”

“Then why didn’t you kill him here and now, when you returned home, Wolf Spider?”

Bucky here and now did not hide any of his vitriolic tone, as his question carried up the ramp and into the cargo hold. Steve didn’t have the heart to tell him to tone it down; that despite everything, Michael was still seemed to cooperate.

“He was in the gulags, Winter Soldier,” Belova defended Michael.

Yelena Belova’s accent was not what Steve expected; it was perfect English with a hint of a mid-Western American accent. She had been quiet throughout the entire debrief and examination of the capsule; expression pensive.

Neither herself nor Dr. Ivchenko had been as severely injured as Sharon. Confirming that Belova in his original reality had been Sharon’s mother, was heartbreaking for Steve to hear. Given that the woman’s attention on the quinjet had primarily focused on Sharon, Steve couldn’t help but wonder if Sharon had shared that information with Belova in this reality.

“A slow death in perpetual isolation without the chance to ever see the sun again seemed more appropriate,” Belova continued.

Steve winced, as did Peggy and Sam. Natasha looked unperturbed by such a harsh way to die, and Dottie looked unnervingly amused.

“Then why did we find him with you and Sharon, Ms. Belova?” Sam questioned.

“Sharon asked the Director to free him.”

“What?” Natasha was the first to beat them all to it, arms unfolding from being crossed over her chest. “That’s… not like Sharon to ignore history. Even if she didn’t know half of SHIELD’s history, she wouldn’t have ignored the fact that there were many hidden double-agents flushed out into the open in the aftermath of SHIELD’s fall. Hell, before Sokovia, we just spent time running around the world cleaning up the mess and learning how some of them were coerced or manipulated to serve HYDRA.”

Steve nodded. That period between the fall of SHIELD, his and Sam’s search for Bucky, and before Sokovia was not something he liked to remember much. Just the sheer amount of mistrust in ordinary people, and paranoia that gripped the world made it seem so disheartening and chaotic.

“It’s also not like her to steal tech and give it to a rival agency, Nat,” Sam pointed out. “Especially in a time period that is clearly less technologically advanced, where she knows she could ignite a cold war into a hot one.”

“Dr. Ivchenko told you that she only brought a small amount, mostly medical marvels that could potentially help us better our people – the world even,” Belova stated.

“No offense, Ms. Belova, but considering we’re putting Dr. Ivchenko under the microscope right now, how much of that is true?” Sam questioned.

“The medical technology, yes,” Michael surprisingly spoke up. “I occasionally crossed over to retrieve and examine a few things myself. She requested Dr. Ivchenko to be freed. I did not question it.”

“First mistake,” came the snide remark from Bucky.

“Enough,” Steve intervened before things could escalate.

He couldn’t tell which Bucky had stated that; their backs facing the open ramp. He suspected that it was his Bucky here and now, but didn’t feel like confirm it. It was clear that even as the Wolf Spider, Sharon had somehow managed to get through to him – to his humanity – and convince Michael. For what purpose Sharon wanted Dr. Ivchenko freed was something that they would have to wait and ask her – when she woke up.

“Peggy?” he turned slightly towards his wife.

“Dr. Ivchenko remains under guard, gag, and in an isolated cell once we return to headquarters,” Peggy stated. Steve saw her eyes flick towards both Belova and Michael. “I ask that as part of our ongoing truce, that you do not disclose these details to your colleague, even by paper.”

“Done, Chief,” Belova stated.

“Fine,” was all Michael said, tone cold.

The silence that fell between all of them was uncomfortable.

It was broken a few seconds later, as Sam declared, “Well, if someone’s not going to say it, I will. I’m fresh out of ideas on how to tackle this. Unit 616 clearly has more firepower than us, controls the seat of power in this Soviet Union, and controls this side of the portal.”

“SHIELD’s public response has been effectively paralyzed,” Steve couldn’t help but murmur.

“What is holding them from bringing in reinforcements from the other side? Assuming that the three of you made it through because it is not controlled by this Unit 616 group,” Belova asked.

“Allies of ours,” was all Natasha stated.

“Then let us hope they will remain steadfast,” Peggy stated. “Mr. Wilson, would you allow SHIELD to examine the files that Agent Carter showed us?”

Steve saw Sam glance at Natasha, whom had an unreadable look. Steve sympathized; Sam was coping quite well with this new reality, but still disliked the whole espionage part of it.

“With all due respect, Chief Carter, I wouldn’t be comfortable with your eggheads cross-referencing files. They can probably pursue other avenues, but I think it really should be left to those who know about the 2012 brick and all of its contents, along with Sharon’s files,” Sam stated.

“I would like to help,” Belova spoke up.

Sam opened his mouth before closing it. Steve saw him glance over to Peggy, who had a slightly pensive look. He wasn’t quite sure if it was primarily due to sating curiosity, or allowing a sense of closure for everything they had gone through, that Peggy had allowed her brother, along with Belova to view the capsule.

“She is not your daughter in this reality, Yelena. Neither is she my niece. All we are obligated to do is to return her to her reality and time, and seal this portal.”

Michael’s unexpectedly cold statement caused more than a few people to frown in concern, Steve included. Considering the demeanor in which Michael had broke down in that interrogation room, this was a very strange turn of personality.

“Even now you still fight, Wolf Spider,” Belova unexpectedly hissed. “You don’t wear guilt and remorse gracefully.”

Without another word, she suddenly stalked off the quinjet. Michael’s glare at her retreating back, along with his sharp look at everyone else answered it, before he too, descended. The barely audible scrapes of both Buckys’ feet going after the two was heard; their vigilance in guarding and ensuring that neither the Soviet Black Widow or Wolf Spider ran off, constant.

The meeting broke up quickly after that; Steve and Natasha remaining behind. As much as Steve wanted to go after the two himself, he had a lot of questions for Natasha – especially in light of Sharon’s revelations.

“Well, at least you’re not outright stating for me to look on the bright side,” Natasha spoke up, idly playing with the zoom function on the holographic projector. It was currently paused on the name of ‘Dr. Faustus’ on one of the papers.

Steve gave her a wan smile. “So what now?”

“If you’re asking about 1984 and that trip we took to see my ‘birth’, you needn’t be worried, Rogers,” she stated. “I came clean to Sharon as soon as I found out whom she was; files released in 2014 and all. I figured that she would have more than likely found encrypted files about HYDRA’s operations in 1984.”

Steve tried not to worry, but it was apparent he was failing at his attempt. The warm, comforting hand of Natasha landed on his own for a moment and squeezed.

“She helped me with a thing I had going on between 2016 and 2017. Where I was away from you and Sam for a few months.”

“The one where you told us Secretary Ross almost captured you?” Steve questioned.

“I escaped,” she said, impishly smiling. “Besides, it’s now paying dividends. I called them in, and they’re the ones guarding the portal on the other side.”

Steve gave her a curious look. “Not our mutual friends who guarded the other portal?”

Natasha openly grinned. “Nope. Forty of my ‘sisters’ and their ‘toys’.”

“Sisters?” Steve began. “I thought you were the last of the Black Widows?”

“Last of the Soviet Black Widows, Rogers,” she answered. “My ‘new’ sisters were not named so much in public as that, since I all but absconded with the name when I defected to SHIELD. But, they were Widows. It’s not a problem you need to involve yourself in, Rogers. Sharon helped me begin to free some of them before Thanos attacked. I tried to continue where I could in the aftermath. Thus far there are at least sixty my sisters and I have freed.”

“Freed,” Steve repeated, realizing the implications behind those words. “Nat—”

“Rogers.”

Steve snapped his mouth shut. Natasha’s admonishing expression was enough for him to not further pry. It was as she said – things he did not need to know about. Whatever had happened between 2016 and 2017 while she was on the run and evading Secretary Ross, was for her own personal benefit.

“Sorry,” he apologized.

The silence between them was comfortable, but Steve still had questions – not related to Natasha and her ‘sisters’ holding and defending the other side of the portal.

“Ivchenko. Do you know anything else about him? If he had a hand in creating the Winter Soldier, and possibly Wolf Spider…”

“Like I said earlier, Steve, I can’t fathom why Sharon would ask to free him,” Natasha asked. She gave him a skeptical look. “I’m honestly surprised that James hasn’t killed him yet.”

“If you or Sam will let me look at the 2012 brick, I want to check something. Sharon’s words about this ‘Dr. Faustus’ and what we know of Ivchenko compared to the other two Dr. Faustus from the other realities doesn’t sit well with me,” Steve said.

“You’re agreeing with Wolf Spider’s assessment?” Natasha asked.

“Maybe?” Steve shrugged. He gestured to the projection. “I just don’t understand why she’d call in Sam and Bucky, and not me. Especially if it involves some kind of HYDRA spin-off organization.”

Steve could tell the quip was easily on Natasha’s lips, but she didn’t say it. Instead, she said, “It sounds as if she was calling in the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier, Steve. Soviet stuff that even you wouldn’t have information on. Which means, that Unit 616 may have been born specifically within Soviet soil, instead of grown throughout the world.”

She hummed, then took the capsule from the projector. “Something that both of us will have to keep in mind. Mind if I tell Sam and Barnes about it?”

“Go ahead,” Steve nodded. “You guys okay in letting me look through the 2012 stuff and cross-referencing with Sharon’s files?”

“Shouldn’t be a problem. I’m going to see if I can convince Sam to loop in James as well. It’s a little eerie how he and Barnes are behaving. Barnes stated that it’s possibly an isolated incident.”

“Nothing from your counterpart here then?” Steve asked, frowning slightly in concern.

He was worried – especially with the initial reaction of Bucky of the 2020s with the absolutely blank look that was the Winter Soldier and Bucky in the here and now, shown on the quinjet. Then, there was the mirroring of actions, words, and even silent looks that barely took a second to communicate.

“I’m inclined to believe him.”

Natasha’s statement was meant to be reassuring, but Steve heard the underlying warning within it as well. His tendency to worry over Bucky always roared to the forefront to the point of almost smothering; he needed to keep it in check. Bucky – either of them – would come to him for help if or when either of them needed it.

“All right.”

* * *

Later…

It was inevitable, Bucky supposed, that with all things considered Steve would eventually come looking for him. The brief talk they had had with Steve asking him permission to tell everyone else about the fall of SHIELD had held the promise of a conversation not yet done.

“I’m not talking about what happened in the world at all after you left, Steve,” he stated, as he carefully examined his broken Wakandan-made arm.

The device that had rendered it was still embedded in the palm. Steve’s booted footsteps up the ramp and into the cargo hold of Romanov’s quinjet echoed. Bucky looked up from where he was sitting, and placed the arm down.

“Didn’t realize that even tech from our mutual friends got old or could be damaged, Buck,” Steve stated, gesturing to the replacement arm.

Bucky didn’t need a mirror, nor of the ghostly feelings he got from his counterpart here to see that most of the people were very uncomfortable whenever their eyes strayed over his skeletal-looking hand. Even sleeved in a hollow lattice, it hadn’t been skinned yet – he had not yet completed design and development of ‘skinning’.

“Not their tech,” he answered, wiggling his fingers. “Mine. My own design and build. Adamantium. Supposed to be stronger than vibranium.”

“Huh,” was all Steve said, before asking, “May I sit?”

Bucky wordlessly gestured for him to do so. Whereas he supposed that the Steve of old would have sat next to him, anxiousness upon his expression, unsurprisingly Steve now sat across the cargo hold.

“I have my suspicions as to who may have damaged it—”

“—but that’s all you’ll say about it, right?” Steve followed up.

He nodded. He hadn’t thought the person capable of damaging his vibranium arm had been affiliated with Unit 616, but it seemed that the insidious organization’s reach was far more wide-spread than anyone had thought.

“I know you’re leery about future tech being here and all, but can I borrow SHIELD’s engineering labs?” Bucky asked. “Romanov doesn’t have the necessary tools or instruments for me to analyze the damage, and try to confirm if my hunch is correct.”

“I’ll have to ask Peggy,” came Steve’s surprising answer.

It was apparent he was unable to completely keep it from his expression as he saw Steve grin, familiar-looking. “Don’t look so surprised, Buck. I’m semi-retired. SHIELD just authorized my deployment specifically for Sharon’s rescue. I’m technically not allowed to do anything else.”

“Even with Unit 616 a threat?” he asked.

“Peggy will do her best to convince the other Section Chiefs on what is needed. We’re dealing with more than just the Unit 616 threat here, Bucky. We got – or had a 0-8-4 arms race against the Soviet’s Department X, and we also have Jiaying and her Inhumans recently making contact.”

Bucky sighed, and looked down at his arm for a moment. “Portal, SHIELD, Inhumans emerging, stealing tech across realities, and a HYDRA threat in the form of Unit 616 or whatever they really are. Sounds familiar, Steve.”

“I know,” Steve answered.

Nothing else was said; Bucky didn’t think anything else could be said about the current situation. It was too familiar, yet too alien for either of them to grasp; the memories of what they had faced in the other reality where SHIELD fell and HYDRA ascended – had been defeated because of key differences in people and technology that Bucky didn’t think Steve’s reality had.

Unit 616 had invaded with superior technology at a time of upheaval; secured their base of power, and were well on their way to spreading fear in a world where the ‘Cold War’ was just shy of becoming hot. Even if named differently, the ghostly mantra of HYDRA seemed to echo.

C ut off one head, two more shall take its place.

Steve broke the brief silence that fell between them, asking, “How are you doing, Bucky?”

The short, curt answer of ‘fine’ was on the tip of Bucky’s tongue. But, it was cruel, something that he would have said if he had seen Steve a few months ago while still atoning for what he had done. Still attending the court-mandated therapy sessions.

“Well,” he said, giving Steve a small smile. “Better. Our mutual friends provided evidence. Courts cleared me after some negotiations for what I had to do – mandated things and all that.”

“Community service?” Steve asked.

“Therapy,” he quietly answered. “It… helped. A lot.”

“I’m glad you’re doing better, Bucky. Truly,” Steve said.

There was a brief pause, but it was a pleasant one, and not the ones that seemed to lay in tension. Bucky could have sworn that it felt better than before they went to war, able to speak so plainly and normally – even under these extenuating circumstances.

“You enlisted again? Or did Sam drag you into this—”

“Sam didn’t drag me into this,” he interrupted, shaking his head. “I volunteered. Had some free time between studying for my upcoming thesis defense to help him look for Carter.”

“Thesis defense?”

“Being a superhero doesn’t pay the bills, Steve,” he answered. “Gotta find work somewhere.”

“Yeah, but thesis defense?” Steve persisted. “Masters degree?”

Bucky gave his best friend a look. “Promise not to laugh?”

“Why would I?” Steve asked, puzzled. “You were the smartest in our class, Bucky! Hell, I thought you were saving up your money from working in the Shipyards to go to Polytechnic.”

He couldn’t help but faintly grin at that. It was a faint, barely discernible memory among the gaps, but nonetheless, something that spurred him to continue on with life within his Steve-less world.

“Second doctorate,” he stated. “Both from NYU.”

There was no answer for a second, before he saw Steve smile, wide, happy and eyes tearing up. Then, Bucky was engulfed in a tight embrace. “I’m happy for you, Buck,” Steve’s muffled congratulations brushed across his ear.

To his relief, Steve let go and sat across again, instead of next to him. “Can I read both theses?”

“What, you got degrees in astrophysics, and in materials and bio-medical mechanical engineering?” he facetiously asked.

“Well, I just want to see what inroads in research and the expansion of human knowledge for the betterment of the world has been done,” Steve teasingly answered.

At that Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle. “Both Dr. Foster and our mutual friends from the Oakland Outreach Center would have some words with you, Steve. I’ll think about it.”

He could tell that Steve really wanted to continue asking – especially since he deliberately dropped Dr. Foster’s name. But, to his surprise, Steve nodded.

“You and Peggy?” he asked.

“Doing well. No children, yet,” Steve answered.

The question was on the tip of his tongue, but Bucky wasn’t sure if it was his business to press. Most of it was from his observations of the dynamics, and some from the rather uncomfortable, somewhat invasive flashes of memories he got from his counterpart. He had let go in 2023, and he had no right to continue to pry—

“We’re doing well, Buck. As well as circumstances allow.”

Startled, Bucky hadn’t realized he had folded his hands together and tucked into himself slightly. He looked up, the sincere look Steve gave him a reassuring balm that both of them had made the right choice on that day in 2023.

He quietly sighed. “1950s,” he murmured.

“You find someone?” Steve asked.

Bucky snorted. “No,” he truthfully admitted. “Did try my hand at online dating. Not really a great avenue. Sam’s been a complete asshole whenever I talk to his sister.”

Steve lightly laughed; Bucky smiled. It was freeing, refreshing, and needed – considering the current circumstances. It helped hold back the otherworldly, ghostly anger coming from his counterpart, along with his own contemplative thoughts, and continued path to atone for what he had done as the Winter Soldier.

As much as Bucky didn’t want to break the silence into more uncomfortable territory, he needed to know; to get as objective of a view as possible. “Steve.”

The sun-bright smile Bucky missed was wiped away, as seriousness crossed and settled into Steve’s eyes.

“What happened… to Carter? To what Ivchenko and Belova call the Wolf Spider? All I got from my counterpart here is that he betrayed the three of you?”

In response, he saw Steve sigh. It was Steve’s turn to fold briefly within himself, as Bucky saw him fold his hands together, resting his elbows on his knees. Bucky continued to keep his own thoughts and memories of the Wolf Spider tucked away; this one here different than the one in their original reality.

“Death of personality,” Steve stated. “You… Bucky of this reality accidentally invoked it during the time where I was trying to return the Infinity Stones. I’m not sure if Michael had been truly a double-agent before then, but he certainly became one after that. He knew too much about the future, about the stones, and about the SSR. We were all compromised.”

“But even with that ‘Sword of Damocles’ held above, you guys somehow raised SHIELD?” Bucky asked, incredulous.

“He raised Department X, the Red Room,” Steve stated.

“That explains the hand signals,” he murmured. “Belova and Ivchenko gave Sam and I an abbreviated history of what happened since the end of the war.”

“0-8-4 arms race,” Steve sighed.

“It still doesn’t explain why the three of you keep pushing him away, Steve,” Bucky stated. “As shit as my memories are, I do remember what defecting agents look like through the scope. Why didn’t any of you try to save him before all of this?”

Two knocks on the frame of the quinjet interrupted them.

“Our rides back to SHIELD-Europe HQ are here,” Sam stated.

* * *

The convoy was not out of place, with all things considered, but Peggy still kept a weather eye out from where she was sitting in the armored truck. The five trucks were on loan from MI-5; carefully negotiated in exchange for any information that SHIELD would extract from the infamous Wolf Spider.

She and Steve drove one; Michael sitting in the transport section – cuffed and secured. Dottie and another SHIELD agent were driving the second one; empty as a decoy. Belova was cuffed and secured to the third transport; two SHIELD agents driving the truck. Ivchenko – still gagged – was secured in the fourth, with SHIELD agents also driving the truck.

Finally Bucky of Steve’s original timeline, and Sam Wilson were the fifth transport. Neither were secured, but had agreed to play potential decoys. Bucky drove the truck, and surprisingly, Natasha had opted to sit in the cab with him. Considering the rapport the two had shown during Steve’s mission to return the Infinity Stones, Peggy left it alone.

Of Sharon, she remained at the hospital for the time being. Alex remained there as well, seeing to her recovery; SHIELD agents deployed to there when they had brought the five armored trucks to the airfield.

Bucky’s mother had been flown back to the States, the extent of her duties well completed. Peggy had no doubt that Vera Romanova would keep knowledge of what happened during the operation to a minimum – more than likely only reporting to Philips. It was not a guarantee, but with all things experienced and considered during Steve’s Infinity Stone mission, Peggy trusted her.

“Do you think there’s anything we could have done differently, Peggy?”

Peggy briefly drew her searching gaze away from the horizon. Steve’s focus was on the road – and on scanning for potential threats, just like her – but there was a tightness within the corner of his eyes.

“Had we focused as much effort on Michael as much as we – I – did on Bucky, do you think we could have saved him?”

She had no answer for her husband. “I don’t know.”

Steve glanced over. Peggy felt his warm hand briefly envelope her left on the wheel before it was removed.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have asked that. We’re… you’re dealing with a lot, and I shouldn’t have put that kind of burden on you.”

“Steve,” she began, hesitating slightly. With everything that she had seen in the past few days, she had wrestled with the decision.

“I… I want to offer asylum to Michael, bring him in from the cold, but I don’t think he’ll accept. I don’t think he wants to accept it, especially if it comes from me. Philips and the other Section Chiefs don’t know about this yet, and I don’t believe Bucky will stand for it. Not after everything.”

Peggy didn’t expect Steve to be happy with her suggestion either – had expected disappointment, possibly even anger. She clearly remembered that when during the early days of Steve’s mission, Bucky and Michael had broken their relationship – Michael accusing Bucky of cheating with a CI.

While not true, Bucky had willingly ‘cheated’ on Michael during Operation Midnight by seducing targets to extract the necessary information to complete the operation. Steve had taken Bucky’s side; Peggy neutral throughout all of it. She couldn’t take a side – she had needed both Bucky’s specific assassin skill set, and Michael as David Brewster’s bodyguard, at the Brooklyn SSR facility.

Steve always defended Bucky nearly as much as he defended her when possible. Though the three of them were making their strange dynamic, hers and Steve’s marriage included within, work, bringing Michael back after such a massive betrayal – personal and professional – was different.

“Perhaps after Unit 616 is excised and defeated… maybe, just maybe, there will be some forgiveness,” Steve quietly stated. “From each and every one of us.”

Peggy nodded. She sighed, focusing her thoughts back on the more pressing problem at hand. “Then, how do we topple a government controlled by a HYDRA-resurgent group that knows about the history they’re trying to recreate, exacerbate, and reshape?”

“We’ll think of something, Pegs,” her husband answered, reassuringly.

She glanced at him, even though she was still worried. “We always do, don’t we?”

~~~

“James.”

“Natalia.”

Bucky glanced over; they were nearing SHIELD-Europe’s headquarters. “You’ve been oddly quiet throughout the ride.”

“Nothing much to talk about,” she said, casually shrugging. “The situation itself is quite clear.”

“Really?” he asked, doubting.

“Cut off one head, two more shall take its place,” she stated. “HYDRA propaganda and all that. They’ve gained a rather firm foothold here.”

“No thanks to the reckless actions of the Wolf Spider and his people,” Bucky ground out. “Then he has the audacity to come here and beg for help.”

“Contempt. Very unlike you, James.”

He gave Natasha a withering look. He did not need to explain the how and why – Natasha had been witness to the entire debacle when she had been the resident of the Soul Stone.

Natasha, for her part, did not look apologetic. Whatever her thoughts on the Wolf Spider was kept to her own self. She simply removed her feet from the dash and made a show of glancing around, looking for threats.

“When Steve, your counterpart, and I traveled to other realities, we discovered that some of the portals between worlds were formed through fantastical weapons and apparatuses. It doesn’t seem like such a thing formed the portal in Siberia,” she stated. “The fact that Unit 616 sent Spetsnaz through to our timeline to steal more tech or establish a better foothold tells me that they’re partially homegrown here.”

Bucky tightened his hands around the wheel. As much as he did not want to believe Belova’s words or Wolf Spider about Ivchenko being sent to the wastelands’ prisons, he did. He was actually glad that it had happened, even though he much preferred execution for Ivchenko.

“Ivchenko was in a gulag, Natalia.”

“Yes, and they’re notoriously difficult to escape from,” she stated. “Hundreds died each year throughout the entire Soviet regime.”

Even though she was referring to her reality, Bucky knew it was the same. Stalin may had been some kind of ‘benevolent’ leader as was claimed here, but the gulags and their notoriety still existed.

“So, someone else then. Coordinated or communicated?”

“Or something else at work,” she speculated.

There was nothing else to be said in their brief discussion – they had arrived at SHIELD-Europe anyways. Natasha and the others needed to cross-reference and check Sharon Carter’s files in that capsule. Even then, Bucky had an unsettled feeling within him.

Armed SHIELD agents were already present as the trucks pulled up into the loading docks. Bucky parked his, and jumped out. After receiving the temporary badges from an agent, he waved the rest of the agents down from his truck, noting that a few gave Natasha rather strange looks.

Peggy did not mention whether or not SHIELD had been briefed about his counterpart, Wilson, or Natasha crossing over. But, the agents’ attention was quickly refocused on the unloading of the three Soviet prisoners; their priority, more than what Bucky transported.

Lorraine was present, Peggy taking the forefront to briefly talk to her, as the prisoners were ‘herded’ by the SHIELD agents to follow the two. Dottie took the rear. Bucky caught Steve’s brief glance at him, and nodded, before Steve followed Dottie and the small group into the building.

Emptied of SHIELD agents, Bucky unlatched and pulled open the doors to his truck’s cargo hold. Wilson bounded out first, stretching and looking curiously around. Bucky’s counterpart was a little less enthusiastic in exiting, simply stepping out with a quick, discerning look at their surroundings.

It was the same kind of scanning look that Bucky performed whenever in a new environment; mapping exits, entrances, and everything in between. Not quite a threat assessment, but more to just know the environment.

“Ringing any bells, Barnes?”

Bucky glanced at Natasha; the strange resonance between himself and his counterpart strangely quiet for the entire trip. There was no hint of recognition within his counterpart’s eyes, but with all things considered, Bucky knew how much either of them were able to hide behind false pretenses – even if facial.

“No.”

Bucky nodded. Perhaps it was good then, that his counterpart had no memories of this place. That perhaps the resonance between them was only triggered because of heightened emotional states.

“This way, lady and gents,” he stated, starting off.

Behind him, he heard Wilson snort in amusement; footfalls crisp and clear. It was swiftly followed by a quietly murmured warning of “Shut it”, from his counterpart.

Bucky bioscanned himself in, handing the temporary ‘guest’ badges over to the other three. Unofficially, he was designated as the three’s escort. Officially, that would be left up to Steve; his duties to SHIELD extending only to the Level 1 missions assigned to him. Bucky still had his own duties to attend to as a SHIELD agent – he could not babysit Wilson and the others.

When the elevator stopped at the floor and deposited the four of them into the main office floor of SHIELD, the chatter that buzzed around the place instantly fell to silence. The whispers sweeping through the agents, analysts, engineers, and scientists on the floor was inevitable – as were the shocked looks.

There was no way to keep this from SHIELD-Europe.

The airfield was not secured, and did not have the potential technology support the analysis needed to solve this Unit 616 problem. Bucky technically saw Wilson, Natasha, and his counterpart as a 0-8-4 problem; he and everyone else involved in the extract were following protocol in securing their ‘0-8-4s’.

Yet, it was the sudden flash of pain – not piercing, but dull – within his head that gave it away. His counterpart had memories, probably not of the location, but perhaps people. It was indiscernible to Bucky as to what the memory or memories were.

“Barnes,” he heard Natasha softly whisper, concern lacing her tone.

Bucky glanced at his counterpart, a little paler, but hiding most of the pain behind a practiced mask. He gestured for them to follow; the faster they got to the rooms SHIELD had specifically set up for what they needed, the better.

Whispers trailed in their wake, but it was short-lived, as Bucky entered the room where Peggy, Steve, Wilson, and Natasha were situated in. Across from them, was a glass that looked like a one-way mirror. Bucky saw the Wolf Spider, along with Belova in the room. To his surprise, Lorraine was helping the two get settled, while Dottie was passing out a couple of SHIELD-marked folders to them.

“What the hell is going on, Peggy?” he questioned.

“Mr. Wilson, Agent Romanov, Steve, and if you feel up to it, Bucky, will be searching and cross-referencing Agent Carter’s files with the 2012 brick,” Peggy stated. “Dottie and those with her will be following up on any evidence that SHIELD has, with Soviet and possible Leviathan intelligence, could help pinpoint if it is Dr. Ivchenko who may be our reality’s Dr. Faustus.”

“And Ivchenko?”

Bucky glanced at his counterpart, who had been faster in asking than he did. There was a faint, disconcerting look, but the dull pain that resonated between them had faded.

“Secured, Sergeant Barnes. You are also authorized to use the labs however you need. I only ask that you do not disturb the engineers or their work,” Peggy answered.

“Ma’am.”

It was more than strange to hear his own tone and inflection, and the distance that Peggy put in her own when addressing his counterpart. Yet, Bucky supposed that it was for the better – especially to differentiate between the two of them.

“Labs are this way,” he said, guiding his counterpart out.

The 2012 information brick could only be retrieved by him; the safeguards that were put on it still active. No one knew how to change them. Thus Bucky morbidly thought that if he ever died in the field, SHIELD would more than likely attempt to find his body – if only to chop off his hands to access the 2012 brick.

The moment they stepped back out into the primary bullpen, the dull pain lanced through his head again. It was not a pleasant feeling, but he was a little grateful that the whispers were not as audible in following them.

However, that dull pain crawling across and just seemingly under his scalp became acutely piercing the moment he stepped into the Engineering Labs—

The delicate porcelain cup was set in front of the young man, flower pattern seemingly bright against the dimness of the room. It was wordlessly picked up, but not sipped yet.

Expectant eyes settled on the young man, golden-brownish hair and grey-eyed. Slight and skinny as if a gust of wind would snap him. It would be so easy to have just killed him with a simple grapple and snap, but this method of poison via tea…

It felt strangely appropriate.

Even stranger and more confusing, the fact that the young man had not batted and eye and merely watched him prepare the tea, dump the poison in that had been taken from the Black Widow aliased as Dottie Underwood’s body. And had picked it up.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

He frowned. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

A watery smile and eyes full of tears answered. Then, the young man drank the entire cup—

Bucky softly gasped, eyes immediately flicking between his counterpart and the engineer who had come to greet them. David stopped short, surprise evident in his expression, mirroring every other engineer and scientist in the main lab.

“Oh, hello.”

Grief, remorse, and horror filled Bucky; the greeting that his friend gave barely enough to keep him grounded. His counterpart had killed David in 1947… after c apturing Dottie Underwood, because…

Bucky couldn’t find the reason, he didn’t know it. Only the flash of memory from the resonance gave him what he knew. And yet—

“Erm, Bucky, are you all right?”

“Chief Carter said I had permission to use this lab’s equipment and tools?”

“Yes, erm—”

“It’s Sergeant Barnes, Mister…?”

“David. David Brewster,” David’s cheerful voice brought Bucky back to the present.

“Mr. Brewster,” he heard his counterpart state. The two were headed to one of the adjacent facilities, the other engineers within the lab still in various states of shock.

“It’s Doctor,” he interjected, squaring his thoughts as he attempted to tuck the horrific memory of David’s death in the other timeline to the deepest, darkest recesses. “David has a doctorate, counterpart of mine.”

“Dr. Brewster. Sorry,” his counterpart quietly stated.

It was strangely painful to see David cheerfully wave away the incorrect address. But, as soon as his counterpart was settled at a station, with the promise to be undisturbed unless he requested help, Bucky made his way to the vault with the engineering labs. It was where he stored the 2012 information brick.

“Well, I certainly did not expect that.”

Bucky glanced over, but found that he could not strangely keep his attention on his friend. He kept seeing the memory overlaid, and it was making him queasy. He quickly retrieved the brick and locked the vault again.

“Yeah,” he said. “Look. Carter and the rest—”

“You need to go help them, don’t you?” David asked.

“Sorry,” he apologized, knowing that it was not the best excuse he could come up with. He didn’t want to remain there any longer – not when the resonance and David’s presence was making it nearly unbearable.

“Go. We’ll keep.”

Bucky managed to nod, and quickly left. He returned to the room; Steve, Wilson, and Natasha already in deep discussion. Peggy was not present. Even as Bucky activated the brick and shoved it towards the three, he found that he could not stay – did not want to stay and search through files at the moment.

“Bucky?” Steve gently questioned.

“James, you all right?” Natasha had asked that at the same time.

“I need some air,” he said, shaking his head.

“We got this, Buck,” Steve answered, briefly clasping him on the arm.

The sour London air was mercifully blessed in the relief it provided Bucky. As he walked to the edge of the rooftop and leaned against the barriers, he breathed in deeply – and allowed each inhale and exhale to slowly ease the nightmarish memory from his waking thoughts.

Seeing how Dottie was killed and how David was killed… Bucky was fairly certain that the dull pain he felt while walking around the bullpen was associated with possible deaths that either his counterpart had seen, or carried out as the Winter Soldier.

As the Soviet’s greatest asset.

Steve showing him the memories of 2014 and 2016 with the Reality Stone that fateful night had nothing on experiencing the actual memories themselves. It both frightened and angered him – and so much more in between – that he could have been that man. He had been one infernal embedded command word away from turning into his counterpart.

The sound of the metal door to the rooftop opening drew Bucky’s attention away from his own inner turmoil. He noted that the cloud-covered sun had moved a fair amount; he hadn’t realized he had spent quite a long time up here.

“Bucky?”

Bucky turned. David approached, concern and grimacing slightly. Bucky did his best to tuck away the still awful flashes of fleeting, invasive memories he did not want, away.

“Is it possible for you to erm… talk to your counterpart? He’s… broken a lot of the tools.”

He frowned. “Broken?”

David immediately held up his hands. “Ah, no. Not like a rampage of sorts. Just… I don’t believe his metal arm is calibrated. And, I’m not sure…”

“All right,” he acquiesced.

Bucky followed David back in. He had an idea on how exactly to calibrate, but he was also hoping that by carrying out his idea, perhaps it would help resolve the resonance issue. While it had benefits – especially in combat, the shared memories were a severe drawback; Bucky did not want those hideous memories – possibly even worse – in his head.

“Hey,” he called out as soon as he entered the adjacent, isolated lab. The number of shattered screwdrivers, hammers, pliers, and other simple tools that littered the area was ridiculous.

He jerked a thumb at the main lab as his counterpart turned from where he was working. “Hope you got some sterling with you. You’re gonna have to pay for all that broken shit after we get your arm calibrated.”

Bucky’s counterpart frowned. “You take US dollars?”

He couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not – the resonance between them was still bouncing pain and flashes of memories. “Come on,” he said, gesturing for his counterpart to follow.

His counterpart took the damaged metal arm with him, leaving nothing to chance. The engineers’ whispers buzzed after them as they left, but Bucky ignored it.

He took the two of them down to the ground floor – specifically to the room where newly minted and commissioned agents for SHIELD tested their mettle against older, more experienced agents. It had been used to train up agents, but since the Academy had been established, he supposed that this place wasn’t going to see much usage any longer.

Bucky flicked the switch to activate the enhanced shielding within the room, as his counterpart placed the arm down. It had been ages since he needed to do that. The last time he had done so was a brief spar against Steve to make sure the 0-8-4 he had retrieved then had not physically affected him.

He saw his counterpart glance around, clearly hearing the hum, just like he did. Then, those eyes settled on him; a challenge in grey-blue reflecting his own.

Bucky took up a stance, familiar in form and knowledge. Even with the resonance present, his counterpart did not reflect it; the stance taken completely unknown to him in form, if not for the brief whisper of a fleeting memory that was shared in between them:

The Winter Soldier, as he trained the five others within the Siberian silo .

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Thief/Вор

The first punch thrown wasn’t so much a metal-on-metal clash, but more Bucky dragging a facsimile of Steve’s shield from the wall mounts and simply tossing that into his counterpart. That facsimile was for the agents’ usage – in the event they happened to pick up Steve’s shield in the field and needed to briefly take cover behind it.

He was not surprised to see it shred into pieces with little effort.

His own vibranium arm would not have have done such a thing without a lot of effort, sharpened fingers, and a lot more power. Bucky imagined that it would have more than likely shredded the shield like a blunted knife cutting into chicken. Yet he also heard absolutely no mechanisms in the adamantium arm whir.

“That’s stainless steel, you ass,” he stated, throwing his next punch with his good hand, which was blocked just as easily by his counterpart’s flesh-and-blood hand as well.

“Got… another?” his counterpart grunted in between trading swift kicks, flips, and blocks. Neither raised their metal arms in the interim.

“Northwest… corner.”

Bucky huffed with some effort; the swiftness in which his counterpart fought just as fast as Steve. It had been a while since he really had such a challenge—

His world was briefly turned upside down, sailing past him in a blur, before he hit the far wall – in the north west corner. Barely suppressing the aching groan he wanted to unleash, Bucky instead, rolled backwards and up.

He immediately ripped the other steel shield off the wall with his left hand, and whirled. The facsimile shield zipped through the air with barely a sound. Even before he completed his turn and halted, he saw the shield partially crumple like an accordion against the bare-handed block.

The shield was dropped, a dull thud echoing in the room. The not amused look that Bucky exchanged with his counterpart was silent in pure disapproval. Bucky reached for yet another weapon, and brandished it against his counterpart.

“High-strength, low-alloy steel. One-point-two-five inches thick,” he said, knocking the end of the staff to the ground, before leaping at his counterpart.

~~~

“… still dangerous to keep—”

Peggy noticed the blinking light on her other phone line. Lorraine knew she was in a conference with the other Division Chiefs and would have never bothered her unless it was a dire emergency.

“Daniel,” she regretfully interrupted her dear friend. “I apologize for interrupting you, but I have to take this other call. I will return when I can.”

With a scattered chorus of acknowledgments, Peggy put the line on hold – courtesy of specialized modifications done to the secured model 500 telephone. She picked up the other line and pushed the button to answer.

“Security on the line,” was all Lorraine stated before Peggy heard a small click that indicated she had connected both of their lines to security.

“Carter speaking,” she stated.

“Chief!” came the panicking voice of the security guard on duty. “Agent Barnes is in the training room and the damper shield is active! We’re not sure what’s happening, but it looks as if he’s fighting against someone!”

Peggy knew that there were surveillance cameras strung up all over SHIELD headquarters. Some were obtrusive and obvious, others less so. The training room where newly minted SHIELD agents used to test their mettle against veteran agents was no longer used, but Peggy had kept it – primarily because Engineering still had not yet found a way to easily transfer or expand the damper shield elsewhere.

The damper shield was exclusively used during firearms demonstrations, or whenever Steve and Bucky sparred. It had only been used once by the two, when Bucky had brought back a 0-8-4 that had accidentally and unfortunately physically affected a few people whom had been exposed to it. Medical had wanted to make sure Bucky was clear and free of any ill effects and in full health, hence the sparring.

That sparring session had been held in private; with only herself and the medical officer evaluating Bucky’s health present and watching through the observation deck. She had not wanted such a thing to turn into a ridiculous circus.

At present, Peggy inwardly sighed. If Bucky was sparring with whom she suspected, then the cause of alarm was not as concerning as the security guards monitoring the surveillance cameras made it out to be.

“If the shield is active, there should be no danger to the rest of the building or personnel,” she calmly stated. “Agent Lorraine will meet you down there to assess the situation.”

“Yes, ma’am,” the security guard stated. “Thank you, ma’am.”

There was another click, and the line was disconnected from the security office. “Meredith, at least find out what Agent Barnes is doing and why.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Peggy swapped lines and returned to her conference.

~~~

“What did you mean by your comment in that hospital alleyway when you said, ‘I don’t recall seeing or hearing about Dr. Carter in that other reality’?” Bucky huffed as he swung the sickle down with force.

It smashed into his counterpart’s metal arm, folding and briefly screeching as it was dragged down and out, before being yanked out of his own hand and discarded.

“Doc says he clearly remembered you and Steve,” Bucky continued, blocking a rapid series of punches and kicks in retaliation.

They were still not fully sparring with their metal arms, and yet, Bucky seemed to not be able to gain any upper hand. Even with the strange resonance between them, all he was feeling was feedback to each punch he landed.

He was fairly certain that his counterpart was feeling the same – and using the feedback to further calibrate the adamantium arm. Any attempts to ‘see’ what his counterpart would do to block or attack was met with blankness.

“Steve taught you, didn’t he,” was all his counterpart stated.

“Yeah?” Bucky said, sprinting to the east wall and yanked a machete off.

He didn’t even get to turn around and sprint at his counterpart, when his counterpart had already closed the distance. “What about it?” he challenged as they clashed again.

Beneath their booted feet were the littered remains of many weapons – some crumbled to fine dust, other shredded similarly to the first shield. But, more and more were just simply bent – as they continued to engage in the odd sparring session.

Bucky suddenly found his world turned right side up. He landed on the floor quite painfully and found himself staring up at his counterpart. That adamantium hand of his was curled around the hilt of the machete he had had; tip of the blade held inches above him.

“You’re crushing the handle a bit.”

His counterpart’s eyes flicked over to the weapon, before an annoyed look briefly crossed his expression. The weapon was thrown away, and the flesh-and-blood hand thrust into Bucky’s face. He grabbed it and was hauled up.

“At least you didn’t inherit his weakness to not cover his right flank. Next time, go for the legs,” was all his counterpart stated, taking position again.

Bucky paused for a moment in retrieving the next weapon. He thought briefly back to the style and methods that Steve had taught him during the mission to return the Infinity Stones. Considering how they sparred against each other…

“Huh,” he hummed. The legs were a weak point he hadn’t realized.

It was not quite a confirmation, but it did explain how his counterpart was more than likely able to read Bucky’s defensive moves and offensive attacks regardless of weapon. He knew his counterpart had fought against Steve before. Any advantage Bucky tried to gain was more than likely anticipated – he would have to rethink his strategy if he wanted to ‘beat’ his counterpart in this spar.

He plucked the two-handed claymore off the rack. It was a rarely used weapon, due to the fact that not only did SHIELD have little use for wielding claymores in the field, it was incredibly heavy – to the average SHIELD agent. Turning, he met the skeptical look with a brash grin of his own.

“Do you even know how to use that?”

Bucky’s grin got even wider. “It’s a sword. Lift, swing, chop.”

“Lift, swing, fucking chop,” he heard him mutter in aggravation laced with exasperation. “Jesus Christ.”

“Don’t break it,” Bucky lifted the claymore with his metal hand into the air. “It’s carbon steel. And, you’re still dodging the question.”

~~~

What should have been a fairly short reconnaissance for Lorraine turned into a fairly unusually long one – at least that was what Peggy thought as she finished typing out a draft of the orders for SHIELD-Europe; her conference complete a half-hour ago.

SHIELD’s Chiefs were in agreement with the preliminary plan to counter Unit 616, with Philips informed and ready to intercede in any UN sessions if needed. Any sort of planning or operations execution to take control of the portal in Siberia was tabled for a later discussion.

They could not go into the USSR with 0-8-4s and demand a change in the seat of power. It would destroy their neutrality. Confirmation of what exactly Unit 616 was, and just how far of a foothold they had besides the seat of power in the Soviet government still had to be carried out.

Philips had only indicated that SHIELD-Europe exercise the utmost caution in continuing to utilize Michael and Belova’s help. SHIELD-North America was re-tasked to support and set up South America with all haste. SHIELD-Asia was still in the midst of conducting secret negotiations with Jiaying and her Inhumans.

As for Ivchenko, extradition papers were being drawn up by the United States to transfer him to SHIELD-North America – and then remanded to the American government’s custody. Considering that Ivchenko had attacked the SSR, which was an American intelligence division, SHIELD had no jurisdiction in keeping him.

Peggy put the papers together into a folder, stood up, and briefly stretched. It was slightly strange for Lorraine to not return and report with information – even if it was a slip of paper, or even a blinking signal on her phone.

She took the folder with her and opened the door to her office. Lorraine’s desk was empty. Walking out of the suite and into the open bull pen, she blinked slightly in surprise. Nearly the entire bullpen was empty.

A quick walk and glance into the secured room where Steve, Sam, and Natasha were supposed to be yielded to be empty. The 2012 information brick was not present either, though Sam and Steve’s shields had been left behind.

Dottie, Michael, and Belova’s room was also empty; their folders tucked back into the boxes they had originally come from. There was no physical indication of struggle or escape.

“Steve,” she began, catching sight of her husband turning the corner of the hall that led to this floor’s bathrooms.

“Yeah?” he began, then stopped short. His puzzled expression matched her own. “Where is everyone?”

“Agent Mercer said something about some kind of training room spar, sir and ma’am,” one of the few remaining analysts in the bullpen quietly spoke up.

Peggy sighed in exasperation, briefly rubbing her forehead with a hand. “Oh for the love of…”

“Peggy?” Steve questioned.

“Bucky,” she said, giving him a frank look. “Security called in a panic earlier, stating that he was fighting someone in the training room. Damper shields and all.”

Steve sighed. Peggy saw him reach into the room where the shield was, and pluck it up. He slotted it into the back hook that formed as soon as he tapped in a sequence in the bangle on his left wrist.

She followed him into the elevator. As it descended, she couldn’t help but tap her foot on the floor rather crossly. Movement out of the corner of her eyes had her glancing over and up to meet Steve’s eyes.

Steve shook his head in annoyance, she agreed with the sentiment. They shared a slightly amused grin. When the elevator dinged open, she stepped out with him.

The observation area was not quite on the second floor. It had a separate access point and set of stairs to reach it.

From the angle where she stood, Peggy saw the shadowed silhouette of several SHIELD agents. Among them, she caught a glimpse of the flame-red hair of Natasha. Even more surprising, Peggy caught a glimpse of Michael among the loose crowd – though he was clearly flanked by Dottie.

Irritation swept through her; they did not need this at the moment. Peggy went to the door and tapped in the override code. It swished open, releasing the sounds of clanging – metal hitting metal, dull and sharp.

Steve immediately stepped in.

~~~

Bucky spun around the moment he felt the air currents change, it’s whisper sharp and swift. His left arm, skeletal black and dully gleaming against the lights of the room was already raised up even before he completed his turn.

The silver, red-white-blue concentric circled shield slammed into his hand with a dull thud; movement completely arrested. As Bucky curled his fingers around the shield, he gave Steve a rather disdainful look.

“Didn’t work the first time in DC, Steve,” he stated, dropping his arm, and tossing the shield to his counterpart. “Ain’t gonna work any other time.”

“That’s enough, you two,” Steve stated, as Bucky saw his counterpart casually toss the shield back to Steve. “Party’s over. Get back to work.”

“Agent. Sergeant,” Peggy entered, just as angrily annoyed, if not even more than Steve.

Her eyes focused first on Bucky’s counterpart. “First and only warning. Any further incidents such as this again, and you will be suspended from duty, Agent Barnes. This mess and all of the replacements that need to be brought, forged, or assembled will be docked from your pay until completed.”

Her sharp eyes flicked over to him, and as spotty as his memory was, Bucky did remember those same piercing eyes on him from the war. He didn’t remember the argument, but he did remember being slightly fearful of just how sharp her words were.

“Same warning, Sergeant Barnes. You just get off scot-free from paying.”

“Ma’am,” he answered.

“It was less expensive than replacing more tools from Engineering, Peggy,” he heard his counterpart state.

Bucky caught his counterpart glance at him. “Calibrated?” his counterpart questioned.

He nodded, briefly curling his left fingers. “Didn’t crush Steve’s shield at all. Felt normal.”

Steve shook his head at both of them. “Did you guys have to make a mess?”

Bucky looked around, before the spark of thought and briefly amused feeling rolled through and resonated between them. “No, but the crowd loved it.”

He glanced up towards the barely seen observation room. Because of how the room’s ceiling was curved and built, those within the room couldn’t quite see those within the observation deck. However, it was the opposite for those within the observation deck.

Bucky was not familiar with the footfalls of everyone here yet, but he had seen his counterpart tense ever so slightly when the first two of the observers had made themselves known. That tension had ebbed, and Bucky had taken it to mean that it was not a threat; at least to his counterpart.

However, as the crowds grew, the tense posture had returned in full force the moment a specific footfall entered the observation room. It had been laced with clear anger. Considering there was only one person within these walls of SHIELD-Europe who could do that, it didn’t take much to guess whom those footsteps belonged to.

Bucky’s confirmation was not for long, as he followed Peggy, Steve, and his counterpart out the room. Sam and Romanov were already on the ground floor. Descending the stairs behind the two were Belova and Carter, with Underwood following. There was a coolly indifferent expression on Carter’s face.

His counterpart’s anger was palpable within the resonance between them, but Bucky had had enough time to find a way to ignore it for the most part. He was unable to block the surge of high emotions, but he was able to carve out, for the lack of a better word, a place where it didn’t completely affect him like the first few times.

“You win some bets?” he noticed Sam handing Romanov a tenner.

“Yeah,” Romanov answered, a slightly impish look upon her face. “Namely how pissed off Steve was going to get when he found the two of you.”

“Thanks,” Steve dryly stated.

“That wasn’t actually you guys sparring was it?” Sam questioned. “’Cause it looked more like Agent Barnes here was just trying to beat you up with any weapon.”

“Calibration,” he stated, briefly holding up his metal arm, before tapping his head. “Not a spar. I can’t spar, Sam.”

Bucky ignored not just his counterpart’s but also Peggy and Steve’s slightly concerned look upon him. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the vestiges of what he went through in the waning days of 1991 – training the Winter Guard – that made him fugue every time he attempted to spar. But for this arm calibration, he wondered if it was the resonance between him and his counterpart that allowed him to hold onto his awareness.

He was grateful that Sam ignored the admission in favor of deflection, asking, “Dude, man, wasn’t there some other way to do that?”

If the tension was going to ebb with the semi-repeated words of Steve, except from Sam’s mouth now, it didn’t get a chance to. Lorraine’s sudden appearance at the entrance and her hurried push down the stairs and past personnel slowly returning to their duties heightened it.

“Chief, BBC Radio,” Lorraine said.

~~~

The PA system nearest to the training room was quickly re calibrated. What agents, analysts, and other personnel that had not left had stopped to listen in. The bypass to BBC Radio being broadcast throughout the building crackled for a moment, before resolving into the announcer’s voice.

“… have evidence that within recent days, the Americans have detonated an atomic device, estimated to be about fifteen megatons in the remote Pacific islands. A mushroom-like cloud was witnessed by distant inhabitants to rise about 130,000 feet, with an estimated diameter of 62 miles.”

“Additionally, not hours after the detection in the Pacific, evidence of another atomic detonation was detected in the USSR. A fireball resembling a miniature sun was witnessed and visible over six hundred miles away by our correspondents in Alaska and Norway, along with a hat-shaped cloud nearly reaching the edge of heights…”

“Shit… if my history is correct, the first is more than likely Castle Bravo at Bikini Atoll,” Steve heard Sam softly curse. “Supposed to have happened on the first of March local, in 1954.”

“And the USSR test?” Peggy asked.

Steve had only briefly read up on the history of the worlds’ nuclear testing, finding the subject maddening and distasteful. He had also found it disheartening that even in the modern times, countries still had stockpiles of such destructive weapons – essentially holding the world hostage by the occasional vocal threats of nuclear war.

He saw Sam glance at the closed expression of Michael. “That might have been us flying over… where was it again?”

“Over the archipelago Северная Земля, Mr. Wilson,” Michael stated.

“Which is no where near Но́вая Земля́,” Natasha spoke up, frowning slightly. “Unless…”

She trailed off for a moment, before glancing at Peggy. “Пе́рвая мо́лния was detonated early in this timeline. If Castle Bravo was also detonated early, this other ‘detected’ test could be a ploy by Unit 616 operatives to stoke fear. The code name for the most powerful nuclear weapon ever created was ‘Ivan’. Fifty megaton yield, compared to Castle Bravo’s fifteen.”

“Tsar Bomba?” Sam stated, blinking in surprise. “That wasn’t even detonated until 1961, Nat.”

“I didn’t think the USSR had that kind of capability yet,” Peggy began, eyes flicking over to Michael

“Not yet,” Michael bit out, reluctantly. “Those detonated at Северная Земля only had, a maximum, three megaton yield each. As advance of an aircraft we were in, I highly doubt that any of us would have survived outrunning anything deploying fifty megatons.”

The look that Natasha gave them silently indicated that Michael was right.

“Then it is more than likely a misinformation campaign to stoke fear,” Peggy nodded. “What happened after this… Tsar Bomba test?”

“Uh,” Sam began, scratching his head.

“The passing of the ‘Treaty Banning Nuclear Weapon Tests in the Atmosphere, in Outer Space and Under Water’,” Natasha stated. “It was supposed to prevent the test detonation of nuclear weapons everywhere except underground. Signed in 1963, though negotiations and the evolution of the treaty started almost immediately after Castle Bravo.”

“I do not believe that that may happen, given what was just announced by your BBC…” Belova began, skeptical.

Steve saw Peggy flip forward the brown folder she had carried with her, and handed it to Lorraine. “Orders for all agents, analysts, and any available personnel across all SHIELD divisions. Soft information campaign. Find the truth and feed it as far, wide, and as swift as possible.”

“1950s version of social media,” Natasha said, admiringly.

“HYDRA of your time nearly succeeded in convincing people to surrender their freedoms and securities,” Peggy stated. “Even if we’re not the old SHIELD of your timeline, Unit 616 knows most of our capabilities – mistakes and successes. It’s more than likely how they usurped the Soviet seat of government and all attached to it.”

“We can only mitigate for now, until we can devise a strategy that they cannot predict. That means, Agent Romanov, you and your friends—” she flicked her expectant look to Belova and Carter “—along with you, former Director and Operative Belova, better get your asses up there and get us that information on Unit 616.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Romanov answered with all seriousness. It was echoed by Sam, as the others. Even Michael, as prideful as he seemed, seemed slightly cowed by the firmness of Peggy’s orders. Steve couldn’t help but feel quite a bit of pride in his wife’s strength and decisiveness; even in the face of personal turmoil.

They took two elevators up to the main floor; Sam, Natasha, and both Bucky in one. Himself, along with Dottie, Belova, in the other Michael.

“Chief Carter,” Michael began just as the groups stepped out of the elevators. “You can find a фиалка in the Savoy on the fourth floor, in the corner of Room 224.”

Steve was confused, as he didn’t understand what exactly Michael was talking about. Sam’s equally confused expression, along with Dottie and Peggy cemented the fact that no one knew why Michael had suddenly stated that. Even Belova was giving Michael a curious look. It was certainly double-speak—

“A фиалка?” Natasha questioned, taking a step forward, surprised.

“What is… it?” Peggy began, frowning slightly.

“The equivalent to…” Natasha began, the frowned slightly as she hummed, clearly trying to remember something. “Probably the American’s SIGABA or British Typex.”

Steve blinked in slight surprise. Everyone knew that the Soviets had managed to encrypt their messages. No one had ever seen the decryption-encryption machine – or machines; MI5 raids on suspected safe houses for Soviet agents always coming up empty. The ‘fialka’ sounded like a code name of sorts, but it was clear that Natasha had heard, or even used it before during her time in the USSR.

“Why do you need it?” Peggy questioned.

“Call it a gesture of good will for mine and Yelena’s continued cooperation. I’d like to use it—”

“To do what?” Bucky interrupted, tone cold. “Tell your buddies—”

Steve moved to firmly grasp Bucky by his good arm. “Bucky, enough,” he quietly, but firmly stated, tugging him away. Of adamantium-armed Bucky, there was only a slight tilt of his head as he listened to the discussion from the peripherals of the small group.

“Steve, let me go,” Bucky said, then yanked his arm out of his grasp.

Steve kept his hands up though, and partially herded Bucky into the room where he, Sam, and Natasha had been going through the 2012 information brick. He closed the door behind them. It was only after Bucky heavily sat down at the table, and he took a seat next to him, that Steve noticed where exactly the 2012 brick had gone.

Natasha or Sam had shrunk it, using one of the disks. It was sitting as if a tiny toy pin of sorts on the table. Steve didn’t pick it up; the security system still apparently active, despite it’s tiny size.

Instead, he focused his attention on Bucky. “Did you ever consider that you’re being slightly childish about Michael? Throwing a temper-tantrum and all?”

Bucky’s heated glare didn’t affect him. “I’ll pretend that I did not hear you say that, Steve. Thought you were on my—on mine and Peggy’s side.”

Steve tented and folded his hands together. “I am. I always will be.”

Movement out of the frosted glass briefly drew their attention. The door to the adjacent room opened, and they both saw Michael, Belova, along with Peggy and Dottie enter. The door to the room he and Bucky were in opened, with Sam poking his head in.

“I can come back later, Steve,” Sam said, realizing that he had interrupted a much-needed conversation.

Steve nodded. Sam closed the door, and waited outside, back against the frosted glass.

“I’m not happy with how things are playing out, and what’s happened, but this is how it is, Buck,” Steve continued. “Michael surrendered to SHIELD—”

“He’s using SHIELD. Manipulating and lying—”

“He surrendered,” Steve cut in. “That takes a lot of courage—”

Bucky snorted in pure contempt, not believing him.

“—because that’s what Natasha, Sam, Wanda, and I did, when Thanos attacked. We weren’t looking for forgiveness or absolution for breaking international laws. We surrendered ourselves for a greater cause that needed our protection. Secretary Ross could have sent his goons to the compound to kill us – easily. He could have easily intercepted our bird on the way to get Vision the help he needed. But, he didn’t.”

Bucky’s expression remained unconvinced, but Steve knew that he was listening.

“Michael there,” Steve continued, pointing to the one-way window. “He lost almost everything that he had tried to make for himself – after he left us. I can’t say that I’m not entirely happy about it, but it does lessen him as a global threat when we get rid of Unit 616. But, he’s not looking for forgiveness – just like I didn’t, when I walked into that Avengers compound. He’s here to fight.”

“If you want to stand in his way, you’re free to do that, but you won’t find me there standing next to you. My priority is stopping Unit 616, sending my friends home, and closing that portal. If I have to swallow the bitter pill, roll the hard-six, and work with my enemy without compromising myself, then I’ll do so.”

Bucky looked away. “He’s gonna compromise your morals, Steve. He did it to me – all the way back in the war.”

Steve unfolded his hands and placed his left on Bucky’s shoulder. He gently squeezed it. “Michael will not do that to anyone else, least of all to you again.”

“How can you be so sure?”

The question was whispered, agonizing in the sheer pain and uncertainty that it carried. It tugged at Steve, and he wished that there was some way he could just carve that pain away so it wouldn’t keep affecting Bucky. The guilt Bucky carried for not properly vetting Michael so long ago was something that he didn’t know how to assuage.

“Because you have Peggy and me to steer you right. Like we promised each other, Buck. Forward and together, until the end of the line.”

“Forward and together,” he heard Bucky whisper, before nodding.

Bucky glanced up at him, still sitting hunched over, arms on the table. “Can’t promise anything when it comes to the Wolf Spider, Steve. But, yeah. You’re right, Unit 616 is a priority. We need to win. Whatever it takes.”

Steve squeezed his shoulder again, before letting go. He got up and opened the door, catching Sam’s attention.

“Where’s Nat and Bucky?”

“You gonna differentiate between the two of us Steve?” Bucky’s question floated past both of them.

“He’s got a point, Steve,” Sam said, giving him an amused look. “Jim or James for one—”

“Call me Jim and I’ll end you, Wilson. Painfully.”

Steve briefly glanced back and sighed in slight exasperation. “Bucky hates ‘Jim’,” he stated.

“So that’s a ‘no’ from both peanut galleries.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll ask both of them after Bucky returns. But, you still haven’t answered my question. Sam.”

“Chief Carter sent them to retrieve the ‘fialka’,” Sam answered.

Steve frowned. “What is—”

His question was lost to the sounds of the elevator dinging and its doors opening. More than a few heads in the bullpen turned to see Natasha and Bucky emerge; both carrying a black case. It was not the usual casual walk that either employed – it was the stride of the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier – one that Steve realized he had never seen before.

The dangerous fluidity, and complementary movement of two Soviet assets at their height—

Steve opened the door even more and immediately followed Sam out. He was peripherally aware that Bucky followed, as they entered the other room – just in time to see the lingering visceral reactions from everyone else within the room.

‘Frightened’ wasn’t quite the word Steve would have used, but it was close.

The cases were placed on the table, but were not pushed forward towards Michael, whom had recovered his composure. As soon as both let go, it was as if something strange flicked off between the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier.

Both instantly lost the dangerous edge to their countenance. There wasn’t time to process such a snapped change, as Natasha pushed one of the cases forward, but kept her hand on it.

“<You’re playing a dangerous game, Wolf Spider.>” she stated in Russian.

“Nat?” Steve began, taking a step forward.

Natasha abruptly let go, and shoved both cases towards Michael. The man wordlessly took it, and unlocked both, taking out the ‘fialka’ and its accessories.

“The two of you weren’t seen, were you?” Belova asked.

“If they were, they wouldn’t be whom they are in their reality. Ghosts in the intelligence community,” Michael stated. “What Department X should have been – should have produced.”

Steve heard the creak of Bucky’s hands, as they stood slightly behind Sam, Natasha, and adamantium-armed Bucky. He discreetly reached out and briefly placed his hand on Bucky’s metal one.

Peggy had approached the other side of the table to examine what looked like a cipher machine, while Dottie leaned forward on the side Michael was sitting at. Curiosity was clear in her eyes – she had never seen or used that type of cipher machine before.

When Michael set everything up and finally plugged it into electrical socket, the machine was activated. Michael picked up what looked like a microphone attached to a chord that connected into the machine, and flipped a switch.

“<One equal temper of heroic hearts, made weak by time and fate, but strong in will to strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield.>”

The switch was flipped, and the speaker placed in the original position. Michael pushed both the device and his chair back, a frank expression upon his face as he met their eyes.

“Tennyson’s Ulysses?”

Natasha’s curious question broke the silence. She had folded her arms across her chest, but her expression belayed that of her utter curiosity. Of Bucky, Steve was surprise to see two different expressions that differentiated this timeline’s Bucky and the one from his original timeline.

Bucky of this timeline, still had resentment within his eyes; posture tense, but was clearly paying attention. Bucky of Steve’s original timeline was surprisingly neutral, if not slightly pensive.

“Your Red Room didn’t have such a thing, Agent Romanov?” Michael asked.

Natasha’s glance towards adamantium-armed Bucky was quick, but noticeable. Bucky didn’t react, and Natasha simply returned her attention onto Michael. “No.”

Michael nodded, as if it were a simple, normal conversation. “Then we wait. Two days maximum for all remaining Red Room agents to code in.”

“Any later, and they are considered Unit 616 agents, regardless.”

Steve glanced at Bucky, his adamantium fingers tapping his other arm in an indiscernible pattern for a moment. He wasn’t the only one surprised by the quiet statement.

“What’s to differentiate between coding under duress and not turned?” Natasha asked. “I mean, if these are your people, they’ve already been under Unit 616’s thumb for over six months now.”

“Counterintelligence,” Peggy spoke up before Michael was able to answer.

The single nod from Michael was all that was needed to know that Peggy had guessed correctly. Steve couldn’t quite tell, but he thought he saw the barest hints of Michael’s lips twitching up in an unkind smile.

“Regardless if they’re compromised or not, you want to transform what remains of your network into a counterintelligence apparatus working with SHIELD,” Peggy continued. “Independent of everything else, what are your terms for this?”

Steve immediately reached out and placed a firm hand on Bucky’s silver-armed shoulder, before Bucky could take a step forward. He caught the full force of Bucky’s furious glare, but his friend did not say a word. Of Bucky in adamantium, there was no such need for such action; Bucky still strangely contemplative.

“Direct negotiations with SHIELD Envoy Chester Philips. All SHIELD Chiefs report to him.”

“He reports to us all, as we do, him. It’s democratic,” Peggy stated, a hint of anger in her tone.

“The debate can be shelved,” Michael dismissively stated. “Direct negotiations with Philips, that’s my current term for completing the reactivation. I am, after all, betraying yet another country I had called motherland. As is the sole remaining Black Widow.”

Steve glanced at his wife; her posture tense. This was her call, and he had no right to interfere. The relative silence within the room was palpable. Even the muffled, encrypted code of the repeated message being spat out into the world within the device didn’t disturb it.

“You have forty-eight hours, Chief Carter,” Michael stated.

~~~

Bucky watched as Peggy spun around and wordlessly left the room. He saw his counterpart yank himself out of Steve’s grip and immediately follow Peggy. Steve was hot on his counterpart’s heel.

Sam left not a second later, his sigh audible. As for Underwood, she glanced at those who remained, before she took a seat, pulling the box of folders towards her. Belova took a seat opposite of the device, and wordlessly accepted the files Underwood handed her.

Just as Bucky was about to turn and leave, Romanov spoke up, saying, “You know… Sharon’s belief that you’re somehow a good person is the only reason why you aren’t dead, Wolf Spider.”

The smile that Carter gave was unkind, biting, and hostile. Romanov was completely unruffled, and merely stared at the agent for a few seconds before leaving.

Bucky mentally shrugged it off as those eyes slid to him; the snide remark clearly on the tip of the agent’s tongue. As much as he wanted to admonish the turncoat agent for being a jerk, he settled for simply giving him a neutral look.

He knew what it was like to be on the receiving end of the world’s hatred. Knew what it was like to pick at the scab wound – to want to have a new start in life, but unable to leave the awful legacy that was tethered to him.

Bucky did not set expectations on the agent known as the Wolf Spider; the man’s legacy here different than the one he spottily remembered. But, he had hoped that perhaps the simple, silent look he gave was enough to convey to the man named Michael Carter, that he was not alone.

Then, he walked away and closed the door behind him.

* * *

Later that night, somewhere in London…

Steve quietly and carefully rolled over and lifted the covers to the bed. He felt Peggy shift as he got up, and turned to tuck the covers back around her, before leaning down to place a kiss on her shoulder through the covers.

“… Steve…?”

“Go back to sleep, Pegs,” he softly said.

Her sleepy affirmation answered, and she snuggled deeper into the covers. Steve watched as she settled, and soon, her even and deep breaths indicated she was fast asleep again.

With barely a sound, Steve stepped out of their room and closed the door. He was unable to sleep, his thoughts a whirl – foremost at the fact that a possible HYDRA resurgent in the form of Unit 616 had re-established themselves here.

This was supposed to be a new start without the shadow of HYDRA over all of them, manipulating the world. And yet, it seemed fate had other ideas.

His footsteps carried him to his drawing room; his eyes straying over to the work-in-progress mural of the entire Avengers at that battle in 2023. His restless thoughts were not settling enough for him to considering sketching anything – even new things.

Steve quietly crept down the stairs and into the kitchen. Yet, nothing within the refrigerator looked appetizing to drink or snack upon. That left only one other place that he could possibly go to, to find some peace without disturbing Peggy.

The moment he opened the back door and shuffled out into the cold London night, a slightly unexpected sight greeted him. Yet, even as Bucky raised his head up from his hunched position on the stairs of Bucky’s own home across the small ‘alleyway’ that separated their homes, Steve supposed that he shouldn’t have been as surprised as he was.

It seemed that sleep was eluding them both.

Wordlessly, Steve stepped slightly to the side and gestured towards his open door. The invitation to talk was clear, but there was a slight hesitation on Bucky’s part that Steve found puzzling.

That hesitation disappeared after a few seconds; Bucky standing up and approaching. Steve followed Bucky in, closing the door behind them. They went to the living room; the kitchen’s echo of their voices, however soft it was would definitely disturb Peggy.

Bucky took a seat on the corner of the couch, the loose-flowing drawstring trousers and shirt he wore to sleep slightly odd-looking in Steve’s opinion. He knew from their time sharing an apartment that Bucky absolutely hated sleeping with clothes on, but it was more than likely for the sake of the guests currently housed in Bucky’s home that Bucky wore something to sleep.

Steve sat, arms spread out behind him and resting on the edge of the couch’s back. He would have looped it around Bucky, but wasn’t certain that even after they had reconciled on what had happened just before being called into SHIELD days ago, he’d be allowed.

“How are your guests?” he quietly asked.

Sam, Natasha, and his original timeline’s Bucky had insisted on not intruding upon his and Peggy’s home – even though both he and Peggy had stated they were fine. Strangely enough, it had been both Bucky and their strange mirroring of actions – namely the rather insistent action of just simply going home, that made the decision.

Still, Steve knew how much linens were at Bucky’s home, and thus had brought extras – along with some spare clothing for at least Natasha and Sam to change into. It was looking more and more like a long-duration stay for the three; clothing, supplies, and even pocket change for the three were needed.

A place to store and repair Natasha’s quinjet was also needed, but that was a logistical thing that Steve knew had to be dealt with later. Steve didn’t even think that they had the technology – even if with 0-8-4s to repair her quinjet here.

As much as Steve wanted to remain and continue to help his friends and his wife, SHIELD had not officially authorized his participation any further. His help on the parsing and analysis of the 2012 information brick was also limited. Captain America seen entering and exiting a SHIELD building constantly was sure to draw attention, and perhaps stoke more fear.

The argument could be made that it could inspire, but with Unit 616 already at an advantage, Steve was certain that they would try to tarnish and upend any attempts. Not only was it now an informational war of truths and falsities, it was also fast becoming a propaganda war.

“Sleeping, hopefully,” Bucky answered, just as quietly; voice bringing Steve back to the present.

“And… whatever it is that’s happening between you and your counterpart?” he carefully asked.

“Quiet for now,” Bucky said, glancing down at his hands, expression hesitant. “I saw… I caught a glimpse of his memories, Steve. The results or collateral damage of his first mission, I think, as the Winter Soldier. It was awful.”

Steve immediately moved closer, bringing his left arm off the edge of the couch and enveloped Bucky. He didn’t know what or whom were the collateral damage from Bucky’s first mission as a Soviet asset, the reports clinical and to the point. But, it didn’t mean that he cared less about him – either of them.

Bucky leaned into him, partially turning to bury his face against his chest. However, Bucky did not continue to speak.

“That’s not you, Buck,” Steve softly but firmly insisted. “That was and is not either of you.”

~~~

It was not easy to break into SHIELD-Europe.

Bucky was rather impressed with the security system, and the amount of security personnel and their vigilance. However Steve, or even his counterpart had probably advised on security measures, neither had the experiences that he had.

His memory was Swiss cheese at best, flotsam at worst, but breaking and entering was a skill he had had since childhood. It was muscle memory for him to evade detection – even more so with how HYDRA had exploited it.

Of course, that didn’t stop him from using a tiny amount of 2020s technology to aid him in briefly putting a static image in front of the security camera

When he entered the secured cell areas, he was not surprise to see that Belova had been completely separated from Carter. The two were not even in the same cell row, much less area. He was not here for Belova though, the stool situated in the corner of two adjacent halls up and down the cell block more than likely used for brief visits.

The moment he dragged the stool over and set it down in front of Carter, it startled the man. It was clear that Carter didn’t know his footsteps, and his appearance was unexpected. Bucky ignored the reaction and simply sat down.

“You could cross over, once we take control of the portal. Permanently.”

At the same time he had stated the suggestion, Bucky signaled in Red Room code: [What are the plans for the contaminated assets?]

Carter was unable to contain his surprise, clearly able to read the short hand signals. Just the reaction was enough for Bucky to confirm that this Department X or Red Room that Carter established was similar enough. It meant that the Spetsnaz he encountered in London had some exposure and hasty, incomplete training.

Yet, that surprise only lasted a split second. He saw him signal: [You are different. Unexpectedly.]

“Why?” Wariness was plainly written upon Carter, covering that surprise.

Bucky shrugged. “Everyone wants a fresh start.”

[My information was told. Yours and Black Widow told. Plans, Wolf Spider. Contamination is clear with the assets.]

There was no Red Room signal for ‘story’, thus Bucky had to substitute it for something similar. Long conversations were definitely not meant for such hand signals; only the swiftness of passing along information, warnings, or even targets and assets from one agent to another.

He then shifted slightly, briefly folding his hands together, as he glanced down. Then he looked up again, the keen sharpness within Carter’s eyes had not died.

“You’re dead in my reality.”

Carter did not answer the signal, giving no sign that he was struggling to maintain a clear, concise conversation to cover the Red Room signals exchange.

“I know,” Carter stated. “Your embellished biographical recount by Captain America in the hangar earlier was quite the Hollywood tale.”

Bucky ignored the jibe; Carter clearly trying to pigeon-hole himself with his other self here. The man clearly had not seen the 2012 information brick that Steve absconded with when he returned the Infinity Stones to New York City in 2012. This Michael Carter didn’t even truly know what his own counterpart had done as a member of the Winter Guard

“I’m not your enemy, Carter. I don’t know you.”

You don’t know me; the monster that is the Winter Soldier.

[Plans.] he signaled at the same time.

Carter sneered, either seemingly ignoring the signal, or unwilling to divulge. “You both have enough common memories.”

Carter then withdrew and crossed his arms over his chest.

Bucky sat up straight, mirroring Carter’s posture, but did not cross his arms over his chest. “If you want to crossover, there’s only four of us who would know that you’re alive. Apart from your niece, I don’t believe that Sam or Romanov, or even I would even be bothered with you, or your new life there. You’re free to just slip away.”

“That’s it? Romanov knows what I did.”

“What quarrel you and she have is of no concern to me,” he stated. “However, because she is Sam’s friend, and Sam is my friend, if you decide to stupidly throw your second chance away, call it a professional courtesy that this is your only warning. Don’t.”

Carter curled his lips back in distaste. “I don’t see a difference between the two of you.”

“I know what it’s like, to lose everything—”

“Don’t give me that bullshit—” Carter interrupted, disgusted.

“—because nearly every single defector to the West eventually fell under my scope, my bullet,” Bucky stated over Carter’s protests. “Your deal that you want to cut with Philips will protect you for a while, but once the dust settles, once Unit 616 is ousted and wiped clear, someone will be coming for you. Traitors aren’t tolerated on either side, and from what Romanov told me – you’ve been dancing between both.”

Carter unfolded his arms, and folded his hands together, the movement small and unobtrusive, compared to the doubtful, “Why? Why are you doing this?”

~~~

Elsewhere in London…

The murmurs of her husband and her husband’s best friend talking in the living room were soothing, as they were a reflection of the toll taken upon them these past few days. Steve gently stroking Bucky’s back, another reflection of the dynamics that governed her marriage to Steve, and her husband’s close relationship to Bucky.

Peggy knew Steve meant well to not talk in the kitchen, the echo brought upon by how it was built, would have woken her up much earlier. She had woken up as soon as she heard the back door close. Yet, Steve had not been sitting out on the small steps that led to the ‘alleyway’, as Peggy had found he was wont to do whenever unable to sleep.

Instead, she quietly got up and observed Steve and Bucky in the living room. Their conversation washing over her with no judgment or opinion from her. What was happening to all of them was more difficult than anything she could fathom. They needed to be strong, but that strength could not be a hollow one – a facade easily shattered.

“Peggy?”

Peggy was not surprised that Steve had either heard or seen her. She had made little effort to conceal her descent upon the stairs, hoping that if Steve and Bucky had fallen asleep on the couch, she would just drape a blanket over both of them to ward off any chill.

She peered out, and saw Steve silently wave her over. Bucky still looked awake, but his eyes were on her. Peggy recalled hers and Bucky’s conversation about what happened the night before Bucky was pulled from leave. That night where it had started with the completion of a long ago sketch by Steve, on Bucky as the subject and—

Peggy mentally shook her head. She had accepted it, made her peace, and forgave both of them. This was their now; her eyes wide open, agency her own, and willing.

The floor was cold against her bare feet, but she padded over to where the lone spare blanket remained. The rest had been delivered to Bucky’s home to help him accommodate their three additional guests.

She brought it over to the couch and unfurled it to cover the three of them as best as possible. Sitting and tucking herself on the other side of her husband, Peggy felt Steve wrap his warm arm around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder and chest.

It was like and unlike the first time the three of them had done this; the circumstances wholly different, yet not. But, for what hours were left of tonight, Peggy found comfort and a shore to beach her troubling thoughts.

~~~

SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

Bucky glanced down at his hands folded together. Though the cameras were recording a static image, he was fairly certain that there was something recording audio. The barely discernible difference in frequencies was a slightly dissonant hum in his ear.

“It may not have been me who killed all of those people as a tool of the Soviets and HYDRA, but it was still me.”

“Atonement.”

The lack of contempt in Carter’s tone was of slight surprise to Bucky. He looked up, only to see a truly neutral look upon the man’s expression. Bucky was not the biggest fan of therapy – his court-ordered therapist more annoying than helpful, in his opinion – but he wasn’t going to deny that it finally looked as if Carter was listening.

“Two wrongs doesn’t make a right, Carter. That includes what I indirectly did to the Winter Guard when I carried out that mission to steal the recreated formula from Howard Stark.”

Carter remained silent.

Bucky continued, “You’re right to feel betrayed – justified even. But then why did you truly surrender?”

Unexpectedly, Bucky saw the signal, Carter not even bothering to cover it with dialogue: [Plan requires permit. Clear hidden assets first. Maintain direct feedback to contaminated assets. Rebuild.]

Inwardly, Bucky frowned – not because Carter hadn’t covered it up, as it looked more like he was fiddling with his thumbs, but because of what exactly Carter was doing with what remained of the Red Room network. Bucky wasn’t well-versed in counterintelligence techniques, but he had a general idea of what it entailed.

Carter wanted to maintain the links – not just truly as a counterintelligence network, but a cleaned and cleared network with known, allied assets masquerading as Unit 616 agents, and known double-agents. It was a dangerous balance, considering that Unit 616 was more than likely employing different techniques learned from failures in the other reality and timeline.

“Tell me, did any of your handlers in that timeline ever tell you why people defected, regardless to the East or West?”

Bucky glanced up, thoughts troubling, but strangely clear. The plain look he gave Carter was accepted with a nod. Then, he saw the signal, indicating that Carter was still waiting for an answer to the actual question and not the spoken one.

[Winter Soldier?]

As much as he wanted to signal that he was no longer the Winter Soldier – that the title belonged to his counterpart here – he hesitated. It was not the name he wanted to be associated with, but in this murky war in the shadows against a possible resurgent HYDRA, perhaps the past could not be fully put to rest yet.

Perhaps the unpredictable needed to be countered with a mask of predictability, in order to truly hide the end goal. The past was not his present, but it was still him – and now, his choice.

[Ready to comply.]

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: Doctor/Доктор

“All right, so the first record of you SSR folks encountering this ring that Ivchenko used was in Kronas, August 1944, correct?” Sam asked, jotting it down on the paper timeline they were putting together.

“Yeah,” Steve answered.

He briefly glanced over to see Bucky and Natasha at the other end of the table, pouring through the 2012 information brick. Sharon’s reports were projected on a separate device that Natasha had yanked off her quinjet before shrinking the aircraft. The reports were circling in a slow, small orbit above the table.

Bucky was reading over the more ‘modern’ reports downloaded into the brick – 90’s and onward. Both Natasha and Steve himself refused to let Bucky read through the reports from the Soviet, or Soviet-allied side of things.

The information on the ‘modern’ area was limited – due to it primarily containing information on the various Soviet-HYDRA assets, rather than all of what was dumped on to the internet. Most of it was on incident reports attributed kills by a few SHIELD or hidden HYDRA personnel sanctioned for action, and the Winter Soldier in modern times. All seemed incredibly clinical and dry – according to the many times Steve saw Bucky blink to keep his eyes open.

Natasha currently looked to be scrubbing through mission reports from SHIELD during the 70’s and 80’s, her expression neutral at times. Steve occasionally saw her furrow her eyebrows as she read over one thing or another.

Steve had offered to take her place in combing through the files, as it seemed to him that she had some unpleasant memories of those two decades. However, she had refused, and returned to her work.

Sam was helping him establish a timeline to confirm – information from Dottie and Belova’s scrub of SSR files helping, along with their own memories – of when Ivchenko entered Soviet service. Both he and Sam were also attempting to lay out unexpected potential strategies and tactics to counter Unit 616’s technological advantage at the portal.

As for Bucky with the adamantium arm, he was currently in the Engineering labs; the mess from yesterday cleaned up properly. Steve had sat both timeline versions down after breakfast, and asked if they had any specific preferences to differentiate between each other. Apart from Natasha’s distinct address of ‘Barnes’ for Bucky of his original timeline, and ‘James’ for Bucky in this timeline, neither had given Steve any strong or definitive preferences.

Then, silver-armed Bucky had suggested simply using call signs: ‘Winter Soldier’ for himself, ‘White Wolf’ for his counterpart. Steve realized that the two had talked it over, though the ‘when’ of it was unknown to him. He wasn’t keen on calling them either of that; had found that using call signs outside of a combat situation impersonal and cold.

To his surprise, Bucky of the other timeline had then told him that neither of them liked being called ‘James’ – especially if it was going to be him, Steve, calling either of them that name. Natasha’s use of their given name was only tolerated, because it was what Natasha was comfortable with – her own memories of her time serving the Soviet regime affecting it.

Steve learned that they associated ‘James’ with their father – and all horrific memories that came with it. Appalled, Steve had apologized, but it had been strangely waved away by both – their actions mirroring each other to the point of eeriness.

It had been Bucky of this timeline who then suggested that if there was something specific needed from either of them if they were in the same room, then it was better to just tack on the year, era, or rank – Agent or Sergeant. It was what the two of them had settled with.

Steve agreed, and vowed to respect both of their wishes.

At present, it was the faint ding of the ‘fialka’ machine – the third time in the last ten minutes – that shook Steve from his musings. Ever since he and the others had entered SHIELD this morning, the machine had been pinging more often than not; at least a few sheets of punched paper already piling on the side of the machine.

“That’s a lot of places in this Red Room network,” Sam murmured.

Steve noticed his eyes were on the machine across the one-way mirrored glass. Of Belova and Dottie, still sitting in the room and going through files, neither looked to be perturbed by the constant noise. Steve had asked about requisitioning some headsets for the two to block out the noise; the logistics officer had not yet returned an answer.

Of Michael, he was currently in Peggy’s office; both Peggy and Lorraine present to listen to his negotiations with Philips. Whatever demands it was to be, Steve hoped that there would be some semblance of trust; that they could come to an agreement.

“Steve.”

Both Steve and Sam looked down the table and got up; Bucky had found something. Without another word, Bucky projected it up onto the center of the table for all of them to see. It looked to be about some general activities in the Middle East during the late 2000s. About two-thirds down in the report, was where Bucky had highlighted:

2008-01-04: Black Widow dispatched by SHIELD Director Nicholas J. Fury and rescued Subject-451. Subject-451’s conditioning incomplete, due to lack of time to fully implement the ‘Faustus Method’. (Must find even faster way to implement – length of time at six months unacceptable in this day and age! We are not living in the 70’s anymore!) The Asset was deployed to kill Subject-451 – confirmed kill. Confirm Black Widow wounded by the Asset. (Bitch should have died with Dreykov in Budapest.)

Apart from the scribbled comments that looked to either have been made by an electronic note-taking system using a stylus, or the report scanned with the actual scribbles, the content was small. It was not quite a confirmation, but the fact that ‘Faustus Method’ was mentioned made Steve concerned.

“Do you remember anything about this mission, Nat?” Steve asked.

The door to the room opened before Natasha answered, bringing in the noise of the busy bullpen. Bucky of the other timeline entered, carrying his Wakandan-made vibranium arm, and whatever had pierced it.

A frown was instantly upon his expression the moment he laid eyes on the projected report. The door closed behind him, cutting off the buzz of the bullpen from the room.

“Maybe…” Natasha began, eyebrows furrowing slightly. “If this ‘Asset’ listed in the report is the Winter Soldier, then apart from 2014, 2008 is the only time we crossed paths while I was in SHIELD. Where I was shot through while protecting my mission, the Iranian scientist.”

“Sorry,” Steve heard the soft apology from adamantium-armed Bucky to Natasha.

“Wasn’t you Barnes,” Natasha stated, before refocusing her attention on the report. “But, in terms of behavior, I don’t recall the scientist behaving oddly. Mumbly and incoherent, yes, but I chalked it up to fear – we were being pursued.”

Steve nodded. He poked the hardlight projection, and highlighted ‘Faustus Method’.

“Given the wording, this ‘Faustus Method’ may have some links back to Sharon’s ‘Dr. Faustus’,” he theorized.

He reached over to page over the hardlight projections of Sharon’s files again, but the small morsel of information Bucky discovered did not provide any further clues when cross-checked.

“Creator, more than likely,” Sam followed up. “Since at least the 70’s then.”

“Well, that kind of narrows down my search,” Natasha said, swiping her fingers over the projections on her side of the files to clear a few things.

“I’m concerned about this length of time though,” Sam stated. “Six months. Sounds like it used to take longer, and considering where the person was, in a more isolated area.”

“Sounds like a repeated effort of that White Alice site in Alaska,” Bucky, silver-armed, quietly spoke up.

If there were any further discussions or comments, none were made. The silence that fell in the room was uncertain and slightly uncomfortable. Steve could only imagine what Bucky – either of them were going through with even just the smallest of information found.

“Looks like you’ve got that thing freed from your arm, Buck,” Steve turned his attention to the other Bucky.

“Yeah, and more bad news comes with it,” he heard him answer, placing the Wakandan-made arm down on the table.

Steve saw him carefully place the spherical, spiked object on the table. Sam immediately moved out of the way the moment the object started to move towards the shields leaning against the wall behind Sam. It’s unexpected movement was arrested when Bucky grabbed it with his adamantium arm.

“Well, that confirms my theory,” Bucky stated, hand still curled around the object. “The thing is attracted to vibranium, regardless of active power source or not.”

“What is it?” Sam asked, eyeing Bucky’s curled fist with some trepidation.

“Not sure, but it’s alloy – at least on the coating – matches Thanos’ sword. Strong enough to piece vibranium. I think one of Daredevil’s enemies may have thrown it – a guy named Poindexter, or something.”

“Wait, Daredevil? You know that dude?” Sam questioned.

“Daredevil?” Steve questioned at the same time, recalling that one of his and Bucky’s trips across realities had them encountering a blind lawyer known as Daredevil.

“Same guy like that other reality one, Steve,” Bucky confirmed. “And yeah, Sam. Hell’s Kitchen is an okay area, but still not a place I’d personally like to live in.”

“Then why just your arm, Barnes?” Natasha spoke up. “If Bullseye has that kind of accuracy, then he should have gone for Steve – easily. Vibranium armor and shield.”

Bucky shook his head – he had no explanation yet.

“So we have a problem with not just the shields, but vibranium armor then,” silver-armed Bucky stated. “Stark created armors for Peggy and myself. The three of us can’t wear them, if there’s this kind of weapon out there that can short out whatever powers your arm, or pierce armor.”

Bucky, adamantium-armed, sighed. “There might be a solution, but I’m not sure if its going to work. I have an extra sample of adamantium with me, but it’s not a lot. Smelting and then coating armors and shields might be possible, but it would be a very fine coat. I don’t know if it will be enough to prevent whatever this—” he held up his closed fist “—is from piercing them.”

“Prioritize your counterpart’s arm, Bucky,” Sam answered. “We can deal with the lack of vibranium protecting us.”

Steve met Sam’s look, and nodded in agreement. Bucky here and now didn’t have access to Wakandan technology; his silver arm grafted directed onto his body. If the vibranium-piercing weapon did exist in more numbers, then they could not have Bucky lose function of his arm.

“Thanks…” Bucky, silver-armed, said, grimacing slightly with uncertainty.

“I’ve got something,” Natasha suddenly cut in.

The 2008 report was put to the side; an older, clearly scanned in report centered on the projection. The date at the top indicated it was a series of notes from some scientist’s tests from the 1970’s. But it was the highlighted area that made Steve see red.

26-03-1972: First attempt of the ‘Faustus Method’ on subject (Subject-55) without the aid of the ring. Before he died, Johann (note: cross-ref previous name of V.I.) said that it took him and that madman Zola over a year with the damn ring and their chemical cocktails to condition the Winter Soldier to readiness (Johann said that it does not include any time when the Winter Soldier was on ice.) And then they still had to use that electric chair to scrub his brain clean – and those command and control words – after wake up. Apparently, most of it had been based on Johann’s practice of different methods on the asset named Wolf Spider – which took nearly three years during WWII and post.

It is clear that the ring makes those ‘fully’ conditioned unstable. (The amount of chemical stabilization shit we have to inject into the Wolf Spider each time we need to send the Guard out is ridiculous!) The Doctor has ordered us to find a better, more efficient method. Instability is detrimental to the goals of our noble cause. The lengths of times for conditioning – with or without the ring – are also not acceptable to the Doctor.

With Zola now in those new-fangled ‘computers’ that SHIELD requisitioned, it is more imperative that we should strive to keep the rest of them from knowing. Let them have their wars, their deadly assets of the Winter Soldier, Black Widows, and Winter Guard. In return, we shall have the world fear itself.

“Smoking gun?” Steve said, breaking the silence after a few long minutes, while glancing at the others in the room. How he managed to keep his tone calm and controlled in the face of the horrifying blurb was something he didn’t know.

The ‘fialka’ machine in the other room beeped again, spitting out another contact reply.

“Looks like,” silver-armed Bucky answered.

Both timeline’s Bucky had eerily stoic expressions, giving away nothing of what they thought about, with regards to the scanned report on the projection.

“V. I.?” Sam questioned.

“Ivchenko, possibly,” Natasha began. “Johann might have been his ‘new’ name if he was brought in under Operation Paperclip similar to Zola. Who’s this ‘Doctor’ though?”

“I’m going to bring in Agent Underwood and Operative Belova,” Sam stated. “Considering one or both have worked with that man, I think they need to see this.”

Steve nodded in agreement. As Sam got up and left, he glanced up at adamantium-armed Bucky, still standing in the corner of the room with his eyes on the projected report. Those oceanic-colored eyes briefly flicked down at him, before Bucky silently shook his head. Steve was unable to interpret it; Bucky’s body language a complete mystery.

Steve turned to look at silver-armed Bucky, his Bucky of this timeline. There was a slightly less mysteriously blank expression on his face – but it was a withdrawn look. Steve could reasonably guess that it was mostly the handwritten notes in between typed lines, and on the margin of the official report that was affecting him.

“You two don’t have to stay,” Steve gently suggested.

“I leave now, I’m going to kill that son-of-a-bitch – regardless of jurisdiction rights, Steve,” Bucky spat out.

“Not if I get to him first,” the other Bucky rumbled from his corner.

The door opened, shelving the morbid debate. Dottie and Belova entered, Sam following as he closed the door behind. Both stared at the hardlight projection, eyes moving ever so slightly back and forth as they read through it.

“Victor Ivchenko,” Dottie spoke up. Belova silently nodded in agreement.

“I don’t quite understand the last portion though,” Dottie began, frowning.

“And who is this ‘Doctor’?” Belova questioned, mirroring Natasha’s concern as well.

“We don’t know,” Natasha answered Belova’s question first. “As for the last portion, Zola was given a terminal diagnosis in 1972. His brain was transferred to many reams of magnetic tape that made up a ‘computer’.”

Movement out of the frosted glass, and the door opening once again drew the attention of those within the room. It was getting slightly crowded, but there was still room to move around. Michael, with a considerably less hostile countenance upon him entered first, followed by Peggy. It was clear that both had realized that everyone else was in this room, and thus joined them.

The ‘fialka’ machine’s beep broke the sudden tension that filled the room. Steve saw Michael glance towards the one-way mirror. Michael’s jaw tightened ever so imperceptibly, before he returned his attention onto the hardlight projection.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, wary the moment Michael turned to leave the room.

“Gulags were too kind for him,” came the biting answer.

“Get in line, Carter. We still don’t know why your niece wants him alive.”

Steve blinked slightly in surprise, eyes focusing on adamantium-armed Bucky who had said that. “Ivchenko is this ‘Doctor Faustus’, but we got another problem. This other ‘Doctor’.”

“Not Zola then,” Dottie began, frowning slightly. “Then why didn’t SHIELD, or HYDRA also put Ivchenko’s brain into these so-called magnetic tapes?”

“Considering the size of SHIELD underground at Camp Lehigh,” Natasha speculated. “I’d have to say that transferring Zola took up a lot of space and power. My guess is that they had to chose one, and Ivchenko got the short straw.”

“But he still managed to pass on his knowledge and methods to this ‘Doctor’,” Sam spoke up, shifting himself away from the door to take his seat again.

Michael did not approach the door again, and also took a seat at the table. Peggy slipped into the seat between Steve and Michael. Of Belova, she took the seat between Sam and Michael, while Dottie remained standing – on the opposite corner of where Bucky with the adamantium-arm, stood.

“Leopold Fitz in that other reality,” adamantium-armed Bucky said. “He was known as ‘the Doctor’ in that weird fake world controlled by HYDRA.”

“His persona in there was more concerned with creating a super-soldier serum than anything else,” Steve said, remembering just how uncomfortable it had been – even in a virtual world. “But, it is a point in consideration to take.”

There were more than a few confused look, especially with the mention of the ‘fake world’, but Steve was not going to elaborate. That reality may have had parallels to the current situation here with Unit 616, but the fact that no virtual simulation world existed to aid in indoctrination was one of the major differences that separated the two.

“Fitz wasn’t born until the 80’s,” Natasha stated, bringing up Fitz’s SHIELD profile on hardlight. “But, he got into this database because of his thesis on Erskine’s super-soldier formula at SHIELD Academy.”

Steve heard her hum, a slightly unusual sound as she was not prone to doing such a thing – even when brainstorming in Avengers’ plans for action. “You didn’t run into any person that gave you weird vibes while in 1970 to get the Tesseract, did you Steve?”

Steve shook his head. “Indirect contact with Dr. Pym only. I think Tony ran into his father for the most part.”

Several other profiles popped up on the hardlight – Zola along with Howard’s profiles as well. Even Alex’s profile was placed next to the others – six people in total, one of them a woman. Ivchenko did not have a profile listed.

Arnim Zola, Howard Stark, Melina Vostokoff, Alexander Carter, Damian Young, Marek Zara

“I thought you said that this information brick doesn’t contain SHIELD personnel profiles, Barnes,” Dottie said.

“It shouldn’t,” Bucky answered, frowning. “I was told it only contained HYDRA profiles.”

“Basic search for those who worked on the various attempts to recreate the super-soldier serum in SHIELD,” Natasha explained. “Not a full profiles of SHIELD members, but more than likely peripherals that have had association – benign or not. The ones you see up here are listed under the assumption that this ‘Doctor’ is indeed some kind of doctor – medical or not.”

“From the notes, it seems that this ‘Doctor’ did not share either ideological or philosophical agreements with Zola,” Belova said. “I would remove him from this list.”

“Done.” Natasha pointed to the woman on the hardlight projection, “Melina Vostokoff was born in 1970. She was pulled from the Widow Program at age 16 and sent to work with Maxim Dreykov. She worked with him on other projects past the fall of the Soviet regime, until Dreykov’s death in 2017. I think we can also safely eliminate her from the bunch.”

“She’s still alive in our world?” Sam questioned.

“Yes.” Natasha’s expression was closed. “I trust her.”

Those were three rare words from Natasha. The fact that she uttered it in a room full of professionals in the espionage trade made Steve even more accepting of her conviction with regards to Melina Vostokoff. He glanced over to see Sam nod, more than likely realizing the weight of her words.

“Howard’s still on that list,” Bucky, silver-armed, stated, rubbing his chin for a moment. “Natalia and I found out that he worked with Zola on the recreation of the serum in 1970.”

“With Alex Carter as well,” Natasha said. “He was newly minted as SHIELD CMO a few months before we arrived.”

“Wait,” Sam spoke up. “Didn’t you say that he born in 1948? CMO of SHIELD that young?”

“Some kind of 0-8-4 or something. Genius intellect or beyond,” Natasha said, glancing at Bucky, silver-armed. Bucky shrugged.

“Regardless,” Natasha continued, “if we take the two-pronged approach of HYDRA wanting to not just recreate the super-soldier serum, but also psychologicalcontrol, we can possibly eliminate a couple of candidates. Then, we take what’s left, search the details of their profiles, compare it to Sharon’s notes, and see if there are any notable activities in the time frame from 1972 on back when they served in SHIELD.”

“Let’s see it,” Peggy answered.

Whatever parameters Natasha input into the information brick was unknown to Steve, but it was clear that she knew how to use it a lot better than anyone who had browsed through it before – himself and Bucky included. The information brick was not large enough to contain something similar to the usual SHIELD search algorithms, but it had more than likely something that matched keywords.

Howard’s profile was removed, as was the profile of another man named Marek Zara. Steve wasn’t the only one to frown – Alex’s name remained on the screen. The other one was a man named Damian Young.

“Your Alex Carter here does not look his age,” Belova began.

“He fell through a 0-8-4 portal to another reality, and returned recently,” Steve stated. “He grew up in the reality that Nat, Bucky, and I briefly traveled to in the other timeline.”

“Steve.”

Steve looked over to where Bucky, adamantium-armed, stood, eyes still on the screen. It was not his name that made unease prickle within him, but the fact that there was a heavy undercurrent of hesitancy in Bucky’s tone.

“The more I think about it, the more I don’t believe there was a Dr. Alex Carter in that reality. Dr. Campbell was the only active SHIELD doctor in that reality. The other one, he or she retired – possibly died. Given what my counterpart here told me about you cross-correlating events, especially with that Cosmic Cube shit – I think this Alex Carter here is either lying, or he’s hiding something.”

It was a metaphorical slap in the face – at least that’s how it felt to Steve. Yet, he knew that dismissing Bucky’s instincts – either one of them – could not be done. Bucky, his Bucky here, had had similar doubts; Steve had hoped that it had been assuaged. However, if Bucky of his old timeline was now saying something similar – Steve knew he could not chalk it up to coincidence.

But even, as Peggy’s frown grew more pronounced, Michael’s expression had become pensive, and Sam looked to intervene in what looked like a verbal fight about to break out, three files immediately flashed up onto the projection. The three files were dated [1989-06-13], but looked to be typed up by different people. Only one had the SHIELD logo, and was addressed to Peggy in her capacity as Director of SHIELD.

“SHIELD CMO, Dr. Carter died this day,” Natasha bluntly stated, cutting into the thick tension within the room. “Doesn’t seem as black and white to just remove him from the list, though.”

Steve briefly read over the report on the left, the one addressed to Peggy. It was more of a short memo than anything else – and written in such an impersonal, almost robotic way that Steve couldn’t help but grimace slightly in distaste.

“Geez, did SHIELD or HYDRA employ robots back then?” Sam muttered, having more than likely read the same memo first.

Steve turned his attention onto the second report in the center; more detailed and written with not just a lot of side notes, but crossed out ones as well. The handwriting looked to be hasty, the script messy and choppy.

“Wolf Spider in our reality got a new alias, didn’t he? Michael Walker?” Sam asked, glancing at both adamantium-armed Bucky, and Natasha.

“Yes,” Natasha confirmed. It didn’t escape Steve’s notice that Bucky of his original timeline did not answer.

Nothing else was said, as Steve continued to read through the report, trying to parse out hasty notes from the actual report. It looked as if the Wolf Spider had been sent on an individual mission unaffiliated with what he typically did as a member of the Winter Guard.

That mission had been to apparently retrieve Alex and bring him across Soviet lines early. It had primarily due to some intelligence that SHIELD – HYDRA – had picked up, but had not informed SHIELD or the US government about. It supported Sharon’s explanation of what she had found about her father and his want to defect.

What Steve found slightly odd was the fact that it seemed that for this particular mission, the Wolf Spider had some agency. He found it peculiar that the reason why the two were in the car when the ‘accident’ happened was because they were going to pick Sharon up from school. Or at least that was what the report stated.

Then the report detailed the probable cause of the accident based on limited recall by the Wolf Spider, and forensics. Namely that the bullet that hit Alex non-fatally, but made him lose control of the car. Alex had sent the car careening over the Palisades and into the Hudson River. HYDRA had managed to get there before US authorities and replaced the unconscious Wolf Spider with a body double. Their control of the investigation thereafter allowed them to trace the lone bullet to a known, code-named operative working within the US government.

Even more tellingly, the report reaffirmed that the Winter Soldier was no where near New York. The scribble after it was more than likely made by someone else, asking if the Winter Soldier was on ice. A confirmation of ‘Yes.’ answered it.

However, the third and final report gave Steve some pause. There was absolutely no scribbles on the report – it was very clinical in the recall of events. The first part of it was the same as the HYDRA report with the scribbles, except that it began to deviate as soon as the car hit the water.

Steve couldn’t make heads of tails, but it seemed as if Alex had survived the plunge into the water, and was replaced with a body double – before HYDRA even got to the site. It would have been absurd, had the report not gone on and detailed what Sharon had stated about the forced cover up HYDRA had performed.

Someone had discovered the duplicity incredibly quickly, either through this unmarked report or elsewhere. But, the final sentences in the report summarily stated that the Wolf Spider had not died from his injuries. Additionally, the ploy to blame the Winter Soldier for the sanctioned hit had hit a snag – the agent they had sent to get his prints had been killed by the remainder of the Winter Guard. Retaliatory action was being taken among HYDRA’s ranks.

HYDRA-within-SHIELD themselves were instituting a tight security rotation around Peggy for the remainder of her tenure. An explicit order for no sanctioned or unsanctioned kill on Peggy was typed into the report; written seemingly for subordinates who read the report to obey without question. Additionally, access to the Black Widow, the Winter Soldier, and the Winter Guard were completely revoked and placed into hands unknown.

“All right, anyone else feel insanely queasy after reading those?” Sam broke the silence within the room.

Sam wasn’t the only one to raise his hand, Natasha did as well, as did both Bucky. Steve joined them. It wasn’t long until everyone, including Michael himself, also raised their hand.

“Doc Carter in your reality isn’t alive is he?” silver-armed Bucky asked.

Steve saw Natasha, adamantium-armed Bucky, and Sam shake their heads.

“Not sure, but he’d be an old man right now,” Natasha suggested.

“The Palisades run from about 60 to about 165 meters in height,” adamantium-armed Bucky stated. “Kind of hard to survive that drop in a metal death trap.”

“I don’t think either of those reports are lying though, Barnes,” Natasha mused. “Dr. Strange survived his accident.”

“But it’s still not definitive that your reality’s Dr. Carter is this ‘Doctor’,” Steve intervened before it looked as if Bucky and Natasha got into a minor argument. “Nor is it indicative that ours may be the same.”

“Innocent until proven guilty?” Michael unexpectedly stated. “Really, we’re going to go through this farce again?”

“Hey, all right. Enough,” Sam interrupted, the force of his glare at everyone around the room quite impressive. “We’re not here to shake hands and sing ‘kumbaya’. We’re in a truce and mutual agreement to help each other – enemy of my enemy and all that.”

“We got a semi-functional timeline established. Probably not a full smoking gun on the leadership of Unit 616, but at least we know they like to follow Dr. Ivchenko’s trail. We got a few more leads to check, before we can start devising possible countermeasures.”

“Now, what’s this other dude’s name? Damian Young?” Sam asked, turning his attention onto Natasha.

Natasha shoved the reports to the side, piling it with the 2008 report to bring back the remaining profiles. She highlighted it to expand it to show in full. Though at least five years older than Alex, the service record date was the same start year as Alex, but his retirement happened only five years later, due to accidental exposure to a 0-8-4.

Steve noted that Damian Young had done a lot bio-chemical work. Yet, any comments on what was listed in the profile was not said, as the silence was broken by the knock on the door. Lorraine poked her head in.

“Chief, Alex called on the secured line. They’ve moved Agent Carter to the Lady Mary Ward in St. Stephen’s Hospital. She’s in critical but stable condition—”

“Critical but stable, what the hell does that even mean?” Michael interrupted.

“—he says that small groups of visitors are permitted,” Lorraine continued as if she had not been rudely interrupted.

“Thank you, Meredith,” Peggy said. “There was something else?”

“Chief Thompson called to say that they’ve received the extradition papers from the US government. He would like to schedule a coordination and logistics meeting for Dr. Ivchenko’s transport, tomorrow at 13:00 local, ma’am.”

“Are we really just going to let him go?” Bucky, silver-armed spoke up, alarmed. “After all the fucking shit he’s done, we’re just going to let the Feds waltz in and take him?”

“Understood, and thank you for the information, Meredith,” Peggy said, briefly ignoring Bucky’s outburst.

Steve noticed that it was not just Bucky who looked to have doubts on the jurisdiction rights of the US government on Ivechenko. He expected both Bucky to have similar reactions, as well as Michael. What he didn’t expect were Natasha and Sam to look worried as well.

“I’ll find some way to stall, Agent Barnes,” Peggy stated. “Please have an objective report with all findings on Ivchenko from today, on my desk by midnight.”

Steve saw him briefly clench his jaw before saying, “Yes, ma’am.”

Peggy glanced around the table. “As for Agent Carter, I’ll permit the two of you—” she gestured to Michael and Belova “—to visit for the next hour, providing that Steve goes with you.”

Whether it was because of whatever negotiations Michael had held with Philips was a success or otherwise, Steve was slightly surprised at the silent nod that Michael gave. Belova gave her director a look before she took nodded.

“Chief Carter, I’d like to go with them,” Natasha spoke up.

“As Mr. Wilson said, it’s still conjecture, that Alex of your reality is ‘the Doctor’,” Peggy said, shaking her head. “Alex here and now was checked and verified to be the same young boy lost, and now returned.”

“I wasn’t accusing or assuming anything, ma’am,” Natasha defended. “Sharon is a friend of mine… well, Sam and myself. I’d like to make sure that even in her current condition, she knows that we’re here to bring her home.”

Slightly flustered in the misinterpretation, Peggy didn’t show much of it, but Steve could read it in the way she sat a little more still. Peggy could not be blamed for jumping to a conclusion; Steve hated that Bucky was once again, suspecting someone close to them – a sibling of Peggy.

Of Michael, there was absolutely no reaction from him at the fact that his little brother was under scrutiny; the same kind of scrutiny that Steve could only imagine that Philips had tasked Bucky to put Michael himself under, during the war.

“Very well, Agent Romanov,” Peggy said. “Permission granted.”

* * *

Exhausted, Peggy sat back on the rather comfortable chair within her office. At least it had felt comforting to her at the beginning of the day. Now, after listening to her brother negotiate not just for his defection, his freedom, and his life, but also for Yelena Belova’s own, it just felt…

Empty.

She had wanted to cry, rail at Heaven for the injustice of it all – what Michael had suffered in the hands of HYDRA, of the Soviets – everything. Reading that unspeakable file from the 2012 information brick was damning; knowing that potentially no such file would exist here and now. Nothing that could give proper justice to not just Michael or Bucky, but countless of others that HYDRA and the Soviets had experimented upon during the war and after it.

Ivchenko could not leave the confines of SHIELD-Europe. Peggy knew that she had to find some way to stall.

And yet, Bucky from Steve’s original timeline had made an extremely good point: Sharon Carter had asked to release Ivchenko from prison in the USSR. For what reason was still unknown.

But, it would not be an excuse she could use, or allow SHIELD-North America to inform the US government about. The portal problem and it’s details was something still kept within SHIELD walls. Even the other divisions didn’t know much except for the basics that Peggy had laid out last night.

How could she stall—

The buzz of her phone and blinking light startled Peggy out of her thoughts. She picked up the phone; Lorraine’s crisp yet soothing voice stating, “Ma’am, Security discovered a breach just now, from last night. No visual, audio only.”

“No visual?”

“No, ma’am,” Lorraine confirmed.

“All right,” she said, putting aside the report on the on-going investigation into the underwater 0-8-4, deep in the North Sea.

Lorraine entered, and went directly to the audio-visual set up Peggy had configured within her office. It was independent of the security network within SHIELD-Europe, primarily used to view camera, static, or rarely security footage or listen to recordings from bugged places collected by agents.

Playing the footage, Peggy gave her secretary a slightly puzzled look – there was video footage, specifically focused on the cell where Michael had been housed for the night.

Then they heard it – two voices, both distinctive, and clearly Bucky talking to Michael. The time on the tin placed it at or around the same time she had been listening to Steve and Bucky talk in the living room last night.

As Peggy listened to the conversation, she realized that the seemingly filmed footage was static, and that Bucky speaking was not this reality’s Bucky. But, rather Steve’s original timeline’s Bucky – and that somehow, between the vitrolic, snide remarks she heard coming from her brother, Bucky was actually getting through.

Minute by minute, she could hear the rawness and exhaustion in Michael’s tone. It wasn’t a reflection of Michael’s discussion with Philips on the phone earlier, but it would explain why he seemed more… cooperative.

However, there seemed to be a few long pauses where Peggy thought an answer woud be immediately had – even if it were a huff of contempt, or something. Something to fill the silence, the reaction that should have been garnered.

Soon, the tape stopped, and Lorraine pulled it out. Peggy frowned as she looked at the magnetic tap in her secretary’s hands. There was something missing, and she didn’t know what it was, but she found it odd that Bucky would have done something to freeze the recording footage, but not disable the audio. Whatever kind of advanced technology Bucky used, it wasn’t like him – regardless of reality – to miss that kind of crucial detail.

“Keep the tape, but let Security know that it is being taken care of. No need to raise the alarm for now, though we may have to upgrade how Security conducts themselves. Clearly we do have a couple of weaknesses in the system if this other Bucky was able to break in without setting off alarms, and only disabled the cameras. In the meantime, I’ll be paying a visit to Sergeant Barnes.”

“Ma’am,” Lorraine answered, nodding.

Peggy left and headed down to the rooms where Steve and the others had been working. Bucky with the black, skeletal-like arm was not in the primary room; Dottie was sitting around Sam. The two were either shoring up the timeline or beginning to plan countermeasures. Of Bucky – the one here and now in this timeline, he was reading over something from the information brick. But, between the frosted glass and her viewing angle, she couldn’t tell what it was.

Steve, Natasha, Michael, and Belova had already departed for the hospital. After the morning’s negotiations, and tense review and discussion of information found with everyone else, Peggy hoped that while not a new leaf turned, the hospital visit would help ease some of her brother’s worries.

Peggy headed towards Engineering. As soon as she stepped in, a few heads popped up, blinking owlishly at her presence. It was a little amusing to Peggy, but it seemed David had it all under control, waving them back to their work.

“Looking for Sergeant Barnes, ma’am?”

“Yes,” she answered, slightly surprised at the formality of David’s address of Bucky’s rank.

It had been apparent at breakfast that Bucky of the original timeline hadn’t either retired from the US Army, or found it easier to be addressed in such a way. Of course, Steve and Sam’s address of ‘Bucky’ until they indicated which one, proved to be an amusing distraction during the meal.

David kindly led her to the relatively isolated area where it had been set up as a work space for Bucky. It looked as if SHIELD Engineering was adhering quite stringently to the separation of technology, though Peggy did not miss the lit up curiosity in David’s eyes.

Bucky had some kind of hardlight, semi-transparent file projected up from something within the palm of his hand. He was paging through the information with familiar intensity that Peggy remembered seeing during the war.

She knocked on the frame that separated this area from the rest of the lab. David left with a nod towards her, albeit it was with some reluctance now that he had gotten a look at the advanced technology.

“Chief Carter,” Bucky greeted, shutting off whatever the device in the palm of his hand was, and pocketing it. The black mechanical arm with gold edgings in a strange design sat on the table before him; a spoke-like spherical object embedded within the palm.

“Sergeant,” she answered, smiling warmly at hearing some familiarity in that tone.

It was like and unlike Bucky here and now – but somehow all together different. Peggy didn’t have a word or words to describe it.

Relief briefly bubbled into Bucky’s eyes, and it took Peggy a moment to realize why there was such a relief. Breakfast was pleasant enough, but there still had been some hesitancy and uncertainty within Bucky’s body language. Peggy realized she had begun to see it just after the incredibly strange fugue had snapped away from both Natasha and him – as the Black Widow and the Winter Soldier.

What they had been in Steve’s reality.

Had she known that agreeing to retrieve Michael’s ‘fialka’ would have triggered such a ghastly, hair-raising fugue, she wouldn’t have agreed to it. But, both had snapped out of it, seemingly either in control or not – Peggy could not tell.

Then, when she had read the few reports found earlier today from the information brick, Peggy didn’t deny that a small part of her had wept at just what the Soviets had done to her friend, along with her brother and Natasha. It made what Steve had done all those years ago even more precious.

It had also made Peggy regret just how much laid between herself and her brother.

But, however her regrets weighed upon her, she still had to address the matter at hand. “If we may, I’d like to talk to you in private, Sergeant?”

“Fine with me, ma’am,”

Peggy managed to partially check the odd look she gave him. He was never one to address her formally, even during the war. To hear it now was strange – but she had to remember that this Bucky was not the Bucky here and now.

Bucky took the arm with him, shrinking it down with some kind of tiny disc that fascinated Peggy. It looked like a toy arm off a doll, until Bucky tucked it into his other pocket.

She looked up, Bucky grinning that familiar grin at her. “Forgot what you were like, Car—erm, ma’am,”

“Carter is fine,” Peggy said, as they exited, and made their way to the elevators. “Peggy, if you’re more comfortable. God knows that your counterpart here also doesn’t seem to care much for formality.”

The genuine grin she caught on Bucky as the elevator doors closed and whisked them up to the rooftops startled her slightly, though she was able to hide it. Beside the coloration of the arms, the only other difference that allowed her to physically differentiate between the two had been their expressions.

Considering the horrifying things that Bucky from Steve’s original timeline had been through, Peggy did not blame him for being absolutely reticent and quiet. There was, however, a sense of peace and calm, but also of melancholy. It was a complete contrast to the behavior of Bucky here and now; especially the anger she clearly saw from him whenever in the presence of Michael.

That grin, that smile – it reminded her of the days during the war. When they had younger, more brash, and confident in taking on HYDRA. These past four years had seemingly made all of them more worn, less smiling, and grim.

They walked to the edge of the roof, though Peggy did not miss catching a glimpse of Bucky performing a scan of their surroundings. Even now, it was an action that was ingrained in both – no matter what era either were from.

The comment of how they were so different yet so similar was on the tip of her tongue, but Peggy swallowed it. Instead, she said, “Security informed me that there was a breach in the perimeter yesterday. While I do appreciate that gap being shown to us with sincere kindness, I have some questions about what exactly your conversation with Michael was about.”

“Not about my accusation on your other brother?”

Peggy pressed her lips together for a moment. Then she said, “There’s too much still unknown. I just ask for some discretion, and consideration of innocence. It was something similar to this that created this problem we have now between SHIELD and what had been Department X.”

Bucky nodded. “To be honest, Carter, it was more difficult than I anticipated to break into SHIELD. It’s definitely different than my memories of doing similar things in the past.”

Peggy frowned. “So you do remember?”

He shook his head. “In medias res.”

“Oh,” she answered. “I apologize then.”

“I offered your brother asylum in my reality,” Bucky said, waving away her apology. “Indirectly through him, Belova as well. I may not ever fully understand why you, along with Steve, or even my counterpart have done what you have done, but honestly, I felt sorry for your brother. Regardless of what happens after we defeat Unit 616, someone is going to eventually kill him – either from the West or the East. No one should have to live like that.”

“That’s the voice of experience isn’t it?” Peggy said, looking up at him, saddened. “You do remember parts and pieces of what these defectors from either the Soviet Union or their allies look like, don’t you?”

Bucky sighed, and moved his good hand away from the raised edge of the roof before Peggy could reach out and squeeze it. “Dottie Underwood was one such victim. I killed her with my bare hands, and then put several bullets into her as a good measure. She died in 1947.”

Peggy felt a chill go through her. It took her a few seconds to compose herself, to push aside what she had seen and read, what Steve had told her about the Winter Soldier at the airfield, and when exactly Steve had jumped back in time to. It had been such a gamble on Steve’s part to intercept Bucky before he became the Winter Soldier, that Peggy could only guess that it had been pure luck that Steve had jumped back at the right time, in the right place.

“Michael has a right to hate the three of us,” Peggy began. “He should, he does, and I do not blame him for it. Even before your counterpart accidentally triggered the code word commands, we… didn’t – we never really give him a chance. You don’t remember him during the war, do you?”

Bucky shook his head.

There was nothing else she could say; justifying it to this Bucky was useless. This Bucky whom had had a fate worse than death, did not offer his opinion on what had happened other than to have some compassion for Michael. To Peggy, she didn’t know why it heartened her, but she hoped that perhaps in an odd way, Michael would be able to find some kind of closure between himself and this timeline’s Bucky.

“I’m not a replacement goldfish,” Bucky quietly stated.

She briefly looked out into the city as a large sigh escaped from her. “No, but you do represent what would have happened, had Steve not done what he had done. To give all of us a second chance. We just… almost mucked it all up.”

“Like I told your brother yesterday, he has the choice. I’ll not pressure him, but if he or even Belova wants to cross, I only ask that you don’t stop either of them.”

“And what of Sam and Natasha?” she asked curious.

Bucky didn’t answer.

Peggy knew then, that this ‘offer’ was more than likely made without either of their knowledge. But, made with a kind of confidence that was certain that either would not object to. The decision had been made based on the limited but revealing information Bucky had gleaned from his observations or interactions.

“And what else did you tell Michael in between those long pauses?” she asked, breaking the silence. She wasn’t certain, but she suspected there had been some kind of secret communication between the two – masked by the audio; through certain words or otherwise.

Again, silence greeted her question. However, Bucky’s eyes searched her for something before they were cast out to the London skyline.

“Affirmation,” Bucky finally stated. “Something that this world already has, but not in the state expected, if Unit 616 wants to play with fire.”

“What is it?” she questioned, frowning.

“You already caught a glimpse of it, Carter,” he answered.

Peggy’s eyes widened at what exactly he was implying. “Oh, Bucky… no,” she pleaded. “Why? You broke Steve’s heart once before – why are you doing it again?”

“Because this time, I’m doing it of my own free will.” Those hands of his were folded together, as if in peace.

Clear eyes – clearer than anything she had ever seen before from Bucky – even during the war – met her concerned look. There was confidence, reassurance, and determination in that look; something that Peggy realized that had always been there, but consistently overshadowed by everything else.

It was not idealism – that laid strictly more towards Steve and Sam – but it was self-acceptance. Healing. Atonement. A chance, just like his counterpart here, to take back control of a name and reputation, and make it his own. To use the fear that Unit 616 had had a hand in creating in the other reality, and turn it back on themselves.

“Captain America needs my help. If Unit 616… if HYDRA wants to play with fire in any reality, they’re going to burn.”

* * *

The hospital was a short walk from SHIELD-Europe’s building; the civilian clothing that Steve, along with Natasha, Michael, and Belova wore appropriate for the weather. There had been no time to purchase changes of clothing for the others, thus they had to make do with the not-quite tailored clothing that SHIELD provided from the airfield.

However, it seemed that both Natasha and Belova were quite used to working with clothing that didn’t quite fit them; walking confidently in not just borrowed heels, but the blouses and full skirts that were somehow made to look not ill-fitting. Michael himself didn’t even look strange in the baggy suit he wore, walking with the confidence of a man who had not just negotiate his defection.

Steve sometimes wished that he had their confidence; the world of espionage still a place where he felt uncomfortable. But, at the same time, he was glad Peggy showed compassion – clearly not believing Michael’s attempts to distance himself from Sharon.

Steve held the door open for the three to enter. Checked in and led to the ward where Sharon was resting by a nurse, the four of them entered a quiet room.

Alex looked up from his watch, having finished taking Sharon’s pulse. He quickly jotted down the information and went over to greet them.

Though Bucky’s doubts of Alex still lingered within his thoughts, Steve didn’t let it affect him. He was just as convinced as Peggy was that their Alex, though aged, was not a reflection of whatever ‘the Doctor’ was in the other timeline. Just like the other Alex had been as well – a SHIELD agent with no affiliation to HYDRA. The resumed search into the 2012 information brick after they returned would prove it.

When Steve’s eyes briefly fell on the pale form of Sharon on the bed, his heart constricted slightly. Gone was her vibrancy, pale and withdrawn to the point where he almost didn’t recognize her wrapped in so many bandages. Yet, she was still alive, still breathing – but only just.

Belova was the first to approach; expression genuinely distraught at the state Sharon was in. Even Michael’s expression reflected shock and a hint of remorse.

Alex stepped away to give the two some space. As Natasha approached the other side of the bed, Steve decided to talk to his younger brother-in-law.

“Critical but stable?” he quietly asked.

“Comatose,” Alex answered, saddened. “She’s not responding to stimuli, even though she is slowly on the mend. I hesitate to bring in any of the tech I have until her injuries are more healed.”

Steve reached out and placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder. “Thank you for trying your best, Alex. She’s alive, and maybe… just maybe she’ll be able to wake from this on her own.”

“I’ll give you guys thirty minutes,” Alex answered. “The nurses will be in after that to turn her.”

“Thank you.”

Alex placed the clipboard in his hand down at the foot of the bed and left. As soon as the door closed, Belova suddenly lunged like a viper and snatched Natasha’s wrist.

“Nat—!” Steve shouted.

“Don’t, Steve!” Nat gasped, as Steve saw her face and what skin was not covered by her clothing ripple as if in a high-powered wind machine that also served as an x-ray.

For a brief moment that undulating ripple seemed to briefly crawl up Belova’s own arm, seemingly making her look more youthful. Then it suddenly appeared on the end of Belova’s other arm, and passed into Sharon.

The door slammed open a moment later, Alex rushing in having been alerted by the shouts. At nearly the same time, Belova let Natasha go in a rather violent fashion. Steve moved at the same time Michael did, except that Steve caught Natasha before she could fully crumple to the ground, while Michael slammed Belova up against the wall of the room.

“What the hell did you do?!” Michael growled.

Steve focused on Nat, aware that Alex had rushed to check on Sharon. “Nat!” he said, noting that while she looked slightly paler than she usually look, it was not a deathly pale look.

Just as she began coughing, there came an even more insistent cough from Sharon’s bed. Startled, Steve looked up and over, expression matching that of Michael, who was still holding and pinning Belova up against the wall.

“What…” Alex began, reaching forward to try to calm and control Sharon’s coughs.

“She’s… awake…” Natasha’s strained reply drew Steve’s attention to her. He saw her blink, in confusion or in pain, he couldn’t tell, but there was a tell-tale sign of a smile trying to worm its way around her lips.

“Nat, are you all right?” Steve asked.

“Yeah…” Natasha said, voice hoarse. “I think… I finally caught up to James’ age…”

Steve stared at her, baffled. “What?”

Natasha grimaced again, before shifting in Steve’s arms, clearly wanting to stand up. She looked wobbly, though, as Steve helped her back onto her feet. But, she didn’t step away from him, allowing him to keep a hand on her shoulder to steady her.

“So that’s what your Inhuman powers are, Yelena Belova,” Natasha said, still slightly hunched over, as she gazed up.

“Is that what your reality called us, Natasha Romanov?” Belova stated, tone cold but not hostile.

“You can let her go, Wolf Spider,” Natasha hoarsely stated, sounding a lot stronger than a few seconds ago. “She got her revenge, and Sharon’s healed.”

Michael’s genuinely confused look answered her declaration. Steve caught his uncertainty, questioning Steve himself if everything was as Natasha said. Of Belova, there was no resistance from her – she wasn’t even lifting her hands to try to pry Michael’s hands off her.

“N-Natasha?” came Sharon’s weak, but audible calling.

With some help, Steve brought Natasha over to her, just as Michael slowly released Belova. The woman merely stepped around Michael, but didn’t approach Sharon’s side again. Alex stepped back, as Natasha gingerly made her way forward.

“Hey.”

The smile that Sharon gave, was weak, but it was a familiar one. It was the joyful one that was reflective of Peggy, of the countless of times he remembered seeing during her time in hospice. Always the one she gave him whenever she relapsed into the past and forgot the present.

It’s been so long! So long!

Then, those bright, intelligent brown eyes of her shifted, and Steve saw Sharon’s expression turn into surprise. “S-Steve?” she stuttered, whispering and still weak, but clearly coherent.

“You’re safe now, Sharon,” Steve answered.

Sharon looked around, bewildered, but clearly starting to come to grips as to where she may have ended up. Though Alex stopped himself from preventing her from reaching up and out with a hand from under the sheet, Sharon reached towards Michael and Belova.

“Yelena…”

Michael almost didn’t let the Black Widow through, eyes narrowing ever so slightly before stepping back. Sharon’s grip on Yelena’s hand turned a little tight; whites of her knuckles briefly showing before she relented.

“I am here, моя дочь.”

Steve shared a look with Natasha, a little confused as to why exactly Yelena would refer to Sharon in that manner, when it was clear that Sharon was clearly older than Yelena. Natasha merely shook her head – telling him to leave it alone. Steve dropped his curiosity about the phrase.

“Uncle Michael,” Sharon greeted, smiling in relief. “You’re alive!”

In all of the years Steve had known Michael Carter, he had only seen his expression crumple once before – after Michael had reunited with Peggy at that temporary SSR output. This was the second time that Steve saw such an emotion from hi laid to bare. Where despite this ‘death of personality’, it was becoming clear that Michael did remember what happened before that fateful day on December 31 ^st , 1948.

“And… not-Dad, but still Dad,” Sharon said, turning her attention to look slightly beyond Steve and Natasha.

Steve caught Alex’s extremely puzzled look on him. “I’ll tell you later,” Steve murmured.

“You still need to rest, Sharon,” Yelena spoke up, tone soothing enough that Steve was briefly reminded of his own mother. “You have just woken up, and your strength not yet fully returned.”

“I feel better, M—Yelena,” Sharoon said.

“You may, but be that as it is,” Alex spoke up, going to the end of the bed so that Sharon didn’t have to keep turning her head this way and that to focus. “You’ve just woken up from what was essentially a coma. One that even my colleagues did not think you would ever wake up from, Agent Carter.”

Alex picked up the clipboard from the end of the bed. His eyes searched the four of them, standing around Sharon’s bed. “How… what happened?”

“We call them Inhumans in our reality, Dr. Carter,” Natasha said, before glancing at Belova. “People with special abilities that are woken through a process called terragenesis.”

“You didn’t seem surprised, Nat,” Steve pointed out.

“Because when General Talbot was assassinated by the LMD of Quake, he started a global manhunt for any Inhuman; essentially genocide. By then, Coulson had already compiled a dossier of people he wanted to recruit back into the rebuilt SHIELD as a part of the Secret Warriors Initiative. We had to purge each and every kind of information that could allow him to use blood samples from around the world and identify who was an Inhuman and who was not,” Natasha stated.

She gestured to Sharon. “She is potentially an Inhuman. There are markers within her blood, but not which parent it came from.”

Steve blinked in surprise, as Sharon nodded, though remained silent. Of Belova, the woman was giving Natasha a curious look.

Michael glanced at the three women, before asking, “Something did happen at that obelisk you said you found in Puerto Rico, didn’t it, Yelena?”

“Yes, Director,” Belova answered, but did not elaborate.

Then, she turned her attention onto Natasha. “I have taken my revenge on behalf of my counterpart, though I had not anticipated your resiliency, Black Widow.”

“Wait… you did what, Yelena?” Sharon asked, horrified.

“All right,” Alex intervened. “I’m going to have to ask the four of you to leave. My patient may have just woke up from a seemingly unwakeable coma, but I will not have the four of you arguing and elevating her vitals.”

“Understood, Doctor, and thank you for allowing us to see her,” Steve stated, tone firm as he gave a silent look at the others to leave. “Our allotted visit time is also almost up. We’ll return when we can.”

With murmured farewells and promises to visit later, both Natasha and Belova walked out without further argument. Steve was still bewildered at what happened, but he suspected that the ‘revenge’ that Belova had taken more than likely was tied to the fact that Natasha had killed Sharon’s apparent mother in 1984. That Belova in this reality felt some injustice for it, and arbitrarily decided to take revenge – in the most unusual manner.

Steve was no fool to see that had Natasha not been unusually long-lived, she should have been killed by Belova and whatever was Belova’s power. He wouldn’t have compared it to Jiaying’s life-sucking powers, but it seemed close. Natasha had barely aged with the attack.

Yet, as Steve followed the two out, he turned to see Michael stopped and turned, halfway between the door and where Sharon’s bed was.

“Michael,” Steve called out.

His brother-in-law snapped to as soon as Sharon raised a slight hand and waved in reassurance. A second later, turning and walking past Steve and out into the hall.

Steve closed the door behind him, and followed them out.

~~~

[Target compromised.]

Bucky frowned as he pulled his eye from the scope of his sniper rifle. An unsettling feeling welled up within him. He had been expecting Natasha’s confirmation signal to stay ‘asset compromised’, not ‘target’.

‘Asset’ for Dr. Alexander Carter.

‘Target’ for Sharon Carter.

It wasn’t that Natasha had signaled in Red Room code in full view of Michael Carter, nor of Carter’s barely concealed reaction – which thankfully had not been picked up by either Steve or Belova, the two walking behind and in front of them respectively. It was what she had signaled.

Sharon Carter had been compromised.

Somehow, somewhere – perhaps even before Bucky and Sam had even stepped through – Sharon was not whom she was. At least not whom Natasha knew. And yet, Bucky knew that he couldn’t discount the fact that Sharon seemed fairly coherent, if not in a lot of pain when they had been traveling in those underground tunnels.

However, Bucky didn’t put it to the side; pain was an excellent method to both tell and forget truths; his own experiences contributing to some of it. Ivchenko had been in that massive building, as had Belova. Yet, Natasha had not attacked nor indicate overtly or covertly in any sort of mistrust of Belova.

Of Ivchenko, that was another story. SHIELD clearly did not trust him; Bucky was glad at least they had the sense. Had Peggy not ordered Ivchenko to have been bound and gagged after hearing the how the fall of SHIELD happened in the other reality, he would have done so himself.

In Bucky’s opnion, death was the only option for Ivchenko, but without knowing why exactly Sharon had him specifically released from the gulag, the man had to say alive. That was done without Ivchenko’s intervention.

If the man had actually somehow psychological manipulated Sharon.

Bucky had some doubts, but not enough to fully dismiss Ivchenko as a potential person whom had compromised Sharon Carter. Yet, there was one other person whom could have compromised the agent – and despite the brief mention with Peggy earlier, Bucky could not fully let his suspicions go.

It was worse when his counterpart had told him that he too had suspicions, during their ‘not-spar;. His counterpart seemed to have laid it to rest. Nevertheless, Bucky had seen doubts resurface as soon as the profile for Dr. Alex Carter of the other reality remained on the hardlight projection despite Natasha’s attempts to purge it via parameters.

Bucky sat back from the perch he had taken on the rooftop – shaded by the afternoon sun so that anyone else on the rooftops of nearby buildings couldn’t quite see him. The door to the rooftop had opened, his counterpart’s footsteps distinct in their approach.

“You name that rifle?”

“No,” he answered, and began to disassemble it. “It’s one of two identical rifles I used during my time in Soviet service.”

“No rifling…”

He raised an eyebrow, silently willing his counterpart to get to the point of his rooftop disturbance. “Carter’s awake, isn’t she?”

Rather than affect a surprised look, he saw his counterpart point to the scope. “News?”

“She’s compromised. Romanov confirmed it.”

“Agent Carter?” This time, there was no mistaking the surprise. “Not Dr. Carter?”

Bucky paused in his disassembly and gave his counterpart a plain look. “There were two doctors on that dossier that Romanov pulled up. One while she was captured and held behind enemy lines, and the other, here – left alone for a few days. You tell me whom exactly may have compromised her.”

“Shit,” his counterpart cursed. “How sure are you about this? ‘Cause for all we know, that not-quite HYDRA in the cold open report could have been lying about your reality’s Dr. Carter not being dead.”

“HYDRA is exacting,” Bucky answered. “Their ‘purge’ of the ranks more than likely contributed to Unit 616’s delay in growth, until 2014.”

Bucky expected the silence, and didn’t say anything to break it. What little he knew of what happened here from Peggy was enough for him to understand that the scenario was too close to something similar to what happened with the Wolf Spider.

One mistake, one mistake out of so many – had compromised everyone instead of only one. It could not happen again.

Alex Carter had only been a young child over ten months ago. Then he disappearance and returned, aged to an adult with skill sets that made him a valuable member of SHIELD. Corroboration of his story was flimsy at best; Steve believed Alex because of common knowledge memories.

Bucky didn’t. If he had truly disappeared into that other reality, then there was too much of a chance he may have slipped through into his, Sam, and Natasha’s reality – or others.

And yet, Bucky knew that their own evidence was almost just as flimsy.

The door to the rooftop opened. Bucky looked up, while his counterpart spun around; the flash of anger from his counterpart felt in their resonance. Michael Carter and Natasha Romanov had returned. Displeasure was also clear on Carter’s expression the moment he laid eyes on Bucky’s counterpart.

And yet, Bucky’s counterpart’s anger was wrest under control; receded, and soon did not overwhelm the resonance. Bucky wrapped up the rest of his disassembled sniper rifle onto the cushioned blanket, rolled it up, shrunk it with a disk, and pocketed it.

“Black Widow. Wolf Spider,” Bucky acknowledged.

“White Wolf,” she answered, in kind. “Winter Soldier.”

“<Ivchenko?>” Carter questioned.

“<Useless without the ring.>” Natasha stated. “<Sharon’s keeping him alive for something, possibly influenced to be a decoy.>”

Bucky heard his counterpart sigh in frustration. “<Alex Carter, then.>”

“<Don’t fuck up the trigger words this time, Winter Soldier.>”

“<No commands.>” Bucky interrupted before his counterpart and Carter were able to get into a verbal fight.

Bucky shook his head. “<He learned from failures. - not just in our reality, but in that other reality, possibly countless of others. He knows what made all of us. Behavior, conditioning, methods.>”

“<He didn’t expect Belova to be an Inhuman and wake Sharon up. It’s how Sharon’s compromise was exposed.>” Natasha pointed out.

“<Is SHIELD compromised?>” Bucky’s counterpart asked. “<Is Steve compromised?>”

“<He’s not stupid enough to go whammy people like what Loki did with the scepter.>” Natasha stated.

“<It’s detectable then. Very subtle, but still detectable under the right circumstances.>” Carter mused, almost thoughtful-looking.

“<Then is there an actual plan, or are we going to stand around and fucking piss in the sun?>” Bucky heard the irritation in his counterpart’s tone.

Bucky focused his attention on Carter. “<Your move, Wolf Spider.>”

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: Lawyer/Адвокат

Somewhere in Central Asia…

Bucky sprinted out of his hiding place as soon as the light aircraft passed over the lip of Нурекская ГЭС. At over 900 feet in height, it was quite a long drop. Falling from the train in the Alps should have induced fear in Bucky, but there was no such fear as he latched and secured the cords to the lip of the dam.

His counterpart had told him that he had dropped out of an airplane with no parachute at about 200 meters, which was just a little over 650 feet. The fall had only been cushioned with gnarled pine trees, but other than some contusions, his counterpart had survived.

Not that Bucky was keen on dropping nearly 1000 feet and seeing if he was able to survive. There were much more practical, and silent ways to infiltrate the secret facility within this hydro-electric dam.

Bucky climbed over the edge and briefly looked down. Then he looked back up, took a deep breath – and jumped.

Free falling down, Bucky counted the seconds past, before he tucked himself in, and withdrew a small gun. Just as the bungee line at his feet became taut, he aimed and fired the gun at the roof that housed the primary generator. A tiny grappling pin sprung out and snagged the concrete. Bucky pressed the trigger to reel himself closer.

Detaching the bungee from his feet, he landed lightly. All was still quiet, the sentries in their little alcoves dug within the various ‘bunkers’ downstream. Bucky wrenched open the emergency hatch with little problem, and quickly slipped in.

~~~

Three days earlier, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

The cut off time for Red Room agents to report in had been twenty-four hours ago.

Four hours ago, SHIELD Envoy to the United Nations, Chester Phillips, had arrived at SHIELD-Europe Headquarters. He had not been alone.

Not only did Samuel Brewster accompany Philips, Bucky had been incredibly surprised that his own mother had accompanied the two. He would have thought the Brewster and his mother remained separate from SHIELD business – even if it was a high-valued defector.

It appeared that the UN Special Tasks Group had an interest in the defection.

Bucky didn’t put much stock in the Wolf Spider’s defection; he had made it clear on the rooftop the other day. Yet, considering the fact that both his counterpart and Natasha believed Wolf Spider’s conviction to at least solve the problem of the portal and Unit 616, Bucky did not press.

However, that did not mean he had to get along with Wolf Spider. It was as he had told Steve – he knew their priorities. If it mean that he had to work amid clenched teeth with Wolf Spider, he’d swallow it.

But, that still left the problem of when and how Sharon Carter had been compromised.

Natasha had pointed out that it was Sharon’s speech patterns that initially piqued her interest. While outwardly still the same, there were some inflections within her tone that was odd. As if ‘Sharon’ was attempting to mimic the real Sharon Carter.

Bucky hadn’t meant to flinch when he heard that; Wolf Spider had dispassionately pointed out that that seemed too close, if not actual ‘death of personality’ for Sharon. Bucky remembered just how long it had taken him to finally figure out that ‘Michael’ had become the Wolf Spider since that fateful day on the eve of a new year.

But, it had given them insight into potentially what ‘Faustus Method’ was used. The 2012 information brick had been sparse in describing the original ‘Faustus Method’. However, the iterative development and time it took to implement meant that the method was more than likely after the fall of SHIELD – after 2014.

It inadvertently cleared Dr. Ivchenko of potentially manipulating Sharon. However, it didn’t clear him of the crimes committed against Bucky and his counterpart – or Wolf Spider.

Yet, there was absolutely no proof that Alex was this other ‘Doctor’ mentioned. Nor that his jump through a 0-8-4 portal and alleged aging in another reality meant he was to blame.

Methodologies and the ‘Faustus Method’ developed in the other reality only showed so much. Further digging into reports did not yield as devastating discoveries of why Alex researched methods of control – only that that Alex of that reality did so to understand what was the difference between Red Skull and Steve.

With inconclusive results, they had to work with the possibility of a mole or moles deep within SHIELD. Two – Dr. Carter and Sharon Carter – or more whom had access and knowledge to everything they knew or discussed.

At least what was discussed with others.

Bucky glanced up as he heard his mother speak, dashing away his troubling thoughts. It was not just a necessity that the Wolf Spider gain whatever the hell he had negotiated with Philips. His, along with Natasha, and his counterpart’s first and only meeting on the rooftop had been short, quick, and to the point. They could not take further action until there was some relief in movement.

It was slightly crowded within the observation room. Himself, along with his counterpart were there, along with Wilson, Natasha, Dottie, and Steve. Agents Cracken, Li, and Wessiri were also present; the three occasionally throwing Sam, Bucky’s counterpart, and Natasha odd looks – as if they still could not believe that the three were from another reality.

Alex was there, not just to watch his family be completely reunited, but also to monitor Sharon. Sharon was not supposed to have been discharged so early from the hospital – even if she had been unexpectedly woken up from her coma by Belova of all people. There had been some minor panic within SHIELD – Belova was the literal namesake of her call sign.

It had been quickly quelled by Peggy’s firm, no-nonsense guidance. It helped that Steve demonstrated that there was nothing to fear from Belova either – shaking bare-hand to bare-hand. Belova used her Inhuman powers at-will.

Then, there were the utterly unexpected presences within the observation room: his sisters Rebecca and Samantha, along with their respective husbands, Peter and Nicholas. Agnes was sitting in the interrogation room with their mother.

Peter and Rebecca had come with official SHIELD-North America orders to bring Ivchenko back to the United States. The two were not entirely party to whatever the UN STG had an interest in with the defectors.

There were two additional people in the observation room that had arrived with Philips: a young woman named Valentina Rostova and Becca’s adopted daughter, Natalie. Bucky had only knew Natalie as the gangly-looking teenager he and his mother had rescued in the steppes during Operation Midnight. It hadn’t been until late in Steve’s mission to return to the Infinity Stones that he had found out that ‘Natalie Proctor’ was Natasha’s younger self in this reality.

Natasha hadn’t indicated that she was experiencing any resonance between her counterpart and herself. It was clear though, that Natalie did remember something of what happened during that brief time she and Bucky’s family had temporarily taken shelter at the Brooklyn SSR base. She avoided Natasha seemingly like the plague – standing on the opposite side of the room, no less.

Of those within the interrogation room, Bucky’s mother, along with Philips, Lorraine, and Agnes were there. Two copies of the documents detailing whatever was in the defection agreement were provided to both Belova and Wolf Spider.

At present, those within the interrogation room were discussing the finer details of the documents. Bucky had had enough at the moment, listening to any further negotiations. He pushed off the wall he had been leaning against, while unfolding his arms, and walked to the door.

“Bucky…”

Bucky caught the peripheral movement of both his counterpart and Wilson reaching out to stop Steve from following him. He knew Steve was worried about him; had even tried to convince him that he didn’t have to watch this, earlier. Bucky had thought he was able to tolerate it.

Curious eyes tracked his movements, but no one else stopped him.

~~~

Mission execution, somewhere in Central Asia…

All was quiet, as Bucky carefully made his way in and around the hydro-electric plant – avoiding guards where he could. The hydro-electric plant was not the main target – it was the adjacent facility that used this as a partial cover that was.

His all-black outfit and glove covered his gleaming silver hand, the gun in his hand not the usual sniper rifle he had. It was what he carried within his the pockets of his trousers and tactical vest that were more important.

Entering the stairwell, Bucky descended a floor, blueprint to this facility memorized. He paused at the door, and carefully observed the freezer area within the kitchens. Only one chef was present, and he looked to be busy moving slabs of meat onto a cart.

Bucky hugged the wall as he slipped past the corner, and then entered the first storage room within the kitchen. It was empty of enemies.

Pressing himself against the adjacent wall as he closed the door, he took another quick look outside the small window and into the kitchen.

No one had been alerted thus far.

~~~

Three days earlier, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

Fog was starting to roll in as the sun set on London. As soon as Bucky emerged onto the rooftops, he realized that the rooftop was occupied – albeit with only two other people.

He had thought Samuel Brewster would have joined Philips within the interrogation room. Bucky was not surprised to find it not so, though he hadn’t expected Brewster to be talking to David on the rooftops. Bucky could only imagine what David was going through – with the defection of Wolf Spider and his continued presence within SHIELD.

And yet, David had put on a brave face in the past few days after coming back from some much needed leave. With everything that had happened thus far, Bucky hadn’t had time to talk to his old friend.

“Sorry, sirs. I’ll come back later,” he apologized, and made to go back down.

“James—Agent Barnes.”

Bucky paused, and turned around. Brewster had called to him. He had not missed the slightly surprised look David gave the man at the familiarity in which Bucky had been called, before amending it to a more professional address.

David, though looking forlorn and frustrated, made to leave. A hand from father to son’s shoulder kept him from leaving. Clearly Brewster had something to discuss with Bucky, but was willing to discuss it in front of David.

“Are detailed discussions still on-going, Agent?”

“Yes, sir,” he answered.

Brewster nodded. “I apologize that it had to have happen in this manner, but with the threat that the Wolf Spider represented, it was necessary to ensure that multiple witnesses were present. The Wolf Spider is not just of interest to SHIELD.”

Bucky frowned. He knew what ‘multiple witnesses’ implied, and he was absolutely not happy at the danger that Philips had placed his family in. Bucky suspected a fairly high, non-zero chance that the Wolf Spider would renege on the written agreements to his defection.

“Why, sir?” he asked. “You and my mother are UN Special Tasks Group. As far as I know, four years ago, my family was supposed to have disappeared into the unknown – to live their lives in peace.”

He pointed down the closed stairwell door with his left hand. “Alaska. I find out that Becca and her husband are SHIELD agents. Now this. What happened? What the fuck was Philips thinking?!”

Brewster didn’t answer him for a few long seconds. Bucky ignored the distressed look that David had on his face, as he looked back and forth between them.

“Agent Barnes, you cannot make any objective decision on the agent known as Wolf Spider,” Brewster stated, breaking the silence. “You are wholly compromised – morally, ethically, everything. Your decisions and judgment with regards to the agent known as the Wolf Spider cannot be trusted.”

“And my mother, my sisters and their families are not?!” Bucky scoffed. “You should have just brought regular federal agents or even SHIELD agents recruited after we established SHIELD. They’ve more objectivity than anyone else!”

“Father, stop—”

“David, stay out of this!” Brewster stated, tone hard and unrelenting. To Bucky, the old agent stated in a colder tone, “This is out of your hands, Agent Barnes. One step out of the line Wolf Spider has drawn for his defection, he will die. It is no longer yours or SHIELD’s problem to deal with.”

Bucky remained silent, jaw clenched in anger, and hands curled in fists. It wasn’t that he was jumping for joy at the fact that there were more eyes on the Wolf Spider now – and that he didn’t have to continuously babysit.

It was the fact that Philips’ confidence in him was gone.

That confidence that he had had from his old commander from the war until now, was gone. Bucky didn’t know why it felt so hollow, why he felt a strange ache within him to have lost something like that – a final mission of sorts ripped away from him.

But, he heard the truth in Brewster’s words. He was compromised – completely. He held the proverbial knife at Wolf Spider’s throat, and Wolf Spider at his. It was a mutual kill if ever unleashed, and the collateral damage would be enormous enough that SHIELD could never recover.

Bucky slowly uncurled his hands, as he breathed out slowly. His eyes refocused back on Brewster; David’s expression of distraught worry that swiveled back and forth between the two of them.

“Understood and acknowledged, sir,” he stated, calmly. “Thank you, for letting me know.”

The cold, serious expression Brewster had upon him disappeared. It was replaced by a tired look, as Brewster approached. David hesitatingly followed, unsure.

“James,” Brewster began, hand on the door handle. “I know how hard this is for you. I had been through something similar long ago. It may not ever get better, but you learn to live with it.”

Brewster stepped past and descended. Bucky caught David’s concerned look upon him. Bucky didn’t bother to wave or give any indication of reassurance – just shook his head; he didn’t want to talk about it.

He was not happy with the decision, but he understood why it was made. There was no argument he could put against it that wouldn’t be easily snuffed out.

Bucky turned and followed.

~~~

Mission execution, somewhere in Central Asia…

Across the storage room was a thin rectangular window that nearly ran end to end on the wall. Beyond that was a room full of Soviet soldiers at their consoles, and a couple of people wearing white lab coats. None looked to be wearing the black uniforms of Unit 616.

Even without identifying the ‘fialka’ machine in the center of the room, Bucky observed that more than a few of the soldiers’ haircuts looked too fresh, and unfamiliar. Not like what he had observed for two years behind enemy lines.

Bucky slipped further into the room. “I’m alone.”

Natasha melted out from the shadows on his left.

“Aren’t we all,” she purred, smirking at him. “You’re late, Winter Soldier.”

“Had to grab a cup of coffee,” Bucky quipped, grinning.

Natasha turned and led him to the grating. Because of how both the hydro-electric and adjacent facilities were built, the ventilation system was beneath the floors, rather than ceilings. She crouched, and pulled it up.

“Ready to save the world again?” she asked.

“After you, Black Widow.”

~~~

Three days earlier, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

When the three emerged from the stairwell, Bucky felt a thick tension within the air – thick enough that it felt as if he could cut through it. It looked as if the discussions had concluded; Agents Cracken, Wessiri, and Li no longer present. Everyone else was scattered up and down the hall.

Bucky expected more than a few unhappy expressions, but there seemed to be more than the usual amount – especially from his mother, sisters, and surprisingly the husbands of Becca and Samantha. Agnes was nowhere to be seen, and even stranger, the young woman, Valentina Rostova was also missing.

Steve was quietly talking with Peggy and Philips. Dottie and Lorraine were quietly talking between themselves. Wilson was trying to console an upset-looking Sharon. Alex was standing behind her temporary wheelchair, looking as if trying to urge Sharon to rest or return to the hospital, since she was not fully healed or recovered yet.

Of his counterpart, he saw him a little ways away down the hall, seemingly somewhat detached from the hubbub within the hall, but also monitoring it. Bucky did not miss the fact that there was a press of confusing knot of emotions pinging ever so slightly within the resonance they shared. He realized that perhaps his counterpart did not know the fate of their family in the other reality.

“Belova questioned the authenticity of Ms. Rostova’s defection.”

Bucky briefly glanced over as Natasha sidled up to him. David had been slightly startled; David’s father managed to conceal most of his reaction at Natasha’s unexpected and sudden appearance.

Bucky’s eyes sought out Belova, and it looked as if there was some anger in the Wolf Spider’s body language, given the way his head was bent, and the glare that Belova was giving him. A rather ironic laughter bubbled up within him; Belova’s question rather rude, considering what had just been discussed and signed.

“So where is she?” Bucky asked.

“Your sister took her elsewhere to calm down,” Natasha explained. “Valentina Iosifovna Rostova was a legendary KGB agent by the time I started my tenure as the Black Widow. There were rumors that Red Room leadership tried to recruit her into the Widow Program, but for some odd reason, her handlers had enough sway to stop that from ever happening. She ‘wrote the book’ on non-Red Room female agents’ conduct of operations during the height of the Cold War.”

“Sounds like you admire her, Natalia,” Bucky commented.

“Not as much as your youngest sister, James,” Natasha stated. “Rostova turned. Your sister had a large hand in it. It was apparently similar to how Rebecca turned an NKVD agent, Samantha an MGB agent, and now Agnes to a KGB agent. Or is it still MGB…?”

“KGB in our reality, Agent Romanov,” Brewster rumbled.

Bucky didn’t know whether or not he should have been slightly frightened. Uneasy, yes, but the fact that his sisters had turned three Soviet agents against their homeland was no small feat. Yet, it also told Bucky just how much his family had been targeted.

Natalie, Natasha’s counterpart in this reality, suddenly approached. Bucky hadn’t seen her in over four years, but she looked to have grown only slightly older than he remembered her at fourteen. Or what passed visually as fourteen; Bucky knew Natasha – and Natalie – had been alive and at least child-aged since at least the last of the Tsars.

Natasha’s counterpart had been adopted by Becca and her husband here. He didn’t question his sister or mother for letting Natalie continue to live a spy’s life, but he did find it a little sad that neither could give her the normal life he had hoped she would have.

“Thank you,” Natalie suddenly chirped, withdrawing a small object enclosed in aluminium foil and held it up.

Slightly bewildered, Bucky took the object. “Thanks…? Should I open this now?”

Natalie glanced at her counterpart, who had an amused look. Then, she refocused her attention onto Bucky, and nodded.

Bucky trusted Natasha to say something if she was feeling the effects of resonance. Thus far, she had not said a word. He was inclined to believe that the strange resonance between him and his counterpart was an isolated incident.

Opening the foil covered thing, Bucky couldn’t help but grin as he saw the contents. There was half a cookie within – not already eaten or bitten, but clearly broken in half. It was apparently payment for when he had shared half a cookie with Natalie all those years ago in Brooklyn—

Their stares were something he had gotten used to quickly; the silence in the mess hall palpable. Fear mixed with awe, as he strode across the mess, carrying his tray of food. None offer seats, and he didn’t want to sit with any of them.

Even the Widow candidates whom ate in their own corner tracked him with their eyes. Except for one – a former candidate, it seemed.

The girl with brown hair and spindly arms and legs sat alone; seemingly ostracized from the other Widow candidates. He had seen her the other day, practicing ballet forms with unnatural grace and coordination.

It seemed that elegance did not extend to eating. The girl attacked her food seemingly with ravenous hunger – as if she had not eaten for days. A strange sense of curiosity compelled him to join her.

As soon as he sat, she paused, mid-bite, and looked up. Wide eyes quickly filled with fear, before they were seemingly and very strangely shuttered. It was as if she didn’t sense that he would take what was left of her food on her tray.

He tested a theory, and took up the small roll on his tray with his left hand, and placed it on hers. Not a few seconds later, it was snatched up – shoveled into her mouth and chewed with extreme prejudice.

She clearly had no fear, or had mastered a discipline few ever had done – control that fear.

He decided to test his theory again, and took up the cookie upon his tray. He was under the impression that cookies were not something that the mess usually served – today some kind of exception.

He broke the cookie in half and extended his left hand out; metal fingers curled lightly with the appropriate amount of force to keep from crushing it. Rather than place it on her tray, he held it near enough to her.

Seconds later, the girl slowed her messy eating, and stared at the cookie. Her eyes traced the silvery fingers holding the morsel of sweetness, up, until she met his eyes. Her eyebrows furrowed; clearly trying to discern if it was a test or not.

Then, her eyes flicked to his flesh-and-blood hand; holding the other half of the piece. Back and forth she looked between his metal hand and flesh-and-blood one – before seemingly coming to a decision.

The girl reached out and took the cookie from his left hand, and chomped on it with a little less messiness, and more enthusiasm than he had seen earlier. He saw the edges of her lips curl up into a rather pretty smile—

Bucky gasped. Stars exploded behind his eyelids that seemed to beat with the drum across his head – all of it synchronized to the blare of alarms. SHIELD contamination alert alarms – and someone shouting his name.

Bucky!

He groaned as he clutched at his head, but couldn’t seem to move much – only that he was on the ground. Each tiny movement, each attempt to blearily open his eyes to see what had happened was met with an excruciating wash of pain cascading through his head—

—and then there was nothing.

~~~

Mission execution, somewhere in Central Asia…

They emerged from the ventilation system and onto the floor where the blueprints stated that there was a guard room just before the fuel storage area that fueled this facility’s vehicles and light aircraft. Bucky stalked forward at a fast pace, Natasha keeping up with him.

He entered the lab and fired a single bullet into each soldier. In the hall and at the adjacent door to the lab, Natasha had placed a keypad scrambler on the keypad. It was custom-built by SHIELD-Europe Engineering.

Fifteen seconds later, the device beeped. Bucky exited the lab, and Natasha wrenched the device off. They quickly entered and closed the door behind them. Bucky scanned the area, noting just how many canisters there were.

For a facility supplying power to the region, along with irrigation to fields, it was normal to have quite a bit of security. But, with the amount of canisters he saw – it was quite excessive.

And yet, aside from shooting a couple of guards, and successfully evading patrols, there was not one soldier within the actual area. “This is too easy,” he muttered.

“Half of everything is luck, James,” Natasha stated, as she shifted and moved away to put the device back on the keypad to scramble the lock.

“And the other half?” he asked.

Bucky inwardly groaned as his words tempted fate. Not a split second after he uttered that, the alarms began to blare – the keypad detected. Only Unit 616 would have such swift detection of SHIELD Engineering attempts to get a leg up in the usage and deployment of technology.

“Fate!” Natasha said, as they jumped down from the top of the stairs and landed lightly on the ground.

~~~

Three days earlier, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

The familiar sterile smell of a medical facility assaulted Bucky’s nose as he blinked awake. The pounding headache had was gone, and last he remembered—

“Steve. On your left.”

Wilson had said that, and not a moment later, the rustling of clothing was heard. Steve appeared in Bucky’s vision, expression carrying great relief.

“What… what happened?” he hoarsely asked.

A feeling of dryness, of being stretched, squashed, and seemingly drunk at the same time and not, cascaded through not just under his skin, but awareness. It was a very strange feeling, even though his eyes were telling him otherwise – that he was in SHIELD-Europe’s tiny medical facility.

Steve sat down fairly heavily in the chair next to his bed. It creaked just a little under his weight but did not collapse.

“I… we think the four of you – you, other timeline Bucky, Natasha, and Natalie – had some kind of episode related to this resonance thing,” Steve began. “The four of you collapsed almost all at the same time, and…well, something that looked like a portal of sorts formed equidistant from all of you.”

“Portal?” Bucky questioned, alarmed.

“Engineering is analyzing the data collected,” Steve stated. “We’re not sure what it is, only that it triggered not just the contamination alarms, but also the 0-8-4 alert system.”

Bucky blinked, and shifted, feeling less of the strange otherworldly feeling, and more of the IV needle stuck in the crook of his elbow’s veins. “Shit.”

“It stopped once the four of you passed out. It’s been a couple of hours since then.”

It wasn’t so much the tone, but more of what Steve wasn’t saying. Of Wilson, Bucky turned slightly to see that Wilson was sitting between Natasha and Natalie, semi-listening to the story. There was tension within the black man’s body language though – something else had happened.

Bucky turned back to Steve. “Spill it, Steve. What else happened?”

“Damn, remind me to never play any sort of gambling games with either of them,” Wilson quipped. “It’s really uncanny how both of you Barnes can do that. See right through things.”

Wilson’s brief distraction seemed to give Steve the necessary courage to bring up what was probably more bad news. “Ivchenko is dead.”

“How?”

“During the transfer and hand-off from SHIELD-Europe to SHIELD-North America,” Steve stated. “He apparently had a heart attack and died on the tarmac. British intelligence services were supervising the transfer. It’s currently too early to make a conclusive decision, but preliminary reports from Alex and his team are indicating that it’s from natural causes.”

‘Good,’ was on the tip of Bucky’s tongue. He held it back, and instead, asked, “You ever get the reason why Agent Carter wanted him alive?”

Steve sighed and folded his hands together. “Sharon wanted to keep Ivchenko alive because she thought that he was able to reverse the conditioning done to not just yourself, but also on Michael.”

“Aside from consent which I would have never given that fucking monster, Ivchenko wouldn’t have never done that,” Bucky bitterly stated, shaking his head slightly. “He would have just continued to mess with our minds, Steve. Probably going to definitely go to hell for this, but I’m glad he’s dead. Natural causes or not, I’m glad that whomever may had induced that heart attack, did so.”

“Come on, man,” Wilson spoke up. “You really don’t mean that do you?”

Bucky turned slightly to see him with an unhappy expression on his face. Natasha and Natalie did not look to be awake yet.

“He does, Sam. That heart attack was too convenient.”

Bucky’s eyes focused on his counterpart beyond Steve, who was staring up at the ceiling and quite awake. Steve’s unhappy expression nearly matched that of Wilson.

“Ivchenko and his ‘Faustus Method’ won’t see the light of day here in this reality,” Bucky heard his counterpart state. “It’s the best trade off for a one-way ticket to hell.”

“Stop it, you two,” Steve said, tone between admonishment and anger. “Neither of you are going to hell. You’re both right – with both Zola and Ivchenko dead, people in this world are safer.”

Bucky remained silent, eyes briefly catching Steve’s own as his best friend continued to sit between himself and his counterpart. He looked away, slightly ashamed of his outburst but still stood behind his words.

He was glad Zola and Ivchenko were dead and would no longer torment anyone else

~~~

Mission execution, somewhere in Central Asia…

Two guards burst through the door. Bucky calmly spun and raised his metal arm, their bullets pinging off of it, as he shielded Natasha for a brief moment. With his right, he raised his pistol and shot both.

The guards tumbled down the stairs. Bucky sheathed his gun and went to grab their rifles. He tossed one to Natasha, who caught it and disappeared behind the larger canisters. Bucky himself slung the rifle over his body as he took the combined charge-detonator-timer bricks out of his pockets.

“Three minutes!” Natasha ordered.

The rat-a-tat-tat sound of machine rifle fire echoed all around the area, as the Soviet soldiers tried to punch through the bullet-proof glass. Bucky could only thank the heavens above that it didn’t matter what time or reality they were from, bullet-proof glass was still durable. He managed to get two bricks and their timer for three minutes set up, before a tremendous crash signaled that the soldiers had broken through.

Bucky broke cover and unloaded a burst from his rifle.

“Closing time, Natalia!” he shouted. The first few fell under his careful and controlled rifling, but more were coming through. “Last call!”

“Buy me a pint!” Natasha’s answer was barely heard, as Bucky briefly raised his arm to block stray bullets and moved to a better position.

The explosion that blew the door to the area sent a few soldiers into the ground. Even more soldiers were pouring through, as Bucky took cover again, out of bullets.

“Shut the door, James! There’s a draft!”

Bucky huffed, and pulled out his pistol. “Could use a little help here.”

Natasha’s answer was to unleash a burst. Bucky immediately stepped out and fired at the nearest soldiers, dropping them each with a single, precise bullet into the head. He crabbed over towards Natasha – and a possible cover they could use.

Then, Natasha’s rifle clicked empty. Bucky had reached her, and whirled her into cover, just as they heard someone shout in Russian, “<Stop shooting! You’ll blow us all up!>”

~~~

Three days earlier, SHIELD-Europe Headquarters…

“Without Alex’s inputs, I can’t give you any conclusive results if this ‘resonance’ thing between counterparts is dangerous or not,” David began.

They were gathered in the main briefing room. It was not just Bucky, his counterpart, along with Natasha, Steve, Wilson, and Peggy – but everyone else who had been witness to the phenomenon. The only ones not present were Sharon Carter – who was still resting and healing, and Alex – still at the airfield with SHIELD agents to deal with Ivchenko’s death.

Medically, SHIELD medical personnel were unable to find anything wrong with them. The four of them had been discharged shortly after they had all woken up. The half-piece of cookie wrapped in tin-foil had also been uncontaminated, and was determined not to be of any danger.

Bucky had privately conferred with his counterpart and Natasha on the memory. They had confirmed that it was the same sequence of events – a cookie being shared in a Soviet meal hall – except opposite perspectives. It wasn’t conclusive, but it seemed Natalie’s actions of sharing the cookie here and now had triggered those highly emotional memories in their respective counterparts.

At present, Wilson’s left bracer projected a hardlight projection of documents and recorded information, and David utilizing the rather primitive-looking electric projector when compared to it. But, the results were inked on the transparency, and not on Wilson’s rather fantastical bracer.

“But, it is thanks to the captured frequencies from Mr. Wilson and Captain Rogers’ suits, along with the research stored within that helped lead to this breakthrough,” David continued. “The ‘portal’ that briefly formed during the ‘resonance’ matches the exact frequency signatures of the one in Siberia.”

“Does that not imply that whomever had formed the Siberian portal did so through a ‘resonance’ episode with his or her counterpart here, then?” Peggy questioned.

“Exactly,” David stated, and swapped transparencies. “Given the brief time the one within SHIELD formed, sustaining such a portal can only indicate that it is possible to have some kind of power source to maintain the longevity. As for whom formed it, well… that I cannot say.”

“There weren’t any sort of power source from what we’ve seen,” Wilson stated, catching Bucky’s counterpart’s eyes. Bucky saw his counterpart shake his head, confirming Wilson’s statement.

“Nor were there any indications when Department X’s scientists discovered it nearly four years ago,” the Wolf Spider spoke up. “Considering the technological advantage of Unit 616, how feasible would there be for some kind of cloaked energy source – undetectable to 1950s technology, and able to fool the technology of the other timeline?”

Bucky caught Steve and Wilson sharing a glance. It was surprisingly Bucky’s counterpart who answered, “Feasible.”

“But it does narrow down whom exactly is alive in our reality in our time, and whom is alive in yours,” Natasha spoke up. “This ‘resonance’ it’s not just memories that pass between counterparts with similar realities. I think it may be ‘will’ as well.”

“Will?” Peggy questioned, looking slightly concerned.

“Ma’am, I’m just theorizing, but I think resonance triggers when there’s a lot of strong emotions. Then, comes the memory or memories, and then the fight to either block it, or absorb it.”

Even though it hadn’t been as much of a problem with the occasional spikes Bucky got from his counterpart, he knew he had to speak up. “Natalia is right. It’s like… and unlike an invasion of sorts depending on the perspective. And it’s probably that fight or strength of that fight that triggers a portal.”

“It is,” he heard his counterpart quietly state. “Dr. Brewster, page two-hundred-and-three has your answer. The hypothesis has already been proven with regards to inorganic materials.”

Bucky watched as David tapped the hardlight projection to halt the lazy orbit of documents. He was not the only one to shoot a surprised look at his counterpart, the moment they all saw the author of the apparent thesis and research document.

His counterpart was apparently either attempting to defend his doctoral thesis or had already done so. Considering the words his counterpart had spoken, Bucky put money on the latter half. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it, and decided to follow his counterpart’s example – and treat it like a non-incident.

That moment passed; David quickly went to the page. Half of what was stated on the page was complete and utter gibberish to Bucky. However, when he got to the part about the apparent alien Asgardian method of travel from planet to planet through what was the equally absurd name of Bi-Frost Bridge, it was the how that caught his interest. How the Einstein-Rosen bridge, in Earth terminology, was formed.

The paper stated that it was exertion of energy from materials being forced to meld in transit, absorbing other alien properties created, that created the ‘portal’ from world the world. It only worked if properties on the worlds – nine of them at least – had similar properties. Activating the bridge didn’t take much energy. Sustaining such a bridge required exponentially more, and the centrifugal force of Asgard’s Bi-Frost bridge creation device had provided such energy.

It sounded almost exactly like what happened to the four of them during the resonance, except theirs was not sustained.

“So we could be dealing with an Asgardian instead?” Dottie questioned.

“Human, more likely,” Natasha answered. “Someone with a vested interest in getting HYDRA, Unit 616 set up here, because of the lack of HYDRA. Same person in both realities, except one who knows most if not all of what happened in our timeline. Who will not repeat the mistakes of the past.”

“Then how do we take back the portal and close it?”

“We are not nuking it,” Wilson stated, shaking his head. “Our people aren’t equipped to deal with whatever shit may fall through from a nuke through the portal.”

“Agreed,” Steve answered. “But… maybe we don’t need a nuclear weapon. Maybe we’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe just need a large enough EMP. 50’s tech has a lot more durability and shielding than stuff from the future.”

“I’m not a tech head, but you do have a point, Steve,” Wilson said. “Tech’s a lot lighter, thinner, and the trade offs are that they’re more susceptible to being electrically or physically broken.”

Bucky couldn’t help but snort in agreement. Considering how fantastical-looking his counterpart’s technology, along with the 2012 information brick seemed, they did feel slightly fragile while being carried.

Steve nodded, though it was Natasha who picked up the conversation. “From the recon and insertion, Unit 616 seems to have a dependency on the advanced tech. They’d probably put priority on protecting whatever generator may be sustaining it, rather than their personnel guarding the site.

“Fry the site, go in on foot, take it over, and find that generator?” Wilson asked.

“Can’t leave any traces of SHIELD behind.” Bucky noticed that Natasha’s eyes strayed over to Peggy. “Your people are going to have to drop a few distinctly Western habits, if they want to make this look like an inside job. Or whomever else you’d want this Siberian attack to be blamed on.”

Silence answered Natasha’s statement. Bucky didn’t blame the fact that Peggy didn’t look thrilled at the prospect of the plan; it was using Unit 616’s methods – underhanded and could potentially cause more unrest in an already fearful country.

“We’ll think of more solutions, Peggy,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Wilson agreed. “That’s just us, throwing spitballs, ma’am.”

“How long do you need, and how large of a yield can you achieve, David?” Peggy questioned after a second, seemingly come to life. “To construct an EMP that has a blast wave powerful enough to knock out a fairly sized landing zone for our people?”

David didn’t answer for a few long seconds, furrowing his eyebrows slightly as he considered the magnitude of Peggy’s request. Bucky was a little surprised that Peggy was seriously considering the rather harebrained plan.

“Two weeks, maybe, to construct. I can’t give you an estimate of yield yet, ma’am,” David answered, uncertain. “Assuming you don’t want Mr. Stark helping.”

“I don’t want to put him in unnecessary danger,” Peggy answered, shaking her head. “He already has too many people sniffing around his company’s doorsteps.”

“Understood, ma’am,” David answered. “Two weeks, then. The team will get started right away.”

“Thank you David,” Peggy stated.

David sat, and Lorraine turned the projector off. Wilson took his bracer back, and someone near the door flipped on the lights. Bucky saw Peggy tenting her hands, eyes looking around the table.

“I’m assuming the UN won’t have a problem if this operation is carried out in the strictest sense of discretion?” Peggy directed her question to Philips.

Philips didn’t immediately answer. The man glanced at both Bucky’s mother and Brewster, both of whom shook their heads. The man returned his attention onto Peggy.

“Use utmost discretion, Carter. SHIELD has a go. Your operation, your brief to the other chiefs. Just let me know what time you need me to be on the horn.”

“Understood and thank you, sir,” Peggy answered.

Peggy then turned her attention to two specific people at the table. “Agent Romanov and Operative Belova, your services are required for the next few days. The two of you will instruct the agents here on what habits they should be rid of.”

Bucky saw Natasha blink slightly in surprise, before nodding once. “Ma’am.” It was echoed by Belova.

“I think we can safely say that this is a Level 1 operation, Rogers,” Philips stated, focusing his attention on Steve. “You’re authorized to use any and all available resources.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then,” Wolf Spider began, withdrawing a folded up map that was partially unfurled before it was pushed to Peggy. “You’re going to need to coordinate with the other SHIELD divisions to take out these sites first, if you want to launch your preemptive strike without them noticing, Chief Carter. Let your agents make use of their training, while forcing Unit 616 divert resources to rebuild and maintain their network.”

~~~

Mission execution, somewhere in Central Asia…

The silence that fell upon those within the tank storage area was almost deafening. In cover, Natasha pointed to the conveyor belt at the other end of the facility – their escape route. Together, they carefully maneuvered and moved the fall cage of gas canisters – the squeaky wheels quite loud in the silence.

Bucky heard the cascade of rifles being trained on them, as he and Natasha slowly made their way to the conveyor belt. They hit the side of it, and from the angle he stood at, Bucky saw the commander give an amused smile. As if he and Natasha were cornered rats with no where to run.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw Natasha smash the button to start the conveyor belt. Warning lights blared, and Bucky moved before the commander or other soldiers could wise up.

Wrapping Natasha protectively against him, Bucky landed on the belt and was swiftly carried away. Natasha’s rapid firing of her gun sang across her ears as she fired the locking mechanism off a storage container – unleashing a waterfall of canisters.

They were carried out into the small hangar bay. The rumble and buzz of a light aircraft already taking off. Bucky caught a glimpse of his counterpart within the cockpit.

Natasha scrambled up and climbed into the aircraft just as it began to emerge out from the hangar. Bucky was a little slower – not because he was injured, but because he lingered behind to punch out one of the first few soldiers to emerge.

Taking the guard’s rifle, he fired several bursts, causing a brief pileup of dead soldiers at each door to the hangar. Then, he turned and ran as fast as he could.

Bucky barely made it to the aircraft, grasping Natasha’s outstretched hand. Just as he was hauled in, he saw his counterpart push the throttle forward. Moments later, they were rising rapidly into the air. Another thirty seconds later, the facility exploded in spectacular fashion – the shockwave shaking the aircraft for a few moments.

It was mission complete for the Winter Soldier, Black Widow, and White Wolf.

* * *

Somewhere in London…

As dinners went, Peggy didn’t think this was as awkward as a few others she had had before in the past. It was just the four of them: herself, Alex, Michael, and Sharon at the small Italian place just a block away from SHIELD.

Peggy wished that she was able to invite her and her brothers’ parents – Sharon’s paternal grandparents – but it would have been extremely difficult to explain her presence. Especially when it was clear she was slightly older than any of them. It had already been difficult to explain to them that Alex had inexplicably aged; their parents while glad to have found him again, suffered heartache over the fact that Alex had grown up without them.

While Sharon was quite curious when it came to topical conversations, her enthusiasm in getting to know her family making the dinner and the past few days a lot more bearable. She had initially protested not being on the roster for Operation Tow Line. However, it had not just been Alex who had been surprisingly firm from a medical perspective, but also Michael.

Peggy knew Michael was no longer the Michael she had grown up with, played with, and shared secrets with.

Those hurtful words he had said on that Brooklyn rooftop, just before he defected still haunted her. And yet, she did not dismiss that Sharon had had a profound effect on him.

It was not quite what she remembered his encouragement of her to pursue the life she wanted, but it was similar to the guidance given. Sharon’s miraculous recovery was completely unknown in terms of science.

Even those from Steve’s original timeline had no idea what effects or aftereffects could come from such a violent transfer of… life. Peggy didn’t know what to call what Belova had done, but ‘transfer of life to revive another’ seemed appropriate.

Michael seemed a lot closer to what he used to be, in terms of personality, whenever he talked to Sharon. By extension, he had seen him approach Alex in a similar manner – curious as to what exactly the 0-8-4 that transported him from time and place, was.

There was no such warmth between her and Michael; not anymore. It hurt, but Peggy understood why, and she would not press to have anything other than the professional relationship they had now. It had only been Alex reminding her earlier to eat, that she had hastily arranged this dinner.

While Peggy had other duties other than monitoring – and worrying – about those executing Operation Tow Line, she had attended to other mission reports. Those agents whom had not been engaged in other 0-8-4 monitoring and retrieval had all been diverted to the operation.

SHIELD-Europe had taken the lion’s share of operations in their domain and the spread towards Asia. Other SHIELD divisions had managed to cobble together enough operatives without calling in the roaming 107 ^th , to be able to carry out Operation Tow Line around the world.

SHIELD-South America in particular had had an interesting dossier they put together, due to their very limited personnel on station. They had recruited through bribes; vagabonds and other individuals that no one suspected. So long as it was not traced to SHIELD, Philips gave that collection of unique individuals a ‘go’ for the operation.

Disabling the various ‘fialka’-identified sites on Michael’s map was the first step. Then, news would be monitored. If necessary, ‘news’ leaked through the soft information campaign that had been on-going since the announcement of the nuclear tests. Then came the final portion of the operation to take the portal – one that depended heavily on SHIELD-Engineering’s capabilities.

The time frame to execute all of it was small; the various casual commentary from Sam and Steve about how quickly information traveled in the 21 ^st century a part of why Peggy could not give SHIELD-Engineering an extension. Unit 616 would have a faster reaction than they were used to at this point in time. The analysts had given their results, from what happened during the mission to retrieve Sharon – it was inconclusive on how Unit 616 operated.

Peggy wasn’t certain if Unit 616 would expend resources to recover a crippled information network. SHIELD had to be prepared for anything.

Before they had left to participate in Operation Tow Line, Steve and Sam had begun to plan out possible alternatives. Nevertheless, the key still laid within the EMP being developed. Thus far, David’s status updates looked neither promising nor a failure.

“I wish I had a camera,” Sharon’s musing shook Peggy out of her drifting thoughts.

“Not allowed to use those gadgets, aren’t we, Peggy?” Alex facetiously asked. “Didn’t Stark give you a camera pen?”

“Mr. Stark did, and no, those ‘gadgets’ as you so fondly like to call them, are off limits for personal use,” she answered, smiling.

Sharon laughed. “I remember you telling me just after you retired that Stark had ‘tested’ the pen in a more adventurous manner. You still wouldn’t let me borrow it for my research, even though I told you it was for a historical project in high school.”

Peggy shook her head, a smile upon fond memories as Alex chuckled. Even Michael had cracked a faint grin at that. “Yes, and I am very thankful that my other self had some sense. You did pick another topic?”

“The Enigma machine,” Sharon answered. “Vanilla enough of a topic.”

“I sense a ‘but’ in that,” Michael quietly spoke up.

“Aunt Peggy almost got in trouble, because some dumbass adult in school thought she was breaking her silence. Bletchley Park work and all that,” Sharon stated, shaking her head slightly in exasperation. “They didn’t even bother to do basic research to see that most of the Enigma details were released in the seventies. What I presented was public knowledge, but because I was Aunt Peggy’s niece, they thought otherwise. Aunt Peggy set them straight, but we had to move back to the States after that. Even in retirement, she couldn’t catch a break.”

“That’s very unlucky for that to have happened,” Michael murmured.

“Is that where your call sign came from? Agent 13?” Alex asked.

“Agent 13?” Peggy questioned, curious.

“The ranking system for the top agents,” Sharon explained. “It was supposed to provide some anonymity over comm, and allow for interchangeability and retirement. Also, possibly a bit of competition to convince HR to change the ranking by sparring matches.”

Peggy noticed the slightly bitter smile that quirked up the edges of her lips. “Kids at school always bullied me for having no ‘real’ parents except for Aunt Peggy. They called me ‘unlucky’, among other things. I fought back. I chose ‘thirteen’, even though I’m not that rank. Fury allowed me to keep it.”

“I’m sorry that happened to you, Sharon,” Peggy couldn’t help but sympathize.

Her niece from another reality grinned. “You taught me to fight, first with words, then physically, if they ever tried to hurt me. I’ll never forget that.”

“If I may ask, what rank—” Alex began, but didn’t get to finish his question.

A waiter approached. “Ms. Carter?”

“Yes?” she asked.

The waiter handed her a small slip of paper. “Message delivered to the host.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking the paper.

The curious eyes of her family were on her, though Michael was the only one with a slightly disinterested look, preferring to focus on Alex and Sharon. Peggy briefly recalled that during one of the rare times she managed to have a meal with her brother during the war, he was constantly interrupted with ‘messages delivered to the host’.

She opened it: [Harold has eaten the flowers, again.]

“Ah,” was all she said, before folding the note and tucking it deep into a skirt pocket.

She glanced up and simply looked at her family. Without even a single word to any of them, she saw complete understanding in her eyes as to what had just happened. It was time to go back to work.

Operation Tow Line had just been executed.

* * *

SHIELD-Europe Headquarters, 16 hours after Operation Tow Line executed…

Steve engulfed Bucky in a tight embrace as soon as he stepped off the ramp; the strike team comprising of both Bucky of either timeline, along with Natasha the last to arrive back at the airfield.

“All right, hello Steve,” Bucky said, slight startled while patting him on the back in amusement.

Steve let go, and by sheer luck, managed to pull Natasha into an embrace before she was able to duck away. “Hey, Steve,” she chuckled.

Of Bucky from his original timeline, Steve embraced him last. He couldn’t help but laugh when he heard him wheeze rather unconvincingly.

“I can’t breathe, Steve,” Bucky jokingly lied.

“You guys are six hours late,” he said, as he let go and stepped back.

He didn’t have the heart to put any heat into his admonishment; simply glad that they were returned safe and sound. The rendezvous time had been explicit, due to the need for SHIELD to remain undercover to avoid possible detection by Unit 616 agents trained in for operations in this reality.

Agents had begun to return well before the timer expired. Two minutes before the expiration, the old, semi-shuttered army base that had been used as a staging point for many of the 107^th had phoned a Morse code message to the airfield. The message had not been encrypted, but only able to be understood by Steve and Sam.

Natasha had sent the message; referencing a very minor but memorable event that happened while the three of them and Wanda had been on the run. It didn’t tell Steve or Sam the state of their health, but it did tell them that the three were going to be late for the rendezvous.

“See, Labrador,” Bucky, silver-armed, stated, jerking a thumb at Steve. “Boisterous, fun-loving, and fearless.”

He gave the three of them a baffled look, especially when adamantium-armed Bucky was nodding. Even Sam, standing next to him, was giving them a bewildered look.

“Barnes boys declared me to be cat, Steve,” Natasha said, a rather cat-like grin upon her face.

“You are one,” Sam stubbornly agreed.

“Well, that must have been some trip to get back then,” Steve answered, deciding to leave his friends’ rather strange way to pass time – wherever they had been temporarily stuck – alone. “If there’s no problems to report, go get cleaned up. I’ll let Peggy and the others know.”

“Nothing to report except that the place is cinders, Steve,” silver-armed Bucky stated.

“You’re naturally a bird, Wilson. But not a falcon,” Natasha winked, a rather smarmy smile upon her lips. Then, she walked away.

“Uh… what bird?” Sam asked, calling after her.

She didn’t answer. Steve merely shook her head, placed a hand on Sam’s shoulder and turned him around when both Bucky headed to the lockers. The two of them returned to where Peggy and a few other SHIELD personnel were waiting.

Among them was Michael, with a blank map of the world. The one that contained the marked locations of all locations of the Red Room network was at SHIELD. The map out here was to quickly respond to any and all trouble that any who carried out Operation Tow Line – rather than drive back to headquarters, then return.

Steve’s eidetic memory helped in mapping all invisible locations. Due to his and Sam’s distinctive fighting styles, he and Sam had deployed to the severely isolated site on the Baltic Sea. It had been difficult, but they had completed the operation without the use of their armors or shields.

“No problem,” Steve stated.

“Good,” Peggy said. “Nothing announced yet, though we’ve picked up chatter from Six and other allied agencies. Let’s pack up and go home. We can brief there.”

~~~

Bucky wicked away the last droplets of water from his body and made his way to the lockers. The place was empty; his counterpart had cleaned up faster than he did, and left.

It was not like the first time they had mirrored each others’ actions after the Siberian rescue. Bucky had also deliberately taken his time in cleaning up – just to see what would happen. And yet, he was half-way dressed before he realized that he had forgotten to shave.

The resonance between him and his counterpart hummed, but it was not full of pain or misery. Rather it had been a kind of happiness that came with a successful mission complete; enough for him to forget a few of the basic comforts he typically did after a mission.

Additionally, Bucky could feel the barest hints of an even brighter burst of happiness and desire that laid strictly within his counterpart. He hadn’t even needed a visual confirmation; the localized, heavily encrypted comm line shared between the three of them during their mission said it all.

Romanov was a very attractive woman; Bucky was not going to deny that. But, given their history as tools of the Soviet regime and HYDRA, there was nothing that could repair the gulf that stood between them. Even the burst memory of giving Romanov’s younger self a cookie in that Soviet commissary hall did not bridge such a painful gap.

But, ever since Romanov had kissed his counterpart after that battle against the multiple Thanos, one had to be incredibly dense to not see the attraction between the two. Bucky was glad, and strangely not jealous of his counterpart and Romanov having such a close relationship.

Even without the echoes of conditioning here in this reality, they worked quite well together. But, he had wished that the resonance hadn’t amplified such emotions during the mission. Since that resonance that briefly created a portal, it had been difficult to keep the mental wall that diverted the more problematic flow of the resonance, going.

He supposed that using the ecstatic buzz helped. It was a good exercise to separate his own proud feelings for completing the mission without resorting to plunging fully back into the persona of his reality’s Winter Soldier.

His mission had not been just to help the pair destroy the facility next to the hydro-electric plant, but to also secretly and ‘spike the network’. The facility had been a combination of listening post, analyses center, and had been on its way to become a key base of operations for Soviet espionage activities. Unit 616 had expanded it quite significantly since they had taken over.

The technology used was not of SHIELD make, but of Wakanda. Before he had departed Wakanda, he had been given the inter-reality communications device – ostensibly to help with his research and thesis for his first doctorate. The messages exchanged during the time it had been used had also been given to him, separately.

That device had been used between him and another counterpart in the reality he and Steve had been transported into shortly after the fight against Stark at the silo had ended. It was now repurposed for usage here.

Considering just how closely guarded Wakanda kept their secrets, he was certain that Unit 616 did not have access, or the knowledge to break into such technology. The device had been modified so that if the embedded transmitter piece was discovered, only a tiny portion of the tech could potentially be re-engineered.

The continued inability of SHIELD to move without Unit 616 getting wind was a hindrance. This had been the first step in his agreement with Carter to free SHIELD from scrutiny – in the multiple steps still needed before SHIELD Engineering could finish their EMP – and to subvert Unit 616. Carter had the receiver; the ‘fialka’ all but useless now that Carter had exposed all hidden Red Room networks sites.

At the sink, Bucky placed the razor down; the brief detachment and analyses of the mission and it’s background helping him rebuild the barriers, and divert most of his counterpart’s elation to allow for quiet. Steve’s hearty embrace helped – its meaning deeply personal to him, that it couldn’t be compared to whatever Steve and his counterpart had in this reality.

Bucky turned on the water and plunged his cupped hands into the cold stream. He splashed his face a few times. Then, he inexplicably splashed his face a few more times – until it felt like he was drowning. It was the only way he could try to get rid of the sudden melancholic feeling that threatened to overwhelm him and bleed directly through the resonance.

He stared at the running water for a few seconds, before his eyes strayed to his skeletal black, metal left hand. Droplets dripped into the sink like the rain that day…

… the day Steve Rogers – returned in old age and having lived a full life – died in his reality. The world mourned, thinking that he had died of his injuries similar to Stark. Bucky just remembered the heavens even opening up in their sorrow as he stood next to the closed casket. Everything else had been thankfully lost to the blur of—

A hand appeared in the corner of his vision, turning the faucet off. Moments later, that same warm hand curled on top of his right that gripped the side of the sink with ferocity.

Hesitancy was clear in the touch and action. Bucky blinked, and looked up and over. Carter was unexpectedly standing next to the sink, expression a most unusual one that he had never seen before – genuine concern.

He would have thought Steve to stand where Carter stood, but realized that it wouldn’t be quite as so. Steve had his own life here – still had his life to live out. Steve in his reality was dead, had lived a full life.

There was only one reason why Carter was here; confirmation that the network spike was implanted.

“It’s done,” he quietly stated.

There was no acknowledgment to his statement. Instead, Carter’s eyes searched his face, similar to his memories of Steve performing the same action. “You’re in a fugue, aren’t you?”

“No,” he answered. “Just remembering some things.”

Silence answered Bucky, then Carter unexpectedly whispered in Russian, “<I cannot but remember such things were, that were most precious to me.>”

Love looks not with the eyes, but with the mind, and therefore is winged Cupid painted blind.

“Shakespeare,” he murmured. He didn’t know where the sudden quote from ‘A Midsummer Night's Dream’ came from – in Russian no less – but he heard it in memories. Spoken in Carter’s voice.

“You remember?”

Bucky shook his head, and glanced down at the sink. His still wet face was dripping down his front, soaking droplets into his undershirt

“In medias res. I only remember you quoting Shakespeare in Russian – just as you did now.”

“Ah,” Carter answered.

That hand of his was removed, but rather than drop to the side, those fingers lightly curled under his loosened right hand grip on the sink. Bucky couldn't quite figure out why the hairs on the nape of his neck were standing up – not in fear, but strangely in a feeling he had not felt for a very long time.

“What are you—” he began, as he looked up, but never finished his question.

His vision was suddenly filled with a closeness that he did not expect, and was quickly followed by soft, warm lips briefly enveloping his own. As quickly as it had happened, it ended just as fast – with Bucky rooted to the spot, as he blinked once—twice.

He almost forgot to breathe.

It was only the second, “Sorry,” from Michael that Bucky finally managed to partially shake himself out of his stupor.

“Of all the memories, that was the only one those monsters never took from me, the only one where I acted on impulse, on a whim, and of my own free will,” Michael said, bitterness in his tone. “Thank you, for returning home safe, Bucky.”

By the time Bucky managed to completely shake himself out of his stupor, Peggy's brother had already left. He stared at the door in which Michael had walked through, before lifting his right hand up. He stared at it, as if it were the most foreign thing he had ever seen.

That lightly, comforting touch of concern – that one simple gesture was—

“Hey, man. You all right?”

Sam’s slap on his back jolted Bucky out of his staring at the closed door, while calming down the equally strange fluttering within his stomach. He blinked several times, the last few seconds – minute – rushing back to him.

“Michael didn’t do anything to you to trigger bad memories, did he?”

Bucky silently shook his head. “He kissed me.”

“Okay—wait what?” Sam squawked.

Bucky gave his friend a look.

Sam said, “It’s fine. I got no issues if you swing both ways. But, why? Why did he kiss you? Thought he hated you… or rather your counterpart’s guts. It wasn’t to knock you out with some hidden lipstick chemical was it—”

Bucky gave him an incredulous look. “Super soldier here, Sam. You know it takes more than just some knock-out lipstick to take me down.”

“Look, Bucky,” Sam said, tone serious. “I know laws here are a little more than backwards and all, but if Carter kissed you without your consent, that’s technically assault. Do you want me to report it on your behalf to Peggy? She seems like a pretty progressive, open-minded woman who will listen to her subordinates, and take serious action against perpetrators.”

“No, but thanks, Sam,” Bucky said, finally taking the towel that had been hanging on his shoulder up and patted his face dry. “He apologized.”

Bucky thought he was missing something significant with the look that Sam gave him, but did not mention what else Carter had told him after that stunningly bold action. He also may have neglected to mention that that single action had brought on a cascading rush of memories.

None affected his and his counterpart’s resonance, but every single one of those reclaimed memories felt incredibly bittersweet.

He could help but feel that this was Carter’s way of telling him why he had left; torn a hole in Peggy, Steve, and most of all, Bucky’s counterpart’s lives here. There had been no ‘death of personality’. Only a facade to mask the agony of how much mistrust there had been between all of them, escalating until it turned into betrayal.

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Merchant/Купеческий

Whether he learned to read a small amount of short-hand Red Room signals through osmosis with his counterpart via resonance, or otherwise, the signal for ‘meet in one hour’ that Natasha had given him earlier was quite vague on the actual location.

It wasn’t until he felt a tiny bleed of frustration through the resonance from his counterpart that he realized where Natasha intended the secret gathering to be. ‘Tracking’ wasn’t quite the word, but Bucky emerged up to the rooftop to see nothing – yet the resonance was still telling him that he was close.

Then, the air about fifty feet before him rippled and melted away. A ramp up into the familiar interior of the quinjet opened. Bucky couldn’t help but look curiously around; the rest of the aircraft except for the ramp and whatever could be seen from the inside, exposed. Nothing else could be seen – not even a faint outline of the aircraft.

Bucky climbed up the ramp, the clang of something being hammered or broken off within the aircraft ringing. The panel near the threshold between the cockpit and the cargo hold was open.

He heard Natasha’s voice floating out of the cockpit, asking, “So when’s your thesis defense, Barnes?”

“In three weeks and two days,” came the faint answer from the cargo hold below.

Bucky noticed that there was a tiny device on what looked like rubber stoppers next to the bulkhead, projecting a hardlight document. He wondered if it was the aforementioned thesis.

“Got a contingency plan if we’re not back in time?”

“No.” Whatever else was said was briefly enveloped by a few more loud clangs coming from within the aircraft. “Just gonna reschedule. Shuri wants the data from this arm anyways, so she’ll be able to convince the committee.”

Moments later, something charred and twisted metal looking flew up from the cargo hold’s hole within the flooring. Bucky stepped to the side as the charred object rolled slightly down the cargo hold and stopped. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw the Wolf Spider walk up the ramp, stopping mid-way to curiously look at the twisted piece of whatever it had been within the quinjet.

“Got it,” Bucky heard his counterpart state, still somewhere within the belly of the quinjet. “Try it now, Red.”

The sound of switches flipping and a couple of dials being adjusted floated out from the cockpit door. Then, there was a brief hum that Bucky realized was the quinjet’s engine firing up. It sounded nothing like the choking, grating noise he had heard when they had been briefly stuck at the Siberian lake.

Then, his counterpart’s head and shoulders popped up from the cargo hold; patches of black grease in his hair. It was a slightly familiar look to Bucky, reminiscent of his memories of working in the Brooklyn Shipyards – particularly on the days where he had to crawl around the innards of a ship.

An assortment of tools came with his counterpart’s appearance, scattered messily around the hole. The brief look that his counterpart gave both to him and to the Wolf Spider was unreadable. Neither did Bucky feel a press of anything within the resonance – just continued quiet.

“Six hours at 100% thrust, less if the cloak is engaged,” Natasha said.

The hum died, as the engines were shut down. Bucky could only assume that whatever was cloaking this aircraft remained active. Seconds later, Natasha stood up and leaned against cockpit’s door.

“So enough to get to the site, but not cloak ourselves,” Bucky’s counterpart mused. “What if the cloak was only on the belly? This thing can fly higher than a U-2. The Blackbird probably isn’t even designed yet.”

“The U-2 was built in 1955. You’re probably a little early on that. HALO jumps typically take place between 15,000 and 35,000 feet, Barnes,” Natasha answered. “You’re talking about jumping at least twice that height.”

Curiosity got the better of Bucky. “Halo jumps?”

“High Altitude, Low Opening,” Natasha said. “It’s typically a night jump. You parachute from a reasonable height to get to terminal velocity, and open your chute at the last possible second. Best way for stealth insertion behind enemy lines. It’s actually quite fun.”

Her displeasure for the ridiculous height that his counterpart suggested, was made obvious the moment she stated ‘reasonable’. His counterpart merely shrugged, then turned his attention to the Wolf Spider.

“Information, Carter?”

Bucky frowned as the Wolf Spider produced a small object that looked similar to an Air Travel Card. Bucky had seen an Air Travel Card before, but he had never used one – or owned one. He much preferred to use cash.

Two taps on the object yielded a hardlight projection of a list of words, similar to what encryption machines produced. The Wolf Spider crouched and handed it to Bucky’s counterpart.

“It’s in a language that I don’t know.”

“It’s Xhosa,” Bucky heard his counterpart state, and took the object.

“Wait, is that the comm thing you had going on with your other counterpart in that other reality, Barnes?” Natasha asked.

“Yeah. It’s been repurposed.”

Even without the words stated out loud, Bucky realized that not only did his counterpart have a contingency plan, it had been executed without him or Natasha knowing about it. “That’s a spike into the compromised network, isn’t it?” he asked.

“Makes sense,” Natasha said, curiously looking at what Bucky’s counterpart was scrolling through. “The entire line of communications was dirty, and we’re still paralyzed here so long as Sharon is compromised, and we cannot confirm if Dr. Carter is among the compromised. We needed a way in.”

Had he have Steve’s sense of trustworthiness, he knew he would have questioned such a tactic. However, he understood the need to keep such a knowledge between two people until firmly established. He just wished it hadn’t been directly with the Wolf Spider.

“So what’s it say?” he asked instead.

There was no immediate answer, as both Bucky and his counterpart heard the footsteps climbing the stairwell, moments before the door to the rooftop creaked open.

“Peggy,” he said at the same time his counterpart also identified the gait.

“It’s not going to work,” his counterpart added, as the Wolf Spider made to close the ramp to seal the entire aircraft into the cloaking device.

Wolf Spider stood down, and a few seconds later, Peggy appeared at the foot of the ramp. Rather than an angry look that Bucky had expected, there was an unexpectedly serious, expectant look about her.

She climbed up the ramp, and hit the button to close it, encapsulating the five of them within the cargo hold. “How compromised is Alex, and do you have a contingency plan?” she asked.

~~~

“Steve.”

Steve looked up from his perusal of the 2012 information brick. Sam had taken a seat next to him, his voice low and tinged with some slight worry. There was no one else in the room; Sharon having gone with Dottie and Belova to the airfield.

A priority request for additional assistance from a SHIELD agent dealing with a 0-8-4 situation in the Italian Alps had necessitated Peggy pulling Dottie from the Siberian Portal taskforce. Whether it was in the agreement, or Belova just wanted to continue to breed goodwill, she had volunteered to go with Dottie. Peggy had allowed it; Sharon going to the airfield with the two women only to send the two off.

Though Sharon and Belova exchanged familial-like addresses towards each other – daughter and mother, respectively – Steve found it heartening that Sharon was given a chance to get to know some aspects of Belova. At present though, Sam’s sudden concern was making Steve a little worried.

“What’s the matter?” Steve asked.

“I’d ask Bucky, erm Agent… Bucky, about this, but given his testiness as of late, I don’t want to offend him,” Sam began. “I also don’t think he’ll tell me anyways. How bad was it, when Carter defected?”

Steve didn’t mean to huff out his slightly held breath, but it was enough for Sam to raise his eyebrows. “That bad?”

Steve shook his head. “Bucky slipped away from the facility before any of us were aware of it. I think he meant to confront Michael by himself. I don’t know what words were exchanged, but Bucky did attempt to kill him – pulled a gun and fired point blank, as far as I know. Michael had utilized some Asgardian hologram thing found near the same site as the Tesseract, so he survived. Turns out, he wasn’t even near Brooklyn when that happened. Peggy and I only got there to witness the aftermath.”

“Shit, man,” Sam said, shaking his head. Steve saw him briefly close his eyes and rub at his temples before opening them. “Bucky… I guess Sergeant Bucky, told me that Carter kissed him in the airfield’s lockers the day he, Nat, and his counterpart returned. He also told me that Carter immediately apologized for that.”

“Michael and Bucky had been together,” Steve softly confirmed. “But during Michael’s time in the Soviets, he never used that blackmail against Bucky. Neither did Bucky. Are you thinking something malicious may happen?”

It made Steve sad that he had to ask that question. But, his years spent after being on ice had shown him the harshness of the world, though he still wanted to believe the best in anyone. He was also well aware of how easily Bucky could have blackmailed Michael or vice versa.

To hear that Michael had approached and kissed Bucky, the one who did not have as contentious of a relationship as the one here… Steve could see where Sam’s concern came from; it was very unexpected.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, scrubbing his face with his hands. “Dude’s been though too much. I don’t know how to help him with this… this cross reality crush, or power move, or whatever Carter’s interest is, in him. I mean, yeah, it’d be rude of me to butt in, but with what happened here…”

“I hear you, Sam,” Steve said, understanding.

In every single date or relationship Bucky had had since their teen-aged years, Steve had seen Bucky happy. While Bucky did occasionally tell him the reason why he and the girl of the week or couple of weeks broke up, Bucky always seemed to rebound. He hadn’t thought of it much, enjoying the fact that Bucky almost always tried to include him on a double date with the girl’s friend.

Bucky and Michael’s extremely contentious break of their relationship was a tangled web that Steve really had not known how to deal with. Only that to help him recover, Steve and Peggy had carved out a place for Bucky. But, it had only been with Bucky here and now in this timeline.

Now, this…

With the short time they had caught up with each other, Steve knew that Bucky of his original timeline had tried online dating, but had not found someone yet. He hoped that Bucky would eventually find someone – if that was what Bucky truly wanted.

Steve clasped his hands together for a moment and rested them on the table. “I want to hope for the best, Sam,” he began. “If Bucky didn’t react in any other fashion against Michael, and just told you, I think he knows what he’s doing. I think the best either of us can do right now, is to just be there for either of them. Reaffirm. Reassure. Help either of them stand up. They’re human, just like the rest of us, and it’s human to make mistakes.”

Sam considered his words for a moment, then grinned. “Damn, man. When did you start being a wise counselor?”

Steve smiled. “I had a good teacher.”

~~~

“How compromised is Alex, and do you have a contingency plan?”

For a few seconds, silence answered her; Bucky not the only one giving her a baffled look. Even her brother was at a complete loss. Then, she crossed her arms over her chest, and tapped her foot impatiently.

“Oh come now,” Peggy began, slightly annoyed. “I know how you think, how you operate when that intuition of yours hones in on something off, Bucky.” Her sharp gaze swept over both Bucky and his counterpart. “Both of you.”

“Peg—” Bucky hesitatingly began, uncertain as to how exactly to respond.

“Sorry,” his counterpart quietly said at the same time.

In a softer, less confrontational tone, Peggy said, “When you’ve got Michael using his ‘room scanning’ ability nearly twenty-four hours a day, each day, and Agent Romanov reinforcing and helping as well, it’s something I cannot dismiss. No matter how much I want to.”

“Guess we weren’t as subtle,” Natasha said.

“You were… you still are,” Peggy said. “I’ll admit, it took me a very long time to realize what the four of you were doing.”

“But, if you’re able to figure it out, that means we’re about to be blown,” Bucky stated.

Peggy nodded. “Temporarily parking an invisible quinjet on my building’s rooftop doesn’t help, even though it is fascinating.”

“Ma’am… we don’t quite have a contingency plan yet,” Natasha admitted. “We—” she pointed to Bucky’s counterpart and herself “—thought that dropping in from a high altitude and clearing an LZ may be better than utilizing the EMP. But, that plan may have to be scrapped, due to just how damaged the quinjet is.”

Peggy nodded, thoughtful. “And how compromised is Alex?”

“It’s both Alex and Sharon,” the Wolf Spider spoke up. “Sharon was more recently turned – in the last few days. We don’t know the extent of their compromised status, yet.”

Dismay was as clear as day on Peggy’s expression. “How?”

“We’re not sure,” Natasha answered.

She pointed to the device that Bucky’s counterpart was holding. Rather than remain partially in the cargo hold, his counterpart climbed up, secured the hole, and held up the device.

“Barnes spiked their network, we’re starting to receive unfiltered chatter.”

“So this EMP plan, the entire disabling of the Red Room network…” Peggy began, unfolding her arms and leaning slightly forward to poke at the hardlight projection.

“Unit 616 more than likely knows what Alex knows or has heard, even before we rescued Agent Carter,” Bucky stated, confirming Peggy’s worries. “I know you’re trying to avoid being the same kind of SHIELD in Steve’s original timeline, but I think we may need to rethink short-term strategy and implementation. Compartmentalization wasn’t fully established with that 2012 information brick. They know from David’s discussion on resonance, and subsequent discussions that we’re coming in less than a week-and-a-half.”

“That’s on me then,” Peggy admitted the fault.

The fact that SHIELD-Europe had possibly been operating with a mole within their ranks since Alex’s mysterious return was chilling. The how of Alex turning Sharon in less than a few days was even more alarming to Bucky.

Proof of any evidence was incredibly scarce; Bucky hoped that the network spike was able to provide some things – communications details or even just someone on Unit 616 slipping up. If HYDRA was able to discover and purge parts of Unit 616 to maintain their own control of the world, then SHIELD here had to be as vigilant, if not more.

They could not let HYDRA take root here again.

“How are Alex or Sharon communicating to the outside though?” Peggy continued after a moment. “RF analysts have not picked up any unusual signals – other than the ‘fialka’. Neither have Security – and we’ve patched the holes after your little midnight excursion, Bucky.”

That last comment was directed at his counterpart. Bucky shot his counterpart a slightly puzzled look, to which it was returned with equally dry one. Both he and Steve had helped with the security design and implementation – modeled after the Brooklyn SSR building. However, he supposed that considering his and his counterpart’s shared history, a few tweaks had to happen.

“Apart from the hours where I can only presume they are both sleeping, neither had had the chance to verbally communicate with each other. They were not alone during waking hours, nor were they near Engineering during Operation Tow Line,” Wolf Spider stated.

“Was that all for show then, Michael? Dinner? Getting to know them?” Peggy asked. Bucky heard her valiant attempt to keep her heartbreak from coloring her tone.

The Wolf Spider didn’t answer her questions. “However, you don’t need verbal communication to pass messages,” he said instead. “Short hand can be done. I have not observed them using Red Room signals.”

Peggy didn’t speak for a few long moments, composing herself. Then, she asked, “How short?”

The Wolf Spider held up his hands for a moment, then flicked his right ring finger ever so slightly down. “That was short-hand for ‘we’re taking too long’.”

“No one is coming up the stairwell yet, Carter,” Bucky heard his counterpart say. “I’ve also found something.”

Bucky watched as his counterpart did something to the device. From the angle he could see, it seemed to contain a what seemed like a continuous script that secretly recorded or transcribed pieces of information captured through the network. The hardlight projection was expanded, and what was displayed was a fragment of what seemed like an audio pick up – translated to English from Xhosa.

Person A: Why do our orders almost always come in the afternoon? It doesn’t make sense.

Person B: It’s because the Doctor is elsewhere. I heard a rumor that he needs to be asleep in order to spy.

Person A: What, like one of those tele… tele-whatever thingies?

Person B: Telepaths?

Person A: Yeah, those people who can read minds.

Person B: Well, he was in SHIELD since 1970. Who the hell knows what HYDRA did to their own people back then. Rumor has it that he ran into a 0-8-4 before those sods in the World Council recruited him into SHIELD. Probably why he was able to create a portal to this place.

Person A: How’d you know all this?

Person B: Dude, it’s in all those files that Black Widow released in 2014. If you got time to decrypt files, you can literally find out what he’s done before hell went into a hand basket for all of us. Apparently HYDRA screwed the pooch for us back in ‘89.

Person A: Does it look like I have time? When I get off this shift, I’m gonna have to go babysit those chemists for another six hours before I’m allowed to get some rack time.

Person B: Fuck, they’re not finished with that formula yet? Fucking Black Widow is here, and you know what she did to Dreykov and the Red Room in 2016, right? The fuck are those fuckers doing?! We cannot have another failure like Dreykov.

Person A: What are you yelling at me for? None of this explains why orders come in the afternoon. You’d think the Doctor would just you know… peek in at a more normal time for us.

“Shit,” was all Natasha said.

She strode over to the starboard bulkhead and pressed on a point. A compartment popped out; accompanying it, a cold breeze and condensed fog. Something bright and glowing pink was within the compartment. Natasha fished out something and closed the compartment, returning to them.

During that time, Bucky saw his counterpart return the device to the Wolf Spider, the projection minimized. Natasha opened her hand to show two glowing pink vials of that looked partially fluid, partially gaseous.

“This is the antidote for Sharon,” she stated. “Given that we have very little knowledge of what resonance can do other than push or pull memories, this also might disrupt the connection between Alex Carter of our reality, and this reality’s Alex Carter.”

“How do you know it will work on Sharon?” Peggy questioned.

Uncharacteristic hesitation flashed across Natasha’s expression.

“Because…” she began, as if choosing her words very carefully, which was definitely not like her. “Between the fall of the Soviet Union and my defection in late 2007, Maxim Dreykov recreated the Red Room. All candidates were the discarded leftovers of a world whom didn’t want them – girls, women.”

“He took the failures of the original Black Widow Program, Wolf Spider Project, and Winter Soldier Program, learned from them, and created the perfect infiltrators, assassins, and saboteurs, waiting for that one order to execute. Dreykov was supposed to have died in Budapest in 2007; a condition of my defection to SHIELD. For a while I had thought he was dead.”

“The Red Room continued. Melina Vostokoff helped him – created the chemical formula to control them. The antidote came into my possession by the way of a sister who had been freed, in 2016.

“During this time, Sharon lent me a hand. Melina saw the errors of her way, and helped destroy the Red Room. Since then, she, along with my sisters and I have been hunting for the remaining Widows. It looks like they’re rebuilding here, and they don’t have a new formula ready. Which means, that if there are Red Widows in Unit 616, this antidote should work on them – Sharon included.”

If Bucky hadn’t already felt the chill crawling down his spine at the fact that this had happened in Steve’s reality, the fact that Unit 616 was able to start fresh here was even more chilling. It made the coup Unit 616 had instigated on the Soviet leadership and control seemed like cakewalk.

“Where was Steve or Sam in all this?” his counterpart broke the uncomfortable silence.

“Initially? Steve was with you in that other reality, Barnes. Sam was locked in the Raft,” Natasha answered. “Afterwards… it was something I had to clean up. My responsibility. Just like what you did with your Program.”

Bucky saw his counterpart nod, and did not press any further.

“If resonance can create a portal, and functions on the push or pull of memories from one to another, will a disruption between our Alex and your Alex possibly close it?” Peggy asked.

Bucky glanced at his counterpart, then at Natasha – shrugging. They were completely in the dark about this. He also did not want to experience such an agonizing resonance episode again, even though it seemed like a spontaneous event.

Natalie was back in the States, or wherever the rest of his family lived now. There had already been some observable data points on resonance – namely distance did help. But, that was also not a complete picture; the transcript of the chatter clearly proving that distance was negated with someone who knew how to manipulate a resonance.

“Sharon might give us better insight into how it works, or not,” Natasha suggested.

Peggy nodded, pursing her lips for a moment as she considered the choices and what laid ahead. “All right. I do hope you’re right about Sharon and that formula you have. I’ll leave it up to your discretion as to when to carry it out, but I ask that you be discreet about it. In the meantime, I’ll begin to implement some internal security changes and accesses. And see if there are any alternatives Engineering can come up with.”

“Isolate Sharon from Alex then,” Natasha said, nodding. “And Engineering if all possible.”

“Easier said than done, but you’ll get more notice than was allotted in prior operations similar to this, Chief Carter,” Wolf Spider coldly stated.

“Hey—!” Bucky growled, angry at just how heartless and hurtful Wolf Spider was being to his own family; Peggy barely had anything to do with Wolf Spider’s defection to the Soviets, and his subsequent return.

“Agent, it’s fine,” Peggy said.

Her tone was of the utmost professional, calm, and collected when she addressed the Wolf Spider. “Then per the agreement, if you’ve any suggestions going forward on counterintelligence matters, please have them on my desk by midnight tonight.”

The Wolf Spider nodded once. Peggy then went to the end of the cargo hold and pushed the button to open the ramp. Bucky went with her, his limit reached when it came to spending time around the Wolf Spider.

The rooftop was still empty; like his counterpart, Bucky had not heard any footsteps coming up it while they had been enclosed within the quinjet. As he caught up with Peggy, he saw her sag slightly, and looped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

She gave him a brave, but still slightly watery smile. Nothing was said between them, but it was enough.

~~~

“You got grease in your hair, Barnes,” Romanov breezily stated. “Rags are on the port, middle bulkhead compartment. Please don’t be like Sam, and properly put the tools away. I’ll go let James know that he needs to keep Steve and Sam away when this all goes down with Sharon.”

“Glad to know I’m not the only one annoyed whenever he does that,” Bucky muttered. Romanov tossed him the disc to shrink the quinjet once he cleaned up what he had done within the cargo hold.

Romanov left without another word. Bucky wasn’t sure why Carter remained behind, but went about his business in returning the tools to their proper places. He was well aware of eyes tracking his every movement; though not maliciously – just strangely curious.

“One of the African nations built this didn’t they?” Carter asked after a few minutes of silence that was only broke by Bucky’s placement of tools back in trays.

Bucky didn’t answer. Wakanda was known to everyone in his reality, but not here. He was not going to instigate some kind of unwarranted invasion against the nation and its people whom had saved his life, here.

He picked up the small drive that contained his academic and practical research and pocketed it. Then, he went to go pick up the charred piece that had been fried when the EMP had hit the quinjet during their Siberian escape. When he turned around, Carter was briefly tapping the receiver against a hand.

“What’s it like, living as an ordinary citizen of in your reality?”

Bucky went over to where Romanov had indicated the rags were, and saw something that looked like a waste-rag bin below the tray. He dumped the charred piece into it, and took a rag and what looked like dry shampoo.

“For the most part, quiet,” he answered, dumping dry shampoo onto the rag. “Doesn’t mean that there are bad days or weeks. People are still fighting people, ideologies still clash against rhetoric. Half of the Earth’s population got blipped and they all came back at once. That’s been the largest knot tying up countries since they’ve returned – resettlement and readjusting to a world that had moved on without them.”

It was not quite and admission of what he himself had to do when Steve chose to go back in time, but neither was he going to varnish the truth. Bucky knew he had been lucky with the help he had received.

He rubbed at his hair for a few minutes, trying to get as much grease out of it as possible. Dumping the dirty rag into the bin, he took another and a smaller helping of dry shampoo, but paused as Carter pocketed the receiver.

“How do you live with it, with those commands stuck rattling around in your head?” Carter asked.

Bucky didn’t immediately answer. He rubbed at his hair once again, the last of the grease getting caught up into the rag. Dumping the rag into the bin, he closed the compartment.

“That’s a question for my counterpart, Carter,” he said. “Not me.”

The turncoat spy’s eyes widened in shock, instantly understanding what he was not saying out loud. Bucky went into the cockpit and flipped a few switches to set the timer on the cloaking mechanism to fall.

Then, he returned to the cargo hold and walked past him and down the ramp. He heard him follow.

Bucky hit the button to close the ramp, and soon, the interior of the quinjet was swallowed by the cloak. Ten seconds later, there was a ripple within the air, and Bucky threw the disc at it, just as the cloak dropped. The quinjet shrunk before one could blink an eye and actually see it.

He went over and picked up the tiny thing, pocketing it to return to Romanov later. Turning around, it was apparent that Carter still did not believe that he had had the infernal commands removed.

“Do you think your friends who did that for you, could do that for me?”

Bucky sighed and rubbed at his hair, trying to flatten it. He absolutely hated dry shampoo, but considering that they could not have Alex Carter suspect anything amiss, he had to use it. He just got lucky on not getting grease on himself anywhere else.

“Don’t know. But they’d probably consider it if you weren’t being such a jerk.”

He didn’t let Carter protest, even though the blunt truth was harsh. “You want to make amends, you gotta start here. As far as I can tell, Peggy didn’t do anything to you; she doesn’t deserve your ire or hatred.”

“She didn’t believe me,” Carter stated, eyes flashing with anger. “My own sister didn’t even believe me. You. You had Steve, even when you were at your worst. Me? I had nothing.”

“Really?” Bucky doubted. “Then what the hell were these past four years about? She chose neutrality and humanity, rather than align herself with any government or country. She didn’t want to start a war against you. You, you fucking sided with a country – people who are controlled by an agenda of this own interests.”

“She was there for you, whether or not you want to believe that, Carter. She welcomed you back here, agreed to your terms, and even gave you the liberty to assist her with counterintelligence. Safeguarding those within SHIELD. Was what you did for the past four years of your life worth it?”

Carter didn’t answer; a poleaxed expression upon him. Bucky walked past him and headed towards the door.

“Jame—Bucky.”

Bucky stopped, dropping his hand from the door handle. Turning slightly around, he saw Carter’s conflicted expression, a hint of remorse coloring it. There was nothing in those bittersweet memories of his that could recall ever seeing such a vulnerable state from him.

“May… may I still call you that?”

Bucky glanced down at his right hand, before looking back up. “Why did you kiss me that other day?”

“Because you’re to me, what Romanov is to this reality’s Winter Soldier. Someone without the gulf of history that cannot be bridged. Someone that perhaps, if given a chance, may be able to allow me to start anew. A different life, a different possibility. Not a replacement, but what really should have been.”

“A second chance.”

Carter nodded.

Bucky considered his words. He didn’t find it strange that Romanov had a fairly well-concealed romantic interest in his counterpart and not him. She had never let it affect their own working relationship, treating as if he and his counterpart were separate, individual people.

Most wouldn’t have ever seen that, lumping them together. Carter had initially was a part of that group, but Bucky could only suppose that the more they remained, the more wholly different he and his counterpart appeared to others. Many agents were now greeting them by rank, if only just to make sure they didn’t call them by name and expect answers from one or the other.

“Romanov is not staying,” he quietly stated.

Carter had given no overt indication that he wanted to cross over, other than the question of what it was like, living in the ‘future’. Even without the bittersweet memories, Bucky wasn’t sure if he wanted to attempt to cross the same line Romanov had done, knowing that it would just simply end the moment the portal closed.

“I know,” Carter answered. “Your reality… it’s a beautiful chaos. Steve painted it as so when he showed us what he had been through, using the Reality Stone. It seems difficult to find a quiet life there.”

Bucky didn’t answer that; it was true in a sense. Earth had been catapulted to the galactic stage, and while the lives of most ordinary citizens did remain quiet, it was no longer a guarantee.

“Then what do you want with me?”

Carter didn’t immediately answer. When he did, it was to a melancholic tone, “To say that I’m sorry. I betrayed your mission in the Alps to my Soviet handlers. I betrayed you when I had promised that I wouldn’t. Ivchenko’s ring only did so much. The rest was of my own free will.”

“And everything after that?” Bucky asked, hand on the door handle again.

“I didn’t know that they were going to do that to you,” Carter quietly said. “Turn you into a living weapon. I’m eternally grateful that Steve rescued us in this timeline.”

Bucky turned the handle on the door and opened it just a crack. He was not surprised to see his counterpart standing at the top most stair, and leaning against the railing within the stairwell – having been listening in.

It wasn’t a hum of anger that pulsed through their resonance, but one of disappointment, swirling with remorse, sorrow, and hurt. One mistake, out of so many – so many others.

He turned his attention back onto Carter. “The earliest memory I recovered was the first time I was ‘activated’. They pulled you in as a test; unkempt, dirty, emaciated, but still recognizable under all that. Asked me if I recognized you. You were crying. And I answered: <Ready to comply.>”

Bucky pulled the door further open, and his counterpart stepped back out onto the rooftop. “That was 1947.”

It always made Bucky slightly uncomfortable to see a grown man collapse and cry. Yet, he had seen it countless of times in the battlefield. But, seeing Michael Carter catch a glimpse of what must have been mirrored expressions upon both Bucky and his counterpart was enough to send him into apology.

The gift of a second life to live from Steve was a precious one that shouldn’t have been wasted by either his counterpart or by Carter.

“I’m sorry… sorry,” Carter sobbed.

Bucky watched as his counterpart carefully, gingerly, approached and crouched down. There was no attempt to pick Carter up or embrace him. However, he saw his counterpart reach out and gently lay his flesh-and-blood hand upon Carter’s back.

“I’m… sorry, too.”

There was no forgiveness exchanged; there would never be. But there was, at least a small measure of peace, between his counterpart here and Michael Carter. Bucky thought that perhaps that was enough – for now.

It took Carter a few minutes to calm down; neither Bucky or his counterpart rushed him. But, like Bucky himself, Carter realized that Bucky’s counterpart had returned to the rooftop not just to listen in, but for something else.

“Something happened?” Carter asked, sniffling.

Bucky didn’t have a handkerchief on him; it was something he no longer carried. His counterpart had one though, and handed it to Carter. The man wiped at his eyes and nose, looking at a little better and more composed.

Bucky stepped in and helped him up.

“Natalia is executing the plan tonight,” his counterpart began without preamble, as Carter stuffed the handkerchief back into a pocket with a murmured promise to return it later. “Agent Carter is currently at the airfield seeing her ‘mother’ off on a mission with Underwood.”

Bucky frowned. “She’s still calling Belova her ‘mother’?”

“She started to call her that after learning that Yelena was alive right here and now,” Carter answered. “I can only assume Sharon’s initial investigation into this Unit 616 brought her closer to her deceased mother, and a chance to get to know her better here. Is that a problem?”

“Shouldn’t be,” Bucky answered. “It’s just slightly odd to me, and not typical of behavior that I recall in what little memories I have of other Widows.”

He shook his head slightly. “Regardless, it gives us time to plan. Where’s Dr. Carter?”

“Medical,” his counterpart answered. “Thank God Engineering has locked themselves down for the past few days – no one except those authorized by the Chief Engineer are allowed in. Security has been enforcing the punch card and sign-in sheet as well. Alex’s name isn’t on the roster.”

“Not a guarantee that he hasn’t tried or already taken a look,” Carter muttered. “If either of you can, keep him there until I complete the report for Peggy.”

“You called her ‘Peggy’,” his counterpart began.

“Will do,” Bucky said at the same time.

He shook his head at his counterpart, while making it quite clear through their resonance that he was slightly annoyed at him. They had all been through enough; and while there wasn’t going to be forgiveness between his counterpart and Carter, the wound had already been rubbed with enough salt. He opened the door to the stairwell again.

Carter didn’t answer the slight jibe, but did follow Bucky down the stairs. His counterpart was the last to follow.

“Underwood’s desk is open to use, but don’t touch anything on or in there, Carter,” his counterpart stated. “She’s territorial about whatever knickknacks she has stored there.”

“Noted.”

* * *

Later…

“What, Steve?”

Steve colored slightly at the twin exasperated tones of Bucky, while Sam chuckled. Both Bucky had stated that at the same time, in the same tone, with nearly identical expressions leveled directly at him.

The table was littered with maps of all shapes and sizes. Weighty, metal chess pieces borrowed from one of the agents who kept a set at her desk, were used partially as both paperweights, and denoted estimated areas of control Unit 616 had were scattered across the maps. Leftover takeout boxes from lunch were stacked up against the trash bin within the room.

Steve himself, along with Sam, and Bucky of both timelines had been working on strategic and tactical plans for the better part of the day. It had been quite a long time since Steve had done such a kind of planning for a large-scale covert operation; the last one being the time-heist upon the Infinity Stones.

Of his time in SHIELD and the Avengers in the original reality, they were more tactical ones – pinpoint in the target and objective. He was fortunate that Sam had a lot more recent experience, even if it was vague mentions of what he did as a consultant with the Air Force.

He had been even more glad that both Bucky had joined the two of them in planning. The atmosphere had felt similar to the times where Bucky looked over maps with him during the war. Comforting and reassuring.

“You two all right?” Steve asked at present, expression turning serious.

It wasn’t that either of them contributed to the planning, but he sensed some great reluctance from both. Whether it was the resonance thing shared between them, or not, there was hesitancy where Steve – and even Sam – was not used to seeing.

It didn’t help that he had briefly seen both of them briefly accompanying Michael earlier, before adamantium-armed Bucky had split off to go somewhere else, while silver-armed Bucky joined him and Sam in the room. That was not before silver-armed Bucky had specifically pointed to Dottie’s temporarily open desk – clearly directing Michael there.

Michael had spent the better part of of an hour or so typing out something at Dottie’s desk, before taking whatever it was elsewhere. The strangest thing was not just Bucky not reacting to Michael’s departure, but that an hour later, Peggy and Michael emerged from the elevator, talking – cordially.

It was reminiscent of the dynamic Steve remembered seeing during the war – when Michael had been SOE and working with the SSR. Brother and sister looked as if whatever tension had been there since Michael’s defection, was almost gone.

They had disappeared to elsewhere in the building, but the sight heartened Steve. Sharon had also returned from the airfield, but did not join him, Sam, and Bucky in the planning room. Natasha had ‘intercepted’ her – citing permission from Peggy to use the training room, and wanted to engage in some ‘girl talk’ with Sharon.

Sam had merely gave the two humorously skeptical look, but didn’t seem to mind. Steve would have liked for the two to contribute, but there was no immediate need. He, Sam, and Bucky had been spitballing ideas from mundane and practical (Sam) to absolutely crazy ones (Bucky) for the past few hours.

Adamantium-armed Bucky had joined them about a half-hour later. That was when Steve started to truly notice that both of them were oddly hesitant. Not to mention that both their strategic and tactical suggestions were getting more and more absurd as the day wore on.

Silver-armed Bucky looked over at his counterpart. “Told you throwing out war elephants into the mix was stupid.”

“Obviously you haven’t considered that Mûmakil are terrifying,” adamantium-armed Bucky stated, dryly.

“Oh for fuc…” Sam began, sliding his head into his hand. “You recently watched Jackson’s trilogy, didn’t you?”

“All six, actually,” adamantium-armed Bucky answered, grinning. “Good effects. I definitely liked how Jackson interpreted Pelennor Fields. The Hobbit… eh. No need to have made it into a trilogy.”

“There’s movies about The Lord of the Rings?” silver-armed Bucky asked, disbelieving yet excited.

Steve was amused, but at the same time exasperated. He had seen all six movies as well, courtesy of Sam and Natasha’s rather illegal bootlegs while on the run. And now, he recognized some of the rather absurd plans – or rather where they had been inspired by.

“Really, Bucky? Both of you? You’re both trying to strategically and tactically plan an invasion into Unit 616 territory using a fantasy book and movie series?”

“You were always better at strategy than either of us were, Steve,” Bucky, adamantium-armed, stated. “Figured you and Sam could come up with better way get into the site. You just have to point us in the right direction to go.”

“Still,” silver-armed Bucky said, poking the trio of pawns they that they had used to mark the portal. “I concede. It would have been absolutely hilarious to see HYDRA react to SHIELD charging in on war elephants.”

Steve groaned.

~~~

Peggy wondered what had happened on that rooftop that transformed her brother. She was quite certain that it was either Natasha or black-armed Bucky who had finally got through to Michael; her hunch pointing more to Bucky than Natasha.

Earlier, he had entered her office to Lorraine’s rather reluctant admission of him. While outwardly, his appearance was still the same, Peggy had detected hints of puffy eyes that perhaps had indicated he had recently cried.

She never knew him to cry except for that one time; where she had accidentally walked in on him collapsed onto the floor of his room, clutching at a button-down shirt that was not his. It had been about a month after he had been discharged from the army. It had also been the first and only time he had yelled at her in anger to get out; though the apology had come swiftly thereafter.

When he had handed her the folder and even allowed Lorraine to remain just to ease her worries, that was when Peggy began to see her brother. Not the harsh, angry man he had been when he had left and returned, but something akin to what she remembered of him.

She had listened as he explained the contents of the typed up counterintelligence plan. Considering what exactly had been discussed within the quinjet’s hold, Peggy had been surprised that he was openly talking about the plans.

Peggy didn’t stop him though. She knew with what was at stake, her brother would reveal his hand when it was necessary – just like she had to piece together what exactly Bucky – both of them – Natasha, and Michael were doing.

Then, unexpectedly, Michael had apologized. Sincerely, unprompted, and with a humble dignity that she had not seen within him for a very long time. Even Lorraine had been astonished.

Tears were shed, comforting, familiar embraces exchanged, and Peggy had to ask Lorraine to at least clear out some space within her busy schedule to give herself a few minutes to recover. There was still a very long road ahead for Michael and her to patch up their familial relationship, but just hearing and saying ‘I’m sorry for what I did’ to each other felt cathartic to Peggy.

At present, her brothers were sitting in the office with her; Lorraine somehow miraculously clearing most of her schedule for the rest of the afternoon and into the early evening. The moment Natasha had asked for permission to use the training room, was when Peggy realized the plan to free Sharon was executing. She had granted permission, and alerted security that the training room was in use.

Whether it was natural or forced, Alex expressed curiosity in observing whatever Natasha was doing in the training room. Peggy had somehow managed to force herself to both laughingly and exasperatingly deflect his interest – citing that they did not want yet another repeat of what happened when Sergeant and Agent Barnes ‘sparred’ to calibrate an arm.

It was answered with a slightly childish grouse of missing a fascinating moment of seeing just how a prosthetic was calibrated. Michael’s mild comment about the ‘sparring match’ complimented her deflection, yet it also reinforced her theory that perhaps Bucky from Steve’s original timeline had been the one to make a breakthrough.

Considering what little she knew of how this resonance thing worked, she could only extrapolate that the interloper that lurked within her little brother’s mind saw through dreams. If the interloper was somewhere in the vast Siberian wastelands and gave orders in the afternoon, that meant information was extracted during the night hours here in London.

Peggy was under no illusion that it could be a futile effort. However, if this other ‘Alex Carter’ was somehow her brother from the other reality turned to such horrific evil; and if he was ‘spying’ through this Alex Carter’s memories, then she thought that perhaps a reminder of good may help him reconsider.

After all, Steve had used a promise made since childhood, to get through to the Winter Soldier and reach Bucky. And in turn, she theorized black-armed Bucky had done something similar to reach Michael.

At present, Peggy set her tea down. “Barring a crisis, I was wondering if the two of you wanted to come with Steve and I to visit Mother and Father in early November.”

“How large of a bonfire this year?” Michael asked. “Did Mother and Father finally expand the property?

“At least as large as we used to have it,” Peggy said, smiling.

Alex’s eyes had lit up at the mention of a bonfire. The last time Alex had seen their traditional 5 ^th of November bonfire had been before he had fallen through the 0-8-4. He had been four.

“It’ll be Alex’s first time since he’s returned as well, Michael,” she explained.

“Anyone else invited?” Alex asked. “Or are we allowed to bring someone else with us?”

Peggy sipped at her tea. “I don’t see why not. Are you finally taking my advice, Alex?”

Whereas she would have normally heard a quip or two from Michael, there was silence and only a mildly interested look. They still had a long way to go to get to somewhere close to where they had been.

A blush erupted across her younger brother’s cheeks. “It depends on how this current crisis with Unit 616 is resolved and what happens after that.”

“Still haven’t asked, Alex?” she questioned, slightly surprised. She didn’t know whom had her younger brother’s eye, but there was at least one candidate she thought held Alex’s interest.

“Um…”

“He’s dating—?” Michael’s eyes darted to Peggy before he turned slightly in his seat, a slightly scrutinizing look upon Alex. “You’re dating?!”

“Michael,” Peggy began, lightly admonishing him. “He’s thirty-eight. Far older than either you or I.”

“By two years to me, and five to you,” Michael gave her a look.

“No,” she disagreed, shaking her head. “I put up with this during my younger years from you. Alex does not need his love life to be smothered by either of us. Besides, I’m fairly certain that he has had good taste in the past – even if in another reality.”

There were hints of her brother in that skeptical look, and it heartened Peggy that Michael was able to banter – even if a small amount – with them. She found it even more comforting that Alex was able to fully accept his brother, and did not have the bias or the heavy burden of experiencing the past when it came to Michael.

“Fine. I’ll reserve judgment since it’s someone in SHIELD. Correct?”

Alex gave both of them a small smile, but did not verbally confirm.

Peggy smiled, and picked up her tea again, letting what remained of the warm liquid within the cup seep into into her hands. She was glad that Alex was waiting until the current crisis to be over to make any moves. It gave her some comfort in the fact that perhaps her brother’s actions were not involuntary, but rather more towards passive spying through resonance than anything else.

Alex picked up his cup of tea, and sipped at it. However, he suddenly stiffened, seemingly paralyzed mid-sip. The warm liquid continued to dribble down his parted mouth past his chin and onto his clothes and chair.

“Alex?” Peggy questioned, shooting an alarmed look to Michael.

Both got up at nearly the same time. Michael gingerly approached the still frozen Alex, while Peggy hurried to her desk to page Lorraine. She only made it half-way when a startled grunt pierced the air. She turned, only to see Michael being flung back with impossible force by Alex, crashing into the heavy bookshelf—

“Michael!” she screamed.

~~~

Steve immediately stood up, both bewildered and alert the moment the lights flicked to emergency floodlights, and the alarms started to blare.

“You ever see what happened to those Natalia freed?”

“No, but I don’t think it’s supposed to trigger a lockdown.”

Steve gave Sam a bewildered look at the exchange between the two Bucky, as both tore out of the room. Steve snatched up his shield, and followed – Sam hot on his heels.

Out in the halls and bullpen, SHIELD agents had already taken up firearms. Some watched the ceiling, others scanning windows and the locked elevators. Non-essential personnel were already hurrying towards the stairwells to evacuate—

The door to the stairwell at the end of the hall suddenly exploded outwards and into the hall. Someone covered in dust and debris stumbled through.

“Go! I’ve got this Peggy!” Steve heard Michael shout.

It took Steve a half-second to realize that the man who had been kicked out of the stairwell was Alex. Yet, from what he saw it wasn’t Alex, as adamantium-armed Bucky intercepted the wild attempt of Alex to bring a pistol to bear at Michael. Bloodied and clearly injured, Michael had been braced against the stairwell door. Peggy was directly behind Michael, sporting similar injuries.

In between blinks of his eyes, Steve saw something drop from Alex and to the ground – spherical in shape—

“Grenade!”

Steve couldn’t reach his wife, brother-in-law, or best friend in time. He caught a glimpse of adamantium-armed Bucky lashing out and kicking the grenade towards the brick wall, while turning away to clobber both Michael and Peggy to the ground. Of silver-armed Bucky, he had turned to shield those he could, while Sam skidded to a halt to bring up his shield to protect others.

The explosion tore a hole into the side of the building; concussive blast wave knocking out more than a few agents and still-evacuating non-essential personnel. Steve was barely had a moment to catch his breath again when he heard Bucky’s yelp.

He caught a flash of adamantium-armed Bucky being easily lifted by the back of his clothes and tossed out of the hole within the building. Not a split second later, Alex punched silver-armed Bucky down into the floor before he even had a chance to scramble up.

“Bucky!”

Steve brutally swept aside his shock and hesitation. He charged and flung his shield at the same time Sam did as well. Both were deflected up and to the side, respectively.

At the last moment, Steve slid low, just as Alex punched where his head used to be. Sam struck from high, but Alex was impossibly faster, pivoting up and around to block Sam.

Steve received a hard kick in his chest, breath leaving him for a moment. He coughed and stumbled back and crashed onto the ground. Alex backed up and pinned Sam to the corner of the wall, striking him hard with an elbow into his gut.

By the time Steve managed to clear the ringing from his head, Alex had already lunged forward and lifted the shield from the floor. Alex whirled and slammed the face of the shield against Sam, knocking him out.

“Sam!” Steve cried.

Just as Sam slumped to the ground, silver-armed Bucky lunged up, still disoriented, but coherent enough to respond. Through blurry eyes, Steve thought he saw him collide into Alex like a linebacker, clothes-lining him.

Bucky’s momentum was a little too much, as Steve saw him flip over and land on his back. Alex now had the advantage. A quick jab into Bucky’s exposed throat temporarily stunned and disabled him.

Steve punched in a combination into the bangle on his left wrist; the cascade of padded cloth armor and helmet washed over his body and head. He managed to drag himself up to his knees and barely onto his feet to avoid Alex lashing up at him with a snap kick.

He stumbled into a wall and rebounded, pushing Alex’s jab to the side. Steve whirled towards his right to try to grab him from the side. Alex whirled with him.

They briefly traded sharp punches and blocks; Bucky recovered enough for Steve to force an opening and shoved Alex towards Bucky. Bucky grappled Alex from behind, hooking his arms up and forcibly flipped Alex head over heels.

Shattered glass and metal scattered everywhere as Alex was briefly sent into the first few desks of the bullpen. Steve was already closing the distance, shield swept up in his hand; Bucky on the opposite side.

Faster than anticipated, Alex was already recovering. He had wrenched what looked like a bent piece of a desk or chair leg, and was brandishing it like a weapon.

Steve wrenched his head to the side, shield brought up to block just as the desk leg was swung at him. Pieces of plaster, brick, and metal flew through the air as Alex swung wildly side-to-side. Just as Bucky pounced from behind, wrenching Alex’s arm that held the improvised weapon, Steve punched once—twice into Alex, shield leading the way.

It didn’t do anything to stun Alex.

In fact, it only made him angrier – and faster. Steve grunted through the pain as his breath left him with the force of Alex’s kick into his chest, in between him attempting to bring down his shield again.

Alex twisted and nimbly used the nearest remnant of a desk as leverage to climb up and twist to get out of Bucky’s lock. That bent desk leg briefly hooked across Bucky’s neck; Alex wrenching him down with Bucky severely unbalanced.

Steve blearily blinked, as he charged, smashing into Alex. His shield was painfully wrenched from his hands with the improvised weapon. He blocked several times, trying to force the weapon away, only to be locked into hold.

The strength that Alex exerted in trying to get the sharp end of the improvised weapon was great – Steve struggling to keep it from piercing his neck. It was only because of his outstretched hand on the hook, and his tight grip on Alex’s right hand near the sharp end, that kept it away.

The macabre embrace he was locked into waddled back and for a few long seconds; the sounds of their exertions the only noise piercing the blare of alarms. As he and Alex rocked across the threshold between the bullpen and hall, Steve caught movement out of the corner of his eyes; Bucky slowly standing up, shedding his jacket for better freedom of movement.

It was enough to briefly distract Alex. Steve kicked up at the frame, pushing Alex off balance so that they stumbled back some more. The tight hold Alex had upon him briefly loosened; Steve wrenched Alex’s arm to the side, and managed to get the improvised weapon away.

He spun to his right, just as Bucky lunged in, engaging Alex with a one-two punch that ended with an uppercut. Pinned against the wall, Alex had no chance to defend against Bucky’s practiced boxing, wildly swinging this way and that – always missing.

But, even with the split second advantage to land blows, Alex recovered quickly. Steve reached the two, just as Alex caught Bucky’s next swing and planted two sharp, swift jabs – felling him to his knees. Steve caught the full force of Alex’s pivoting momentum and roundhouse kick.

A sharp, stabbing pain bloomed across his mid-section. Steve stumbled back, coughing out something wet. Alex had whirled around and held Bucky up by his hair. Exhaustion tugged at Steve as he tried to force himself to get back up and stop.

A feeble protest escaped Steve’s lips, as he saw Alex strike like a viper, a punch directly into the side of Bucky’s head, and then another kick to keep him down. Dizziness clawed at Steve, his vision swimming in double for a brief moment.

He had to finish this – had to find someway to stop Alex – whatever he was. With a yell, Steve charged, slamming into Alex. Steve continued to run, yelling at the top of his lungs; Alex caught completely off guard—

—until something heavy and clothed in black dropped from the vents. Steve was forcibly separated from Alex by Natasha. Exhaustion tugged at him, as he stumbled back, Natasha attempting to choke Alex via wire.

Sliding in behind Natasha was Sharon, whom made Alex fall by kicking his legs out from under him. Natasha tumbled off, distraction successful. She halted herself with a splay of her hands on the debris-covered floor.

However, instead of attacking Alex, Natasha broke something that looked like a vial of pink gas in front of Alex’s face. Steve wasn’t sure what he saw, between trying to maintain consciousness and attempting to get up just in case he had to help the two finish the fight.

“Get it out of me!” Alex unexpectedly cried, clutching his head in pain.

For a split second, Steve saw fear flash in his brother-in-law’s eyes. Then, it was violently shuttered – exactly like the very few chilling times he had seen Bucky as the Winter Soldier do so.

“Sharon! Nat—!”

Steve’s hoarse warning came too late. Alex struck; Natasha flying into a door frame to an office, slumped down. Thrown, Sharon slammed into Steve; half-caught by him. Steve felt his breath leave him again, as he was sent sprawling across the ground.

Stars exploded behind his eyes; Sharon rendered unconscious by the force in which she had hit him. Steve tried to will his body to get up, to continue to fight. Tried to will the agonizing bloom of pain cascading up and down to stop crawling upon his body.

Through bleary eyes, Steve saw Alex saunter down the hall and pick up a pistol among the debris in the hall. Then, it was pointed at the barely conscious Sam.

“No…” Steve croaked.

~~~

Minutes before…

Bucky ached, but forced himself to get up off the wet pavement; gun firmly in his hand. He blinked rainwater out of his eyes, as the murmurs of a gathering crowd was starting to form at the end of the alleyway he had landed in. The faint sounds of sirens were starting to get louder—

...your work has been a gift to mankind...

He looked up and around; no emergency evacuation stairs existed on this side of the building, nor it’s neighbor. Bucky immediately headed towards the alleyway entrance and shoved his way through the crowds.

He burst into and through the lobby of the neighboring building. Shouts and cries of alarm whistled after him as he swiftly climbed up the stairs to the rooftop of the squat building.

...you shaped the century...

The first two floors of SHIELD-Europe were barricaded by thick steel plates; a security measure activated in both invasion and in containment. Bucky had been thrown out of the sixth floor window, and from what shadowed forms he saw beyond the jagged hole, he had to get back in.

Taking a few steps back, he braced himself and raised his left arm. Then, with one last huff of a breath for calm and control, Bucky sprinted – and leapt across the chasm.

...and I need you to do it one more time...

The Winter Soldier slammed directly into and through the window and into the target, hands outstretched and grasped the target’s in a grapple. The gun in the target’s hand was throw far away, skittering on the debris-covered floor.

He took a punch into the face, as the target attempted to get in between his own hands, and fling his right hand with the gun away. Blood dribbled down the split lip. Blocking the jab thrown with his arm, the target managed to feint and grasp at his right wrist, slamming his arm into the wall as the grappled.

Stray shots fired before he was able to remove his finger from the trigger. Momentum lost for a moment, the Winter Soldier braced himself with his left arm at the frame of the door, just as the target curled and tried to wrench him off balance.

The Winter Soldier let the gun go – and whirled backwards, dragging the target with his right hand further down the hall. Slightly smaller and nimbler, the target wrenched out of his grasp – grappling him for a moment and throwing him against the wall.

He crashed down into the debris covered floor, stunned from the force of impact. He wasn’t able to fully bring his arms up to briefly protect his face, as the target quickly closed the distance and attempted to punch him. Pain cascaded where flesh met flesh. The target’s hands briefly flailed as the Black Widow appeared over both of them like a shadow.

She tried to wrench the target off of him, her smaller, injured stature only able to dig her fingers into his mouth to try to wrench the target to the side. The target staggered back, and reached up to twist and fling her away. A quick throw of an elbow, and snap kick against her stomach caused her to fly back.

The Winter Soldier barely dodged the Black Widow, her crash and slump against the wall not his primary concern. The target was quick on the recovery, as the Winter Soldier lashed out against the target’s shins, making the target stumble.

He rolled up, closing the distance in two strides. The target swung wildly left and right, haymakers easily dodged, as he blocked the next two precise punches with his raised arms.

The Winter Soldier’s right fist connected for a brief moment with the target’s face, pain radiating up his arm. Then, he stepped into the target’s left side, hands attempting to get a firm grip onto the target. But, the target was just as fast, and attempted to whirl out again.

Spinning out of the attempt to lock him in, the Winter Soldier clamped down on the target’s left arm, and twisted it up – nearly breaking the target’s arm. A brief agonizing howl was heard, before the target flipped into the aborted lock.

The Winter Soldier immediately let go and spun down to sweep the target off balance. He kicked the target again. It was blocked, with the target lunging up – momentum enough to force him to stumble and briefly lose his balance.

He crashed into the floor, directly on top of the concave shield. Rolling back and up, he brought the shield up, just as the target brought a brass blunt instrument down upon him.

The Winter Soldier kicked at the target’s outstretched knee, snapping it to the side. The target fell, temporarily stunned and sprawled. The Winter Soldier rolled up, just as the target did as well. Brass met the vibranium shield again, blocked high – then he snapped the shield down.

The target howled in pain and anger, the shield breaking and crushing bones in his feet. The Winter Soldier spun up and bashed the shield into the target’s side of the face, causing him to fly down the hall.

It was not enough.

The Winter Soldier immediately threw the shield as hard as he could, spinning disc of metal cutting deep into the floor before coming to a stop. It only missed the target by a hair, as a sudden wrinkled-looking hand had emerged from behind the target and yanked the target to the right.

As fast as he was, he was unable to close the distance, the last minute scoop up and throw of a knife passing harmlessly through the strange portal that rippled in the air. The same portal that had withered hands upon the target and pulled the target through.

The knife landed with a hard, dull thunk into the brick wall—

“Bucky…”

The Winter Soldier half-turned, the scrape of boots along the debris-covered floor barely audible over the whoop of alarms. Those collapsed around the hall and open area were stirring more than they had earlier.

A black man with a similar-looking circular shield upon his arm was struggling to get up. The Black Widow was slowly picking herself up. Others thrown about the hall were becoming more conscious, more aware – attention more focused.

They were possible threats to him.

The man who had said that was clearly injured, but still able to move. The man yanked off the blue helmet, revealing sweat-covered sandy-colored hair. He also held up the same hand seemingly in a placating manner while the other clutched his clearly injured side—

You know me!

No, I don’t!

Bucky, you’ve known me your entire life. Your name is James Buchanan Barnes—

Shut up!

I’m not going to fight you. You’re my friend.

You’re my mission. You. Are. My. Mission.

Then finish it, ‘cause I’m with you, until the end of the line.

—the Winter Soldier winced as a blinding pain erupted within his head. Spots appeared before his eyes as he stumbled with the sudden dizziness that swept over him.

He clutched at his head, a hoarse scream emerged from his lips, and then everything was gone.

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Chief/Руководитель

“I don’t know how he did it. I don’t know how… Dad… did it.”

Peggy glanced over to see Sharon press a hand to the window. Beyond the window were several agents, analysts, and other personnel whom were still recovering from their injuries. Medical personnel were going from person to person, taking readings at the moment.

All Peggy understood at the moment was that Unit 616 had attempted to cripple SHIELD-Europe’s functions through Alex the moment Sharon had been ‘freed’ from their control.

Sharon hid her distress well, but Peggy heard the undercurrent of anger within her tone. She understood that ‘Dad’ did not indicate this reality’s Alex Carter, but rather Sharon’s actual father. A man who supposedly had died in 1989.

A man, Peggy’s own brother, inexplicably linked and possibly the leader of Unit 616 – a HYDRA offshoot. It was horrifically sickening to think that someone of her own family willingly supported such rhetoric.

Those whom had witnessed the brutally vicious fight between the other reality’s Winter Soldier and Alex, had confirmed that they had seen withered-looking hands pull Alex into the portal. It was not a confirmation that those hands belonged to Sharon’s father, but they could not take any chances.

Steve was currently working on a composite sketch of what Alex could presumably look like in old age. Peggy wished to have never used Steve’s incredible talent in that manner, but her husband had volunteered and insisted on composing such a sketch.

“All I remember…” Sharon began, curling her hand on the window into a fist.

Sharon didn’t finish her comment, and Peggy did not prompt her to. Peggy hadn’t been there, but had been informed by one of her uninjured agents that Sharon had taken out her frustration, anger, and grief only an hour ago in the training room – or what was left of it.

The security lockdown for the entire building had worked – but up to a certain point. It was still unconfirmed, but because they didn’t know how Alex had such unexpected tremendous strength, he had been able damage portions of the building. Further fighting against three super-soldiers had contributed to it. Those areas had been evacuated and sealed off as best as possible.

Peggy suspected a super-soldier serum at work, but until Medical came back with their analysis, it was only speculation. Considering Unit 616 and their methodologies, she knew that it could be a number of things unknown. Perhaps even unrelated; that Alex had acquired on his own while living in another reality.

Get it out of me!

Her brother’s scream still haunted her. Were that not a clear indication of him being controlled by whatever controlled him, Peggy did not know where else to find proof—

“Peggy.”

Peggy looked up, as Steve’s warm, calloused hands slipped into her own, briefly holding her. Bandages peeked out from under his clothes; a testament to just how injured he had been in that fight against Alex. He should have been on bed rest, but refused to; citing that other SHIELD personnel not as fortunate as he was needed the beds in Medical.

She tried to give her husband a reassuring nod, but found that she couldn’t. Instead, all she could do at the moment was tear her gaze away from her injured personnel. Peggy felt him gently squeeze her hands in comfort.

“It’s time?” she asked, even though there was only one reason why Steve would be here.

She had called for a strategic meeting for any agent, analyst, engineer – any person a member of SHIELD-Europe – able to attend with permission from Medical. It was an open forum; SHIELD-Europe had been utterly crippled from inside-out with Alex’s disappearance.

She had only finished briefing the other division chiefs of what had happened a half-hour ago before heading down to Medical to see to her personnel. She had found Sharon here, lost in her thoughts while staring through the windows into the busy bay.

Philips had not said much over the conference other than stating that he would be out to London on the next flight. Other division leaders had taken the news quite badly; Peggy did not blame them. SHIELD-Europe’s complete compromise and collapse affected their own operations – made them compromised as well.

“Sharon,” she called out to her niece from another reality.

Sharon withdrew her fist from the window and silently came over. Peggy looped an arm around her, the action reciprocated. Steve walked next to her on the other side, fingers entwined within her own.

When they got closer to the observation room on the not-quite second floor, Sharon slipped out of her embrace. Steve let go and Peggy walked on ahead; her husband, and her niece from another reality following behind her.

The observation room overlooking the training room was the only area large enough and not damaged that could fit a large amount of people. Engineering, Medical, and Logistics had remained intact; as had the cache where they stored the 0-8-4s. But, the main bullpen and several offices on various floors and even one of the emergency stairwells had been greatly damaged.

SHIELD personnel of all flavors had gathered; among them Bucky, Natasha, Sam, Agent Wessiri, Michael, and Lorraine. Agents Cracken and Li were among those still in Medical. David and a couple of engineers from David’s team were present, though there was a case on the table, which meant that they had news to present.

Of Bucky from Steve’s original timeline, he was tucked in the corner of the room. Peggy caught the tail end of what looked like one last attempt by Sam to convince Bucky to join them around the table.

Except for David and the other two engineers, everyone within the room sported various peeks or outright displays of bandages, slings, splints, and other medical aids. Peggy had not expected this many people to attend the meeting.

She collected the folder from Lorraine, and took to the center end of the table.

Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Steve briefly stop next to the reticent, black-armed Bucky, nod once, and then went over to take a seat next to Sam. Sharon took a seat directly to her right, determined expression upon her face so similar to Michael – to Alex, even.

“Thank you all for gathering on such short notice,” Peggy began. “You all know what happened. What Unit 616 attempted through forcible control of one of our own in these walls.”

She would be damned if she called Alex a mole or laid the blame entirely on him. His haunting scream for help was the only thing that convinced her that he had not been a willing spy for Unit 616.

She activated the projector; Lorraine flicked off the lights. “We know that the cause of this is a portal created by some unknown means.” She pulled up the transparencies of David’s pictorial theories of how the portal was created.

“The one that exists in Siberia was created through a common person existing here and in a far away future our four friends are from.” Peggy briefly gestured to Sam and Natasha.

“We are calling this a ‘resonance event’. There is no defense against this, but because Science and Engineering have theorized that it requires a great source of power to maintain, portals that connect our world to others are unlikely to frequently form.”

“We have one here and now; we shall take measures to deal with others that may form after we secure and close this one.” Peggy switched transparencies; the latest information she received from the analysts just before she had taken tea with Alex and Michael.

“Its been over six months since Unit 616 instigated a coup of sorts within the government of the Soviet Union. Based on information from sources, we believe that they are not entirely in control yet. There have been a few verified reports from other divisions that resistance is still continuing. However, Unit 616’s grip on manipulating information and the fear that stems from that is tightening. Our window of opportunity to strike and take them out is shrinking.”

“We are not in the business of staging coups or replacing anyone in governmental power. SHIELD will only strike at the 0-8-4 portal and any defensive measures upon it. While there may be remnants of Unit 616 that may linger after this, cutting off the access to the portal is more important.”

Finally, she reached into her folder and pulled out the final transparency. With the others deposited back into the folder, she placed the transparency onto the projector; a sketch of an aged man.

“Based on what we know of resonance, and witness reports, Captain Rogers extrapolated what the presumed leader of Unit 616 looks like. He was originally our future friends’ version of Alexander Carter. He is known as Dr. Faustus, or by his alias, Johann Fenhoff,” she stated. “What we know is that he used our Dr. Carter to create the portal from resonance. We also know that he’s stolen and appropriated not just technology from our future friends, but also from other realities.”

Peggy brought out a small transparency of the Siberian Portal location and placed it next to the sketched portrait. “This is the location of the portal, relative to Moscow. We know that they have troop transports and weapons that far outstrips anything we have here. We also know that Dr. Faustus has been spying through Dr. Carter via memories. Unit 616 more than likely knows of our standard armament, capabilities, and methodologies. As part of the on-going efforts to prevent further damage, improved counterintelligence activities have already been deployed.”

Peggy had quietly thanked Michael earlier for the fact that he had use a simple method of lemon juice concealment written into his typed report counterintelligence ideas. Most of the concealed ideas and methods had already been initiated; Peggy could only hope that Unit 616 and whatever Soviet agents helping them were able to be outsmarted by Michael, or the agents engaged in counterintelligence.

She gestured for Lorraine to turn the lights back on, and placed the folder to the side. “Mr. Wilson, what are we looking at, with possible portal defenses?”

Sam rattled off what he and black-armed Bucky had caught a glimpse of, along with what Natasha had seen in her quinjet. SHIELD personnel gathered looked rather grim.

Peggy was not deterred. “Thank you,” she said, then returned her attention onto her people. “We had plans, but we cannot consider those plans as viable any longer. What we need right now, are ideas – any ideas great, small, out of this world, anything that is not typical of what we’ve done for the past four years. Ideas that we can refine and use to either secure the 0-8-4 site, or neutralize it. Secondary is to eliminate Unit 616.”

Peggy stepped back. Silence answered her for a few long seconds; she saw uncertainty yet sparks of resoluteness in her peoples’ eyes. They were thinking, but it was a very difficult ask.

It was surprisingly David who broke that silence. “Chief, I think the EMP idea may still be slightly viable.”

Peggy took a seat and nodded for her Chief Engineer to continue.

“While dropping it at the site as a preemptive attack may be out the door, it’s still usable. We have a working prototype, based off the concept used during the war, and expanded for yield growth,” David said, opening the case to reveal the inactive EMP. “Radius is about five hundred feet, continuous pulse for thirty seconds. However, incorporating a single concussive blast wave or more, and large enough to knock out people is trickier. Calculations currently put that as impossible, without damaging the EMP’s components once unleashed. It essentially nullifies what the EMP is supposed to do.”

Peggy saw silver-armed Bucky frown slightly before tugging the case closer to him. “The casing looks familiar, David.”

“It should,” David nodded. “It’s the same one used by the Howling Commandos on the first and only mission utilizing an EMP. Late 1943, if I remember correctly.”

“Why the same casing then?” Steve asked, tapping the case with a finger.

“The team came up with other designs, but the one that Thomas Hattersfield came up with in 1943 was the most mathematically practical one – the one that also allowed the repetitive pulse of energy to be maximized at release,” David explained. “One of the other casing designs allowed for the incorporation and release of successive concussive blast waves, but not the EMP simultaneously or thereafter.”

“So we can only have one or the other,” Steve said.

David nodded. “Correct.”

“Just a theory and probably a bad idea, but…” Bucky, black-armed quietly spoke up.

Peggy saw him deposit what looked like a tiny black appendage from a figurine on the table. It took a moment to realize that that thing was Bucky’s arm that had been damaged during the escape from Siberia.

A moment later, Bucky threw something at it – it grew to a proportional size of a regular arm. A few of the analysts visibly jumped at the sudden change; one or two coloring in embarrassment. Within the palm was a spiked object – more than likely the thing that damaged it. Bucky plucked the spike object up, and held it up for everyone to see.

“This thing is attracted to vibranium and can short-circuit electronics within it,” he said.

Then, he dropped the object onto the table. It immediately skittered like a crazed beetle towards the vibranium arm, before coming to rest. More than a few in the room visibly recoiled from it.

“Unit 616 probably has a lot more where that came from – specifically targeting those who wear or use vibranium,” Bucky continued. “We know that vibranium can absorb kinetic energy – but only so much. We’ve seen it happen in our reality.”

“So what if we build a cage of vibranium around the EMP? Overload it? Divert the electrical discharge from the spike ball weapons into the EMP, convert the excess electrical energy to kinetic energy stored in the vibranium, and use it as a delayed timer to unleash the concussive blast wave?”

Silence greeted Bucky’s words. And yet, it was not a kind of silence that usually fell when the engineers of scientists went a little overboard in their explanations.

“That… might work,” David began, glancing at the other engineers, who nodded. “We’ll need to run the numbers, but that might work.”

“How much and where would we get the vibranium though?” one of the agents asked.

Peggy saw Steve open his mouth, more than likely to volunteer his shield, except that Bucky beat him to the punch, shaking his head. “Can’t use your shield Steve. Neither yours, Sam.”

“Why?” Sam asked, frowning.

“Steel is alloyed to those shields. They’ll still attract the spike balls from hell, but it’s a purity thing with vibranium that will attract more. We’re looking at possibly smelting armors, or even this useless arm.”

“Okay…” Steve began, while Sam looked slightly pensive.

Peggy pulled forward a piece of paper and pencil. She jotted down the EMP idea with the enhancements. “Please let me know if the concussive blast wave can be achieved as soon as you can, David,” she stated.

“Will do ma’am,” her Chief Engineer answered, confident.

~~~

Steve could clearly see that SHIELD personnel were bolstered by the first throw down of an idea from SHIELD Engineering. Confident that even if there were prototypes and designs known, that group of remarkable people were still able to come up with possible solutions.

Steve helped Sam reach over to pull the map of the portal in Siberia and placed markers on it. Others began contributing. Steve knew that they looked to not just him, but also to Peggy and Sam to take the lead on a few things. Both Sam and Peggy directed most of the conversation, while Steve jotted some notes of their ideas onto the paper that Peggy had started to take notes on.

Michael looked to be doing the same, though Peggy occasionally engaged her brother to confirm any geographical suggestions. Of Natasha and Sharon, they occasionally contributed, but mostly did not comment on the ideas. Bucky – both of them, remained silent after adamantium-armed Bucky’s vibranium cage idea. Steve did not prompt either of them, knowing that if they had anything to say, they would say it.

It was starting to become clearer that to beat Unit 616, they had to not just incorporate future tactics, but also what SHIELD was capable of right here and now. Occasionally, there was the question of if other SHIELD divisions could spare people. That was something Peggy had to confirm; those ideas utilizing other division personnel put to the side.

There was some talk of calling in the roaming 107 ^th , but Michael had aptly pointed out the optics of that in succinct words. Some of the newer members of the now-detached 107 ^th still had obligations to the US Army, and only rotated into the outfit to get some experience; namely in deployment in North America.

The SHIELD agent who had suggested that looked chastised; SHIELD was not supposed to be aligned with any country. If they decided to utilize the 107^th, then they would have to be extremely careful. With Unit 616 and their expert manipulation of the media of the 1950’s and control over the Soviet seat of government, it made it even more tricky to use the 107^th.

Then, the discussion began to evolve into engaging personnel after the initial strike – shadow condition or otherwise. It was always going to be some kind of strike, no matter what. There was the possibility of Unit 616 attacking them, but preliminary counterintelligence information from Michael stated that that was a low possibility.

Unit 616 wanted perpetual fear. With their still-tenuous grip on the Soviet government along with the failure to completely take out SHIELD-Europe, they were overstretched.

There was a higher probability of their information campaign ratcheting up; more ‘leaked’ news about nuclear tests, or even misinformation about deaths, assassinations, or more. There was also the fact that it looked as if they had taken out SHIELD-Europe; stalwart of the SHIELD divisions.

It was surprisingly Peggy whom stated that she wanted to take advantage of that perception.

Yet, none of her personnel looked defeated, only defiant and keen on defeating Unit 616. It reminded Steve of the sentiments running around the SSR after the Howling Commandos had returned with Zola.

Steve had wanted revenge, wanted to crush HYDRA to get justice for Bucky’s death back then. He didn’t know if other SSR personnel had felt the same, but had chalked it up to the fact that they had been so close to defeating Schmidt as their driving factor.

It was during a lull in the rapid-fire ideas that had initially come from SHIELD personnel that Natasha spoke up. “Chief Carter, we’re going to have to also consider the fact that there may be more people than just Dr. Carter being controlled.”

“What do you mean by that, Agent Romanov?” Agent Wessiri questioned, as Peggy frowned.

Instead of directly answering, Steve caught Natasha’s glance at him. “You want to explain what a computer is to these folks, Steve?”

Steve shrugged then nodded; he wasn’t the only one who had been suddenly thrown from 1940s technology and into the future, but he wasn’t going to put that burden on Bucky. Sam had grown up with computers, Natasha lived through the evolution. Neither understood the sudden disparity in technological gaps and nuances needed for those here and now in SHIELD to understand it.

“To put it simply, a computer is a machine with origins in the encryption and decryption,” Steve began. “In the future, it can carry out complex calculations, sequences of arithmetic, or logical operations without the need for human intervention.”

A few of those around the table nodded; most looking quite surprised at and curious at the possibilities of making their lives easier. Those analysts present looked absolutely fascinated; Steve didn’t fault them for their sudden enthusiasm.

Steve continued. “Automation of long and tedious tasks, complex equations such as calculations to launch a rocket to the moon, or even identifying and matching a photograph to a person on the other side of the world are performed by computers.”

He held up his left wrist with the bangle. “Even this thing here can be called a computer, though it only reacts to certain sequences I tap in, to spit out my armor.”

Steve lowered his hand. “While most of humanity used computers for the betterment of lives, there are those who had exploited it for less than honorable purposes. In the other reality, SHIELD, HYDRA and many other countries and entities took full advantage of what computers could provide. As computers and their development grew, so did shrinking them to smaller, more powerful systems that could perform what they were programmed to do – and more.”

Natasha took over, saying, “Control chips – tiny computers – were initially developed to help control systems; ovens for an example. Regulating temperatures and letting the cook know that their food was done so it didn’t come out charred. In the reality Dr. Carter fell into, they took it to a more extreme. That reality’s HYDRA had developed chips to implant into, and control people.”

There were some murmurs of concern that rose. One agent asked out loud, “As in controlling their behavior? Like where to go, eat, or even sleep? Or even kill?”

“Yes,” Natasha answered in a no-nonsense, chilly tone.

As much as Steve wanted to reach out and comfort Bucky – both of them – right then and there, knowing how difficult it probably was for either of them to hear such a dispassionate discussion – he did not. He also did not reach out towards Michael. Even though none were controlled by chips, no one outside of himself, Natasha, Sam, Peggy, and those whom had been Black Widows, needed to know about either Bucky or Michael.

“Agent 13 and I suspect that Unit 616 stole the control chip technology and were implementing a two-fold operation here in this reality. An initial layer using chemicals, and then the second layer using chips,” Natasha stated.

“Why chemicals?” another agent asked.

Natasha raised an eyebrow. Steve knew that look; she was gearing up to pick a fight. In any other day, at any other time, he would have tried to convince her not to, but today… he didn’t.

“Well, considering that the history of warfare for the recent war… mustard gas in the trenches, SSR operations on the French front, whatever happened in Finow between the US Army and Stark, the release of that chemical weapon by Leviathan agents in a New York City theatre that made people crazy in 1946… Even creating Captain America required chemical manipulation. I’m honestly surprised that you don’t see it yourselves.”

More than a few disgruntled looks answered her statement; a few looked to him. Steve knew that it irked them to have their history slighted upon. But, he also knew that Natasha had a point. He held his tongue, and did nothing to defend against Natasha’s words. She was just voicing similar opinions he had had, except in a more harshly blunt manner.

Natasha shook her head. “It doesn’t matter who the scientist or entity is. There will always be people trying to control other people – creating for better or worse. Ideology and rhetoric are the easiest methods, but the least form of control. Psychological manipulation and chemical warfare is the next level. Suppressing will through control chips are the final form.”

“Unit 616 invaded this reality because certain key figures in my reality have either been neutralized, are not who they were in my reality, or have not yet been born. You just got out of a war here, and are in an ideological struggle between two major powers with proxies fighting for them. Why go through and repeat what was done when it’s easier to just implement from the get-go?”

“Unit 616 controls through fear… exacerbation of the fear that is already present,” Peggy murmured.

“There’s good news and bad news,” Sharon spoke up. “The good news: we have an antidote for the chemical control layer. The chemical control layer was stolen from our reality, and initially repurposed here. The bad news: Unit 616 is developing either a new or modified formula that will render the antidote null and void once complete.”

“We know from the attack Unit 616 initiated through Dr. Carter is that he was doused with the original chemical control layer,” Natasha picked up the explanation again. “There may have been a few people Unit 616 took with them who are under the same control – the ones who more than likely help instigate the coup on the Soviet government. What we don’t have is information on how to disable the control chip. That’s from another reality.”

“Pulling him through to our reality might work,” Sam briefly took up the discussion from the two. “We might have the tech to disable it, but it’s not a guarantee. How many additional chemical controlled people are we talking about here, Nat?”

“Based on what we know of the chemical control method, not many survive it,” Natasha said. “There may be only a handful of Unit 616 agents who are under that. Of the chip, I can only theorize that because none of the tech here is capable of allowing such an interface to flourish yet, Dr. Carter may be the only one thus far being controlled in that fashion. It could explain why we captured Soviet Spetsnaz coming into our reality. They were more than likely trying to find some way to steal more tech to bolster, enhance, and accelerate the enabling of the chip technology here.”

“So we should leave Alex to you?” Peggy questioned, frowning.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it, ma’am,” Sam answered. “I think we have a larger concern with the possibility that there may be heavy hitters that Unit 616 brought along with them.”

“We,” Natasha said, vaguely gesturing to herself, along with Steve, Sam, Sharon, and silver-armed Bucky, “can probably take care of most of them, but we do have a very limited amount of the antidote. Volunteer only, Chief Carter, and with your permission, but we could use some help. I’d like to expand on what Agent Belova and I did with the agents for the ‘fialka’ network disruption.”

“We’ll help,” Steve interjected at the same time Sam did as well. They both glanced at Natasha, knowing what she had in mind.

Natasha shrugged. “We’d like to take your field agents, and teach them how to fight like Avengers. They’ll be the ones armed with the antidote and will be able to deploy as they see fit if they encounter any other chemically controlled agent.”

One of the analysts raised his hand. “Pardon me, but what are the Avengers in your reality, Agent Romanov?”

“There was an idea, born from Director of SHIELD, Nicholas Fury, in our reality,” Natasha stated. “It was called the Avengers Initiative. The idea was to bring together a group of ordinary, but ultimately remarkable people to see if they could work together when we needed them to. To fight battles that SHIELD never could. Agents, soldiers, scientists, engineers, anyone and everyone. People who protected Earth, no matter who they were, or what they were.”

More than a few eyes around the room looked intrigued. Those who had been with SSR Brooklyn during the final fight against the multiple Thanos understood.

“When we take the fight to Unit 616, threats are going to be homing in on us,” Natasha continued. “But even if SHIELD is going in stealthy, there may be pockets of stiff or unusual resistance. It’s a threat that cannot be dismissed.”

Peggy did not immediately answer, but she was strongly considering the offer that Natasha was making. Steve had not wanted to come to this, a near-recreation of SHIELD in the other reality, but he also could not dismiss Natasha’s accurate threat assessment.

“Can the formula be recreated right here and now?” Peggy asked, tenting her hands.

“I don’t know, ma’am,” Natasha stated.

Peggy nodded. “Methodologies and training regimen outline on my desk by tomorrow oh-eight-hundred, Agent Romanov.”

Steve saw her attention flick to everyone within the room. “I’ve seen and I know what the Avengers do; what it takes to be one. This is strictly voluntary. Anyone who does not want the additional training will not be reprimanded nor thought of differently. You are SHIELD. You are already the best of the best.”

Steve nodded, catching Sam and Natasha also nodding out of the corner of his eyes. SHIELD was already remarkable; even here and now. Steve had wanted to stay away from involving himself too much in SHIELD, but duty had called. Whomever volunteered, Steve vowed that they would be able to protect their fellow field agents when SHIELD took the fight to Unit 616.

Peggy closed the forum after a few hours, urging her people to get some rest. Ideas were still welcomed, but there was a lot to go through.

Steve collected the pages of notes and shuffled them together—

“Peggy.”

Steve glanced up; Bucky’s expression pensive. Of Bucky from his old timeline, there was absolutely nothing on his face giving away as to what bothered his counterpart.

“Can I talk with you in your office?”

Peggy nodded. Steve briefly watched them leave, before returning to his task. He caught Sam’s glance at him, but shook his head. Neither Bucky or Peggy had asked him to accompany either of them; this was strictly SHIELD business that he knew he shouldn’t get into. His Level 1 activation by Philips and the other chiefs was only for the Siberian Portal operation.

“I’m going to help the eggheads—” adamantium-armed Bucky stated, breaking the silence that fell within the room.

“Please don’t say it, man—” Sam began, exasperated.

“—they need a hand,” Bucky stated, deadpanned, as he took his damaged vibranium arm, and left.

Steve grinned; not even bothering to groan. The awful yet hilarious pun had broken the tension left within the room. All he did was consolingly pat Sam – whom had his head in his hand – on his back, while Natasha’s throaty chuckle filled the relative silence.

~~~

Peggy’s office was still a mess – the broken bookshelf debris caused by Alex throwing Michael into it, shoved to the side. Her desk was partially shattered, and the only remaining furniture that was intact in her office were two chairs and a table that sometimes doubled as her nightstand.

She and Bucky sat in the middle of the debris-strewn room.

He withdrew the 2012 information brick and placed it on the table. It was activated, and Peggy silently watched him bring up several reports and profiles. The date labeled on the primary report was in Russian, with a date [09 April 1970].

Though it would never happen here, it still sent chills through her to see not just Bucky’s own profile as the Soviet asset, Winter Soldier, but also all five members of the Soviet strike team, Winter Guard – including Michael’s profile. All had absolutely blank expressions in their photographs.

For a moment, Bucky didn’t speak. He folded his hands together, glanced down at them before looking back up.

“Steve and Tony Stark stole the Tesseract from SHIELD on the 7^th of April in 1970. On the 8^th, you flew to Bucharest to meet and confirm with a potential defector. To bring him in from the cold.”

Bucky unfolded his hands and swiped up a profile. “General Nicolai Krylenko. He had access to Soviet leadership and was looking for a way out.”

The profile was placed to the side, as the others returned to the forefront. Bucky continued, “That mission was supposed to be completely classified, except HYDRA knew. So did the Soviets. They sent not just the Winter Soldier to kill Krylenko, but the Winter Guard as well.”

“Overkill,” she couldn’t help but murmur. “Sounds as if he had a lot of information.”

Bucky shook his head. “I have absolutely no idea if he did or not, but yeah. It looks like overkill on both HYDRA and the Soviets’ parts. The Winter Soldier’s objective was to kill him with absolutely no collateral damage. The Winter Guard, to quietly take out every SHIELD agent stationed in or around the meeting point, except for you.”

Peggy let go of a shuddering breath. “A statement then.”

“Yeah,” Bucky hoarsely answered. “I worked with your counterpart to stop this from happening when I returned the Tesseract.”

It was unusual to see her friend anxious, but there was something about this mission, about what he was saying within this mission that was making him anxious. “As much as I want to know if it was a success, I don’t believe that’s the point, isn’t it Bucky?”

He shook his head. Then, he reached forward to bring the six profiles of the assassins closer – specifically highlighting six distinctive areas within the reports.

“This is how the six of them slipped into Bucharest without alerting anyone. Of every single report that I could find on how either the Winter Guard or even the Winter Soldier slipped behind enemy lines, no other mission utilized this.”

Peggy frowned as she read through the passages. In advance of the centennial of the birth of Lenin, a towering statue was dedicated in many major cities within the Soviet Union. Celebrations were held, and in the crowds of tens of thousands that gathered in each city, that was how the six assassins slipped in without being detected.

“Even a soft information campaign wouldn’t allow for such a statue to be erected so quickly,” Peggy began. “We’d have to find some other method to gather such a large crowd on short notice…” she began, then trailed off when she noticed Bucky’s hesitant expression.

“Bucky?” she questioned.

“I want to use HYDRA’s methods for insertion.”

Peggy blinked in the silence that fell between them. His unusual behavior was worrying her, but she could still see the clear conflict within the way he held himself.

“Not a mob though,” she began.

Bucky shook his head, but then rubbed at his face with his hands. “Christ, I can’t believe I’m even entertaining this idea…”

Peggy remained silent as she watched her friend wrestle with whatever was making him reconsider, coupled with his anxiety and hesitancy. She would have normally just asked him to get to the point, but her gut feelings were telling her to wait it out.

“I want to recreate the Bucharest scenario except on Unit 616, specifically pointing it towards the portal. To get someone across and get help from the other side. Have a hidden strike team embed and remain behind after the initial assault by SHIELD fails on the portal.”

“You think any assault on the portal from this side will fail?” Peggy asked.

Bucky – both of them – had barely spoken throughout the meeting. However, Peggy had seen both of their eyes flick back and forth between those who contributed their ideas.

It was not common for Bucky to be silent. But Peggy had seen Bucky perform similar actions before in previous briefings. She had chosen not to force either of them to contribute.

“Maybe not,” Bucky answered. “There were some fairly interesting ideas that might just work. A lot better than the shit my counterpart and I were trying to stall Steve and Wilson with.”

“So I’ve read,” she answered. “But, you want a contingency plan in place – the strike team, just in case we do have to retreat.”

He nodded. “Something that cannot be detected, just like how SHIELD at Bucharest did not know what they were walking into. Neither Steve nor Wilson can be a part of it.”

Peggy didn’t answer for a few long seconds as she realized what Bucky was asking. Was suggesting. It was not a wonder why he was acting so uncharacteristically a few minutes ago.

Bucky was asking to reform the Winter Guard – enlist not only Michael into it, but also Natasha and Sharon into the strike team, and his own counterpart returned as the Winter Soldier. A strike team to assassinate those that remained in the portal and—

“Capture or kill Dr. Faustus?”

“Capture and shove him through to the other side.”

Peggy considered his words. It was almost like the Bucharest scenario. HYDRA tactics and strategy. The thought made her slightly ill.

“I think I can work with your brother,” Bucky broke the silence.

She frowned. “I sense a ‘but’ in that.”

“It would be myself, Natalia, Michael, Sharon, and my counterpart only. I would have liked to either enlist Underwood or Belova – or both, but they’re not here. I just don’t know if your brother or my counterpart would agree to it. Especially my counterpart.”

“How do you know Sharon and Natasha will?” she asked, curious.

“Natalia is an Avenger,” Bucky answered. “Sharon… well, she was raised by your counterpart, Peggy. She’s was an agent of SHIELD. If all else fails, she’s the one I’d consider sending through the portal to call for help.”

She gave him a mild look, then glanced up at the profiles again. “I’ll think about this. Will you let me keep this here for now? I’d like to read through the entire Bucharest operation.”

For a moment, Bucky looked hesitant, then he nodded. “It’s not…”

“I know,” she said, reaching over to swipe Krylenko’s profile back on the screen. “Wherever HYDRA touches, it never is Bucky.”

* * *

Taking the fight to Unit 616 was initially named ‘Operation Denali’.

Philips had arrived the next day, early in the morning. To everyone’s surprise, he had brought members of the 107^th with him. Those members were quickly incorporated into a diversionary plan to pique and keep Unit 616’s interests.

Steve, along with Sam and Natasha, had stayed up nearly the entire night, going over the plans with Peggy. While they did not have a solid plan in place by the time Philips came, they had an idea of what they needed to do.

Training and secret preparations, much like how things led up to the execution of Operation Overlord was carried out, had begun in earnest. With a few prototype developments from Engineering, the 107^th drew interests away from HALO jumps that most field-qualified SHIELD personnel were immediately ordered to practice.

Natasha took batches of SHIELD personnel up in the cloaked quinjet above Muckle Skerry, while Sam coached them in how to perform the jumps. Because of how volatile the weather behaved in that area, Muckle Skerry had been the Howling Commandos’ proving ground when they had formed during the war. It was the perfect hiding place in plain sight for such a training endeavor.

Elsewhere, Steve began intensive training with those whom had volunteered under the ‘Avengers training’. Michael had rotated into the HALO jump and quickly qualified – fast enough to rotate back into the intensive training.

Steve rotated training and practice jumps with Natasha and Sam. Steve had only asked Bucky to attend training, but only to give a small demonstration between Natasha and Bucky. It was to give the agents an incentive to push themselves to their limits. He knew from experience just how much demonstrations of what they were learning helped.

Additionally, Steve didn’t know how many agents witnessed the vicious fight between the Winter Soldier and Alex that day. But, he hadn’t been immune to hearing rumors of caution and fear.

It had pained Steve to hear whispers of agents fearing Bucky – both of them. They were different from each other, but they both carried the Winter Soldier name.

It had not just his want for the agents to not fear either Bucky, but also to make every attempt for the agents to not freeze up in the field. There was an extremely good chance that the Winter Soldier could be fighting along side, and any hesitation in the field would be deadly for the agents.

The sparring helped, and the rumors began to die, though not completely. In the end, Bucky here and now had told him to just leave the rumors be. Steve had acquiesced to his request; the Winter Soldier name was Bucky’s own to shape.

Bucky of this timeline had also quickly qualified on HALO jumps, but ran marksmanship training on SHIELD personnel with Sharon after that. Of Steve’s original timeline Bucky, Steve rarely saw him outside of the Engineering labs.

Lockdown within the engineering and science wing continued, but even Sam had remarked that he didn’t know what else the teams were developing. Strict compartmentalization had been enacted among all systems – analysts, logistics, field agents – everyone. Steve had faith that whatever was being developed, planned, analyzed, and executed, it would greatly help when they took the fight to Unit 616.

Of the information campaign, it continued, but it seemed that some of the gamble taken during the time when Dr. Faustus had been peeking through Alex’s memories had not entirely been for naught. Counterintelligence picked up on the fact that resources had been and still were being diverted by the Soviets to attempt to rebuild the shattered network.

Adding to that boon had been very unexpected news from SHIELD-Asia. Due to the location, distance, and sensitivity, Steve had learned from Peggy that Dottie and Belova’s requested assistance to help a SHIELD agent secure a 0-8-4 had been a feint.

They had instead, made contact with a rather large contingent of Soviet resistance members.

They were people whom did not understand why after the years of relative peace they had under their previous leader, these past six months had been pure chaotic upheaval. It was opposite of what Steve understood to have happened in his original timeline’s history.

The resistance members wanted to push out those brutalizing their people. It was a political minefield that seemed to not be navigable – especially in light of Unit 616’s reach. However, with Michael’s help, Peggy had managed to navigate that minefield and carefully vet and coordinate things with the group.

The group did not know whom was backing them, only that SHIELD had secured the 0-8-4 and were waiting for an opportune time to pull out of there. The resistance were to help the agents.

It was a proxy war, but not to the level that Steve had feared it would have become. Eyes were still on Philips and the 107^th activities. Reports were starting to trickle in that Unit 616 was moving towards consolidating forces at the portal.

Steve was present in Peggy’s office when she briefed the other SHIELD divisions and Philips of the operation’s name. Nothing about it was told. Ten hours were left on the clock that indicated SHIELD’s strike period that Alex knew about.

“Thank you,” Steve heard his wife state over the phone. “Godspeed to us all.”

As soon as she placed the phone firmly on the cradle, Steve stepped forward. There was a spark within her beautiful eyes that he recognized. He answered it with a confident, reassuring smile.

Operation Denali and all that it entailed was a ‘go’.

* * *

A few hours before Operation Aconcagua start…

Similar to its code named predecessor in the war: Operation Bodyguard, Operation Denali had been the launch point for deception operations. Analysts had given their reports to Peggy. Everyone involved in Operation Denali knew that it would never reached the level of deception achieved with Operation Bodyguard, but that some depths of deception was still achievable.

Now, SHIELD intelligence determined that Unit 616’s guard was at the lowest point possible. Counterintelligence had predicted another rise and wave of misinformation campaign from Unit 616 beginning soon.

The ‘go’ for Operation Aconcagua; the Operation Overlord spiritual successor against Unit 616, had only been initiated two hours ago.

Bucky had absolutely no idea where the names of Denali and Aconcagua had come from; exotic to him. It had only been Steve telling him that Denali was the true name for the Alaskan mountain, Mount McKinley. Aconcagua was named after the second most topographically isolated peak in the world. Bucky thought he began to understand Peggy’s strange naming convention.

They were well past the two week period of the purported attack on the Siberian Portal. Whatever intelligence Dr. Faustus had stolen from the memories of Alex would be rendered be useless.

The cat-and-mouse waiting game was now inching ever closer to confrontation. And in these last hours of peace and quiet, Bucky was not surprised that sleep eluded him.

It always did—

“James.”

Bucky turned. Natasha was standing at the entrance, her uncertainty not belaying or giving hints of worry about the upcoming operation. Instead, he read it in the subtle cues of her body language; the resistance to the mutual attraction and strong desire they had for each other since before Steve began his mission to return the Infinity Stones.

Back then, he couldn’t touch her; she him. She had been the guardian of the Soul Stone, brought out by Ghost Rider to help. Her touch could have dusted him – killed him. And yet, they had flirted, had verbal fun with each other.

And when she finally recovered her body after the return of the Soul Stone, she had given him a kiss just before she had left. It had been passionately sweet, but short; unable and unwilling to let the pain of what could not be, linger with either of them.

She was from a future that would never come to pass; he the past that she never experienced. Neither of them had known about resonance back then, but they had both known that whatever deeply intimate affection and attraction they had for each other could not be.

Bucky closed the distance between them in three strides. He swept her up tightly in his arms and kissed her – deeply, with all the ardor he could pour into that single action.

The press of her soft, full lips against his own sent a thrill down his spine. She gently coaxed his mouth open, the taste of her sweet. Her arms snaked up around his neck, as they broke for air.

Bucky tasted her soft, smooth skin as his lips brushed up the bridge of her nose and forehead; query to her silent. Her warm breath tickled across his chin and neck for a brief moment before she tilted her head up to kiss him again; kicking the door close – insistent in what she wanted—

—what they both wanted.

~~~

The ghostly, intimate sensations across the resonance were not uncomfortable or strong enough for Bucky to find somewhere private to take care of his needs. But, even severely muted and blocked as best as possible, he was still aware that his counterpart was having sex.

More than likely with Romanov.

“Looks like I’m not the only one who can’t sleep tonight.”

Bucky glanced behind him, not surprised to see Carter emerge onto the rooftop.

“If I remember correctly, you usually have trouble sleeping before any op,” he carefully stated, frowning slightly.

Carter nodded as he stopped next to him. “I never thanked you for what you said that day on the quinjet, nor from shielding Peggy and I from that grenade, Jame—”

“Bucky is fine,” he interrupted, shaking his head slightly.

“Bucky,” Carter repeated. “Thank you.”

The silence that fell between them felt a little awkward; Carter turning his attention onto the dark horizon. Bucky did the same, but he could hear Carter fiddling with a pack of cigarettes and lighter within his coat’s pockets. Yet, the man did not bring either of the objects out to smoke.

It was thankfully broken a few seconds later with Carter asking, “Do you have any advice on how to move on?”

Bucky furrowed his eyebrows, giving Carter a slightly bewildered look. Carter turned slightly, a slightly self-deprecating look upon his face.

“No matter where I go or live, I have to let go. It’s the only way to allow the wounds I’ve inflicted to fully heal,” Carter stated. “You’re right in the sense that someone, somewhere will eventually come for me.”

Carter turned to gaze at the horizon again. “I’ve made my amends as best as I could. If I die right here and now, or even during the operation, I think I’m in a good place to accept death. I think everyone else is as well. If I survive… well, I have to move on.”

Bucky didn’t immediately answer. It was something he grappled with every day since Steve had left. And while he was happy to see Steve here living a full life, he wasn’t afraid to admit that it had been difficult for him to swallow.

“It’s… difficult,” he began, glancing at him. “Find something to occupy yourself. It helps. It just takes time… and distance.”

Carter nodded. “Thanks.”

The handsome man made to leave, but Bucky couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t want to see him die here – or at least know that there was a possibility of death for him in the immediate future. This future was supposed to be a second chance for all – a way to make everything right.

It had gone both horribly wrong and right.

“Carter…” Bucky began, reaching out of his own accord to tug on the man’s sleeve to keep him from leaving. Peggy’s older brother halted and turned slightly, surprised.

“The offer is still open,” he said. “You can still just cross over and slip away into an anonymous life.”

The smile he received was bitter and full of sorrow. “I can’t. Even though you are different than your counterpart, you are still there in that other reality. Both of you, whom I broke my promise to.”

Bucky wasn’t sure how to interpret that oblique confession other than taking it at face value with what he remembered, and recently experienced with that kiss and apology. And yet, he strangely wasn’t willing to give up on Carter, even though he still wanted it to be a choice and not a coercion to cross realities.

“It’s easy to find something worth dying for, Carter,” he said. “Do you have anything worth living for?”

Carter gently tugged his sleeve out of Bucky’s grasp, and glanced towards the horizon again. “It had been… before Dunkirk, it had been… him. Then, it had been my rage, my want for revenge. And then once last chance to see Peggy and say that ‘I’m sorry’ when I was captured by HYDRA.”

Carter looked up. Bucky didn’t stop him from brushing gentle fingers up his face, nor stop him from resting his hand upon the side of his face. Carter’s calloused thumb softly slid over his cheek.

“Then, it had been you.”

Bucky dared not raise his hand to rest upon Carter’s own. He was not certain about his own feelings on this – on Carter, yet. Feelings rekindled, or otherwise forgotten and lost to pain.

But, he also understood just how difficult it was to make amends; almost everyone that he could make amends with in his reality was already dead. How difficult it was to relate to anyone without similar life experiences.

Carter leaned forward and kissed him; the slow press of his firm lips upon Bucky’s own a catalyst for a storm of emotions within him. Bucky was certain that Carter could feel his hesitant response; his uncertainty in reciprocating, but also his unwillingness to stop and pull away.

Bucky was breathing just slightly faster when they parted. Yet, the moment he heard Carter murmur his apology for the impertinence, he leaned slightly in to kiss the apology into silence. Then, he stepped back.

“I can’t promise that everything will be like we had during the war, if you cross,” Bucky said, quiet and hesitant.

He lightly clasped his right hand around Carter’s own still resting against his face. “But, perhaps a chance to allow both of us to reconcile. If you want that.”

“I think…” Carter began, nodding slightly as Bucky lowered their hands. “I think I’d like that. Yes. I think I can live with that. I’ll consider it.”

It wasn’t a promise made, nor to cross realities. But it was a start; a hope given to have something worth living for.

* * *

Operation Aconcagua start…

None of them were wearing anything that could identify them as SHIELD.

Black fatigued and armed to the teeth, they were all outfitted in the same manner – Steve included. Their padded fatigues, helmets, and goggles were designed to look almost exactly like nondescript, modern military fatigues.

The only thing that differentiated them from Unit 616 were that woven into the fabric were specialized threads. These worked on conjunction with the special lenses created by SHIELD Engineering, built within the goggles they all wore; identifying them as friendlies in the HUD.

Of the iconic shield of Captain America, the red-white-blues had been traded for the natural dulled silver-grey by both Sam and Steve. Each SHIELD member in the advanced group carried a similar-looking shield, titanium alloyed with aluminum; the only different was that the shields’ underside contained vials of the chemical control antidote.

Within the belly of the experimental SHIELD aircraft flown by two clandestinely and specifically requested SHIELD-North America agents, Steve saw the signal light in the cargo hold turn from red to yellow. It meant that the payload carried in the undercarriage of the aircraft had been deployed.

Moments later, the cargo bay doors opened, bringing in the bitterly cold air of the extremely high altitude and darkest part of the night. Every person within the cargo hold were already up and ready to go – pre-breathe completed.

One minute after the bay doors open, the signal light turned green – showtime.

Steve, Sam, and every SHIELD strike group member jumped.

~*~*~*~

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Captain , Agent, Soldier, Spy

“Have a seat, gentlemen.”

It wasn’t so much Peggy’s tone, but rather the words that reminded him of Philips. He sat in the offered chair, sharing a glance with his counterpart.

The debris had been removed, though furniture was still sparse. Peggy had a replacement desk, but it wasn’t full of the organized clutter that he was used to seeing. Salvaged files and other items were stacked in the corners and along the walls of her office until replacement shelving could be brought in.

Peggy pushed forward the 2012 information brick, and tapped to bring up the files she had been reviewing. The mission report and associated profile information for his counterpart executing the 1970 mission sprang up.

When Bucky didn’t feel a spark of pain through the resonance, he glanced at his counterpart. There was a decidedly neutral look on his expression, the resonance between them quiet and silent. Bucky could only surmise that his counterpart had memories of this mission.

“Agent Barnes, while I’ve considered your suggestion in the grand scheme of the operations being carried out, I don’t believe the recreation of the Winter Guard would be conducive to the plans,” Peggy began.

Bucky nodded, he expected the decision and idea to be rejected. Considering what little information there was about the Winter Guard training, along with anecdotes from Natasha during Steve’s mission to return the Infinity Stones, the training time to just even get everyone used to working together was stretching plausibility.

“However, I do see some merit in the insertion operations and subsequent evasion of detection,” Peggy continued after a moment.

She folded her hands together. “This would only be authorized for the two of you because of your skill sets. If the assault on the Siberian Portal fails, or is forced to retreat because our friends on the other side cannot get through, one or both of you will have to remain behind – acting essentially as a Trojan Horse. Independent of your resonance and experiences, I need to know if either of you can and are willing to execute this.”

“Steve’s not going to like it.”

Bucky glanced at his counterpart, they had stated that at the same time.

“D’you remember that time in the field where we stopped HYDRA’s superweapon facility, Chief?” Bucky heard his counterpart ask. “Where we found all of those people being experimented on with Zola’s serum variants?”

“Ardennes,” Bucky murmured, remembering exactly what his counterpart referred to. He focused his attention on Peggy. “Steve’s bound to come save our asses if either of us are ‘left behind’. Probably Wilson too.”

“I know,” she answered. “Agent Romanov and I are working that independently.”

Bucky w as unable to h ide his surprise. From his counterpart, all he saw was a curt nod. Bucky could only attribute it to the fact that his counterpart had worked with Natasha during the time where they had both been Soviet assets, and that these kinds of compartmentalization or ‘need-to-know’ knowledge we re closely guarded and kept.

“So what kind of Trojan Horse are you looking for, Peggy?” he asked instead.

Peggy tented her fingers. “Priority would be to clear that portal so our friends from the other side can get through. Whether that means damming up choke points or outright assassination will be up to either of you. The other concern is if Dr. Faustus will attempt to flee – not through the portal, but elsewhere and with Alex.”

Bucky glanced at his counterpart. There was no doubt in either of their minds that this was a two-person task. The only problem was that Alex under the control of Faustus had proven to be more than a problem.

It had taken not just himself, but Steve, and even Wilson, Natasha, and Sharon assisting, to fight him – and utterly fail. His counterpart had been the only one able to go toe-to-toe against Alex.

“Long range,” his counterpart quietly stated. “Shoot first, ask forgiveness later.”

In a quieter tone, Bucky heard him say, “I can’t do it.”

“You’ll kill either or both of them, won’t you?”

Bucky glanced between Peggy and his counterpart; the slightly rhetorical question stated by Peggy full of understanding. He had been in too much pain to completely witness the fight between his counterpart and Alex, but there had been a very distinct emptiness within the resonance during that time. It seemed that the fugue his counterpart had fallen into at that time, had been more dangerous than any had anticipated.

It was then that Bucky understood that even if he had inactive commands rattling around in his head, the lynch pin command that bound them all – the command that Zola never extracted in this reality – was the key. Bucky was able to accurate mimic actions, demeanor, and behavior of the Winter Soldier as a Soviet asset, but it was countless of experience that made his counterpart whom he was, while in that state.

“I can do it,” Bucky stated, just as his counterpart nodded in confirmation to Peggy’s question.

“Clear the portal, secure the doctors,” his counterpart stated after a few seconds of silence. “Any other objectives, Chief Carter?”

“Return safe, both of you.”

Breathe—heartbeat—pause—fire.

As chaotic as the battlefield was, Bucky kept himself moving from cover to cover. Each reload of a bullet in his Steyr was done while on the run, sliding into cover and pulling the trigger between heartbeats.

He hadn’t fought like this since the end of the war. Instinct, along with concentrated fire upon Steve and Sam’s teams guided where his bullets penetrated. The buzz and hum of resonance linked him and his counterpart together; their targets through their Steyrs separate but coordinated.

The dropped payloads by the pilots of the carriers had done their work – both the EMP and the concussive waves had been deployed. Several massive spiked balls that collected all of the vibranium-cutting material were all that had been left when SHIELD had dropped – their LZ clear.

Yet, neither Steve, Sam, or Bucky himself had donned their vibranium armors. The deception that transformed all SHIELD strike members to look like Unit 616, but carried similar-looking shields like Wilson and Steve, needed to be maintained as best as possible.

As the firefight continued, Bucky slid into a gouged up mound that served as a partial cover, lining up for another shot. However, his instincts screamed at him – an attack from behind.

Of course he would be picked out easily – he was sniping people and materiel. He and his counterpart weren’t following the deception plan at all. Unit 616 knew whom he was – even if they tried to peg both him and his counterpart.

Bucky lunged up, just as the burly-looking Unit 616 soldier threw a bandoleer of the same kind of spiked balls that had destroyed his counterpart’s vibranium arm. Raising his left arm, Bucky easily deflected the balls to the side; the thin adamantium coating upon his arm smelted and layered upon by his counterpart, working.

He swiftly stepped in, the split second hesitation by the Unit 616 soldier enough to not be able to get the rifle up. Bucky yanked the outstretched rifle off center, tearing the clip out of its housing. Then, he jammed his elbow up and into the soldier’s collarbone – stunning the soldier. Finally, he grasped the soldier by the front and flipped the soldier forward and into the scattered spiked balls.

As gruesome as the death was, Bucky didn’t have time to consider it. Gunfire peppered his now exposed position. He sprinted across the slippery snow, and slid into cover, just as the gunfire suddenly fell silent.

It was not yet over, as Bucky then heard the whining whir of heavy machinery directly next to him. An enormous, boxy thing emerged like a devilish prairie dog from the mound he had taken cover behind.

Bucky jammed his metal arm into the AA gun’s main housing before it could even fully rise and unfold. His fingers curled around a nest of wires and with a forceful yank, he pulled it all out. The AA gun sparked and died.

The other AA gun suddenly blew up before it was able to fully spool. Bucky landed on the ground rather painfully, but was uninjured. He scrambled up and took cover behind the husk, as the AA gun towards his rear was also destroyed; his counterpart firing his Steyr from the other side of the battlefield.

Breathe—heartbeat—pause—fire.

Reload.

Four bullets and twelve heartbeats later, Bucky saw the tell-tale sign of Sharon slipping through the portal. The AA gun he had destroyed had been close to the portal in perspective. That gun was also the last of the massive weapons Unit 616 had attempted to bring to bear.

“Retreat. All forces, retreat. Repeat: retreat. PZ half a click north.”

It sounded like any other order Bucky would have heard from Steve during battles, except that he knew the words must have been hard for Steve to say. The two of them were not used to retreating – even in childhood when fighting bullies.

As the comm chatter briefly filled with teams acknowledging and carrying out the order, he slipped one into the two-way comm, stating, “Winter Soldier acknowledges.”

A few seconds after that, he heard the equally stoic, “White Wolf acknowledges.”

Bucky quickly deactivated and crushed the comm device in his metal hand. Then he continued to fire at will swapping his Steyr for a semi-automatic rifle. He ducked and slipped into cover after cover, occasionally poking out to return fire as Unit 616 realized that they were gaining the upper hand. All the while, he made it look like he was headed towards the hot pickup zone – loose in how he ran, nothing at all in the way he usually carried himself in the battlefield.

When it looked as if nearly all SHIELD strike members were onboard – Steve and Wilson being the final two – Bucky timed his slip away into the darkness with the explosions chasing after the two.

His breath was knocked out of him as one of the mortars exploded a little too closely to him. He forced himself to leap up and away from the explosion, landing rather painfully on the snow-ice and debris covered ground.

It was agonizing to hold himself as still as a dead body, as the roar of the experimental aircraft washed over him and the dead. Whumps and the buzz of machine gunfire chased after the two escaping aircraft. Bucky heard the shouts of Unit 616 openly calling to regroup at the portal over the noise.

Yet, even when things began to die down, Bucky continued to remain still; the dead left where they were. Stragglers of Unit 616 were scavenging what they could, but most were disciplined enough to fall back when ordered.

Minutes passed in relative silence. Bucky watched the snow storm continue.

A scuffling noise beyond where he laid alerted to one of those scavengers still going to and fro from body to body. Through the specialized lenses, Bucky saw the scavenger turn over one of the unlucky SHIELD strike members.

Then, as the scavenger approached and crouched in front of him, Bucky heard the quiet, calm order from Peggy. “Go for ‘Everest Base and Summit’.”

You are a winter soldier who is ever vigilant in his defense of life and liberty.

With hardly a sound yet lightning swift, the Winter Soldier’s hands lunged up and snapped the neck of the Unit 616 soldier crouched over him. Seconds later, only a gust of icy-cold wind across the dead soldier’s body marked the Winter Soldier’s passage through the area.

~~~

Minutes earlier…

Never in his service as Captain America, had Steve ever had to order a retreat.

There had been ambushes that ended with the enemy fleeing, and the Avengers calling it in for additional firepower. Attacks that almost didn’t turn the tide were it not for one of the Howling Commandos performing a key feat that turned the tide. Or, outright defeat, such as Thanos snapping half of the galaxy away. But never a full-on call for retreat.

Yet he did so just minutes after Sharon slipped through the portal.

The bodies that laid strewn about were clad in the same black fatigues as the rest of the wore. Yet thanks to the specialized weave into the fabric and lenses within their goggles, Steve identified most of the dead as not SHIELD, but rather Unit 616.

“Retreat. All forces, retreat. Repeat: retreat. PZ half a click north.”

He called for the calculated retreat; the initial siege successful in the objective of getting Sharon through the portal. Comm encryption and associated channels were routed through the cloaked quinjet, piloted by Natasha’s counterpart, of all people.

Steve only learned of her joining SHIELD two hours before they had launch from the staging point at Muckle Skerry. He had also been slightly surprised that she chose to follow her adopted parents’ careers within SHIELD – piloting.

Initially, he had been slightly ambivalent and concerned about her joining the operation, but she was of age at eighteen years, and was legally an adult. Not to mention, she was SHIELD-North America and under Chief Thompson’s command. Her parents had had no concerns about her joining SHIELD – or the mission. Thus Steve had left it alone.

David and a couple of engineers specializing in RF communications were situated within the cloaked quinjet, managing and monitoring channels. They had also managed to interface a rather unique 0-8-4 previously found and retrieved, with the camera system of the quinjet – providing enhanced night vision and visual IFF via the specialized lenses.

Steve knew Peggy wanted to be on the ground with the strike group. But her role as Section Chief and coordinator of the operation was needed more than her boots on the ground.

It was similar to how Maria Hill had guided Steve himself, along with Sam during the mission to destroy the Helicarriers. Except Peggy now had not just the two large strike teams commanded by both Steve and Sam, but also to keep an eye on the portal itself.

Sharon’s jump through the portal to call for reinforcements was not going to be instantaneous. They knew that those on the other side held the line and were more than likely able to push any attempt at further incursion by Unit 616 back.

They just didn’t know when Sharon would return with reinforcements.

It was a waiting game, and Peggy refused to leave the teams on the ground to defend the portal. During the initial ambush – which utilized several enhanced concussive EMPs successfully created, built, and deployed – the majority of the team had dropped into the hot zone.

A smaller team had peeled off to sabotage any attempts by Unit 616 to get their birds into the air. Bucky – both of them – had taken out as many tanks, transports, and AA guns using what was left of the anti-materiel rifles they had initially used at the Siberian lake.

“Winter Soldier acknowledges,” Steve heard Bucky’s curt, crisp tone through the acknowledgments coming through the comm frequency.

“White Wolf acknowledges.”

The tiny knot of worry within his chest that Steve hadn’t realized had been there, loosened.

Bucky, silver-armed, had reclaimed the Winter Soldier moniker – strangely at the insistence of his counterpart. Adamantium-armed Bucky had taken back up the White Wolf call sign. Both of their acknowledgments at the retreat order gave Steve confidence that neither were going to strike out on their own.

“Laying some covering fire to the east,” he heard Sam state.

Moments later Steve saw the bright clouds of fiery explosions mixing with snow; Sam firing micro-missiles. It was quickly answered with the buzzing patter of machine gun fire trying to take him down.

Two more missiles spat out from Sam’s wings, just as Steve heard Michael say, “Thanks for the save, Falcon.”

Whatever else was exchanged between the two was briefly lost. Steve pivoted around as the buzz of closer rifle fire snapped at the ground between him and the other SHIELD strike members trying to make it to the PZ.

He briefly charged at the nearest Unit 616 soldier, just as a flash of black appeared out of the corner of his eyes. Natasha’s style of attack was distinct, as she leapt in and struck two Unit 616 soldiers with her concealed Widow’s Bite, while Steve swung his shield up and into the other soldier.

Taking the grenades from the fallen soldier, he primed both and tossed them at the incoming group, forcing them to scatter for a brief moment. Sam’s scattered array of missiles and sub-machine gun fire briefly kept them at bay.

Steve saw a scattered few SHIELD strike members who had been briefly cut off before Sam’s intervention, scramble towards the waiting aircraft. He could only assume Michael was among them; every SHIELD member identical in appearance except for their heights.

Both he and Sam traded grenades, gunfire, and a few explosions with Unit 616 before dashing into their respective aircraft. Even before Steve fully scrambled up the ramp, it was already closing, and the aircraft quickly pulled out of the hot zone.

The sharp scent of gunfire and explosives lingered, as SHIELD strike members murmured among themselves. Some checked over others for potential injuries, others traded magazines or even helped restocked from what was left within the cargo hold.

“Hey Steve,” Steve heard the tinny voice of Sam over localized frequency. They were stretching the limits of point-to-point contact between the two aircraft. “Both Bucky checked in, right?”

Steve glanced around the cargo hold. While all of SHIELD were all wearing the same outfits, Bucky still had a distinct countenance about him that Steve was able to identify among crowds. It stemmed from knowing Bucky his entire life, and how he behaved, even when blended among people.

He didn’t see Bucky – either of them – in the cargo hold.

“Where’s Bucky?”

A few SHIELD personnel shifted, looking at each other, then around. One or two shook their heads; no one knew where Bucky was. Steve saw Michael push his way through and stop before him, concerned.

Steve briefly pressed his ear to activate the comm frequency connecting him to Sam again. “Sam, neither of them are here—”

“Go for ‘Everest Base and Summit’.”

Steve fell silent. He wasn’t the only one to start at the unexpected order from Peggy. Others within the cargo hold, including Michael were looking slightly confused.

“Four winks. They are go, Chief,” came the soft but firm acknowledgment through the comm. The voice sounded like a younger version of Natasha.

Steve realized that it had been Natalie who had issued the acknowledgment. On the heel of that came the realization that Peggy had initiated a hidden plan, and it more than likely involved Bucky – both of them. However, it didn’t account for the other two of the four ‘winks’.

He wasn’t angry or annoyed that his wife had kept things from him; operational details, contingency, or even secret plans. It was as they had discovered too late when none had realized how Unit 616 was retrieving information from SHIELD.

They had had to compartmentalize; Peggy had done so.

Steve thought it beautifully, aptly executed—

“Godspeed to Everest,” he heard Michael murmur. Yet, his brother-in-law did not state anything else when Peggy’s voice crackled into the general frequency again.

“Carriers, standby for hot redeploy,” Peggy crisply ordered.

Steve felt the experimental aircraft he and part of the SHIELD strike group were within, shift. The pilot was performing a maneuver to bring them to a higher altitude and a slight dip that angled the aircraft nose-down ever so slightly.

Steve reached up to grab the ceiling strap within the cargo hold. Several other members of SHIELD who had seen him do that, did the same as well. Whenever the ‘go’ would be given for a redeploy, Steve was fairly certain that it would involve an extremely steep, fast dive.

~~~

‘Operation Everest Summit’.

The Winter Soldier slipped in and out of the shadows of charred husks of what used to be various aircraft, tanks, and other personnel transports. In the dying embers of firelight, the path forward to the massive building in the distance was unobstructed.

He arrived without incident and rappelled up with a titanium-reinforced woven grappling hook and line. Swiftly climbing, the Winter Soldier paused on the rooftop, carefully surveying his surroundings. The specialized lenses marked the other operative of the mission still hidden and still setting up explosives.

Of the enemy, they ran to and fro, gathering supplies and reset defensive positions. Some dragged their compatriots’ dead bodies to burn pits. None spotted him upon the rooftop.

The Winter Soldier made his way to the ventilation shaft; the only way in. There was no cover, and with the grappling hook secured, he silently slipped in.

Rifle forward and with silent steps, the Winter Soldier carefully crept across the seemingly abandoned factory-building. His targets had not shown themselves at all during the battle, but it was clear orders were being issued from a close location. The only logical place was this building.

“Double green from Everest Base team. ETA one hour.”

The Winter Soldier did not acknowledge the softly stated status update from the other team. All he knew of the mission was that it assisted in this current one; the Black Widows assigned to it sending angry, riotous civilians to Moscow. The two Widows were to return to this position once their mission was completed, their ETA mentioned.

Room by empty husk of ruined rooms, the Winter Soldier cleared the top floor; a slow process but necessary. The stairwells that led to the next three floors were blown out. A simple jump and swing on rebar still jammed in concrete allowed him to land lightly on the next floor.

Yet, half-way into clearing the floor, the Winter Soldier sensed that he was not alone.

Whisper quiet, he turned. The first target was standing at the threshold of a bullet-ridden room, menacing in appearance. The target bared his teeth at him; the Winter Soldier kept his rifle trained upon the target.

Neither moved for several heartbeats.

It was the scrape of footsteps, of an older person walking across the filthy floor, that caused the Winter Soldier to narrow his eyes ever so slightly. Behind the first target, the second target appeared; advanced in age yet with a dangerous aura about him.

“Ah, the mimic,” the second target stated. “I wonder… can you actually fight just like the one true Winter Soldier? I’ve always wanted to test that theory after witnessing and experiencing such savagery within SHIELD-Europe’s halls through my counterpart here.”

The Winter Soldier focused his attention onto the more immediate threat – the first target. There was a handgun within the second target’s clasped hands, but it was not a clear or present danger.

“Carriers, drop-drop-drop!”

The Winter Soldier’s eyes did not move from the immediate threat before him; the stance of the second target behind the immediate threat changing ever so slightly. It was clear that both had heard the buzz of the comm piece within his ear; indiscernible in dialogue, but clearly still heard.

Two slow and steady heartbeats later, the Winter Soldier attacked.

~~~

Undulating ripples from the portal via the specialized night vision lenses upon the quinjet’s cameras alerted Peggy to the incoming tide of reinforcements. “Carriers, drop-drop-drop!” she ordered, before rattling off the vector and location information for the drop.

At nearly the same time, a new, boisterously cheerful voice blasted across the encrypted comm frequency. “Hey! Oh shit—! I forgot how fucking cold it was here in this shithole!”

The woman’s exclamation was lost to the chatter coming from Steve, Sam, and others. With expert handling and skills, the two pilots of the carriers dropped the SHIELD strike teams on the edge of where Unit 616 had gathered for reinforcements upon the portal. At nearly the same time, the 3-dimensional map showed an outpouring of people coming through the portal.

“Red Widows, incoming relative east. Watch the shields,” the crisp and calm voice of Natasha interjected across the scratchy comm.

“Copy, Nat,” came the woman who had stated the cheerful initial greeting. “<Hey Alina, Jade, Carmen, and Helen! We got bogeys at nine! Take those fuckers out and don’t hit the silverware!>”

The orders that the other woman through the comm had given to her compatriots were in Russian. For a brief moment, Peggy and those standing around the quinjet’s circular projector console saw a rather enormous surge of those coming from the portal head in the direction that Natasha had indicated.

It was chaotic – the clash of Unit 616 being pinched between SHIELD and whatever defended the portal from the other side. Even the 3D map system did nothing to make it clearer, the coordination was kept firm and steady by Peggy and her small team of controllers.

Explosions ripped through the west and southern parts of the map; planted by black-armed Bucky during the interregnum of Aconcagua, and execution of Everest Summit. Unit 616 was now effectively penned in on all sides.

Peggy quickly took a look at the status of Everest Base – Dottie and Belova; their statuses had not changed from the initial check-in. She didn’t expect to hear from the two so soon anyways; point-to-point comm was expected to be somewhat ratty.

It didn’t escape Peggy’s notice at just how white-knuckled David’s curled hands were, resting on the circular console. It was not just the operations launched, that worried him. Peggy knew he worried about certain persons, even though he also cared about people within SHIELD as a whole. Yet her Chief Engineer did not say a word and continued to monitor the channels with his fellows, and systems being used to funnel information into the console.

“Chief! Red—!” Natalie, whom was helping monitor, started. She was the pilot of the quinjet, had set the autopilot on hover, and occasionally traveled back and forth to monitor just how long they had until the cloaking mechanism expired.

Peggy’s eyes immediately darted to the status of Everest Summit – Bucky and Bucky running the operation that had utilized elements of HYDRA’s ploy against SHIELD in 1970 Bucharest. Silver-armed Bucky’s status light was burning red, not blinking red.

“Localized comm to White Wolf now,” she immediately ordered. Bucky’s distress call did not need to be advertised to those carrying out Aconcagua.

Peggy did not want to do this; did not want to send the former Soviet asset against her brother. She had seen, witnessed, just how horrifically brutal Bucky as the Winter Soldier, fought that day; coldly efficient and without remorse. It paled in comparison to how she knew Bucky here and now fought; demeanor included.

Yet, Peggy could not let Bucky here and now die. She had to force herself to believe that the two times Bucky of Steve’s original timeline had snapped out of his fugue meant that he could snap out of his one before Alex died.

“Ma’am,” one of the RF engineers stated, nodding.

“White Wolf, red on main,” she stated into the comm.

Peggy quickly pulling the projected camera feed that was trained on the large structure that silver-armed Bucky had slipped into during Everest Summit. The camera’s specifications and modified lenses were not powerful enough to penetrate layers of concrete and steel, but Peggy saw the fuzzy outline of what looked like three people within.

Two looked locked in a macabre dance – more than likely Bucky fighting Alex.

“Second floor from the top,” she gave Bucky’s counterpart the location. “Double-time, soldier!”

A single burning green light answered; Bucky, White Wolf, was on his way.

Peggy nodded towards the engineer to disconnect and put her back onto the main comm. There was nothing else she could do; the two Bucky now only connected only by a one-way comm and light system for security and secrecy purposes.

As the chatter flowed back, she silently indicated to Natalie to monitor the feed for both the Everest Summit and Base teams. The young woman merely nodded in acknowledgment, whatever worry she had, hidden behind a firm mask of stoicism.

“Falcon, scaffolding on south has more explosives,” she stated over comm, directing Sam to the left over explosives that she had seen Bucky plant, but did not detonate.

“Copy, Control,” came Sam’s crisp answer that contained a hint of satisfaction.

The 3D map lit up with further explosions, driving Unit 616 who were trying to force an escape route to turn back. As the battle continued, Peggy continued to issue orders when absolutely necessary – especially when Steve or Sam were not in an area where they could see Unit 616 attempting to rally and ambush.

Steve had tactical command, calling on the ground. Sam and a few other apparent ‘Red Widows’ or reinforcements whom had jetpacks of sorts were assisting. It was when similar-looking quinjets and even aircraft bearing a signature sleek look of the future flew from the portal, that Peggy knew the tide had finally turned.

“Chief, double winking green from Everest Base,” Natalie stated, interrupting her observations.

That was the signal that indicated that Dottie and Belova were close on approach. Peggy surmised that they saw the futuristic aircraft dog fighting in the skies above, along with the billows of black smoke. They were cautious on approach – with good reason.

“Comm, get me a direct line to Everest Base, our Black Widow and Department X’s Black Widow,” she ordered.

“On it, ma’am,” one of the engineers stated.

There was a slight fizzling squeal across Peggy’s ears, then her engineer nodded for her to speak. “Second floor from the top,” she ordered the two Black Widows.

There was thus far, nothing from either Bucky about their statuses; Peggy was more than concerned. The quinjet’s enhanced camera that had been trained on the building had fuzzed enough that it was almost useless. Attempts by David real-time to fix the interference wasn’t working.

Two burning winks of green answered her order.

She was swapped back to the main frequency, just in time to hear the woman whom had ordered ‘Red Widows’ to issue another series of targets to take down. That was swiftly accompanied by a line of explosions in the western quadrant.

Stubborn as hell, Unit 616 did not surrender easily. The fight dragged on for another quarter of an hour before the scattered few of what was left of Unit 616 at the Siberian Portal finally surrendered.

Even then, Peggy waited for Steve, Sam, and others to chime in with the all clear. Yet, before she ordered the carriers and Natalie to land the quinjet, four burning green lights displayed on the console area where the young woman was caught her attention.

Then, she saw Bucky – one of them – being to wink amber. It took her a moment to realize he was communicating in Morse code.

“Faustus captured. Repeat, Faustus captured,” she stated over comm. “Requesting medevac to Department X’s building. Repeat: medevac requested. Fourth floor from the top.”

“On it, Control,” Sam stated.

“We’re on our way,” Natasha chimed in at nearly the same time.

Nodding to Natalie, the young woman returned to the cockpit. Peggy took a deep breath and slowly let it out. She met the eyes of David along with the other engineers; relieved that it was over.

* * *

The dead numbered more than Steve wanted, which was zero, but knew that it had been an impossibility. But, for the enormous gulf between realities in terms of technology, casualties were lower than what SHIELD analysts had predicted.

Thanks to the enormous amount of compartmentalization and secrecy enacted after Alex had been taken, they had managed to fool Unit 616 with not just the outfits and fighting styles, but also with the multiple replica shields. Added to that had been the antidotes that key personnel had carried with them.

Then, there were the reinforcements called in by Sharon; nearly forty Red Widows of the modern Red Room whom had been freed. Natasha’s ‘sisters’. Unexpectedly, a few of Sam’s buddies he worked with had also joined in the battle, lending firepower and becoming the tipping point in pushing Unit 616 into surrender.

Of Alex and his counterpart, both had been knocked out by both Bucky; Operation Everest Summit. Steve had taken a quick look at the temporary shelter set up in the still aftermath of a Siberian snowstorm – both still sedated. The doctor/scientist assessing and tended to both had been none other than Melina Vostokoff.

It had made Steve slightly uneasy that a former Soviet doctor who had had experimented and even created the chemical control formula was examining both Alex. However, Natasha had stated her trust in her; Steve had not stopped Vostokoff.

“Wow, so you’re the original Captain America.”

Steve glanced to his right. One of Natasha’s ‘sisters’ approached, blonde-brown hair pulled back into a ponytail and dressed in white fatigues with what looked like Natasha’s vest. She carried an assortment of weapons, most of them sharp implements, but it was the bracers upon her arms, glowing with tiny dots of red, that gave her away.

He wasn’t quite sure how to react to her words, the clear tinge of sarcasm and awe coloring the young woman’s voice. It was not the first time he had heard such a tone being used, but it was usually reserved for enemies and their boasting before Steve and his team kicked their asses six-ways to Sunday.

Steve also belatedly realize that it was her voice that had broken through the comm, announcing the Red Widows’ arrival through the portal. The one who had stated how much she had forgotten how cold it was in the Siberian wastelands.

“Hey. Thanks for helping out back there, ma’am,” he decided to be disarmingly friendly instead. At the same time, he held his hand out for her to shake.

She broke out in the a wide smile, her monosyllabic laughter clearly showing her glee at such a reaction. “Ma’am” she chuckled, shaking his hand. “Wow…”

“Yelena…”

Steve let go of her hand at the same time the young woman did as well. Both turned towards Natasha’s rather exasperated calling of the young woman’s name.

“What, Natasha?” the young woman, Yelena, said, annoyed.

“Come on,” she said, slinging her arm around the young woman, the action affectionate and sisterly-like. “Leave Steve be. I want you to meet someone!”

Steve briefly watched as Yelena argued with Natasha about something or another, before he started off. He was not surprised that the two followed; it seemed that their destination were relatively the same.

Bucky – both of them, were sitting near the ruins of some charred and twisted piece of metal. Adamantium-armed Bucky was already bandaged up, while silver-armed Bucky was being tended to by Sam. A little ways away, Sharon was fussing over Michael, who was clearly not very happy at being treated like he was more injured than he apparently seemed. Belova was just watching him and her daughter from another reality with a puzzled expression.

It seemed that Natasha’s destination was towards Sharon, Michael and Belova, as Steve saw the two peel off. He approached the two Bucky and Sam.

“Hey. How’s the resonance?” he asked, as he saw adamantium-armed Bucky rub at his temple for a brief moment.

The two shared a silent look with each other, prompting Sam to chuckle. “You remember that time when you threw up on the roller coaster at Coney Island, Steve?” silver-armed Bucky questioned.

“Yeah?”

“Think about how you felt just before you threw up,” adamantium-armed Bucky stated. “Kinda like that.”

“You guys need—” Steve began, slightly concerned, but didn’t get to finish his question when a rather loud, cheerful bark of laughter came from where Natasha and the others were.

“Oh geez,” the young woman named Yelena began, burying her head in the palm of her hand in mirth. “No creative bone in their—”

Steve could not help but raise his eyebrows in shock at just how filthy the woman’s mouth was. Said no less in Russian. He was not the only one to stare at the young woman in surprise; Michael, Sharon, and even both Bucky were staring at her.

“Wait, what did she say, Bucky?” Sam asked. Of those gathered, Sam was the only one who did not understand Russian.

“She’s Yelena Belova,” adamantium-armed Bucky stated instead of answering Sam’s question.

“Wait, Yelena Belova?” Sam asked. “But isn’t that—”

“The modern Red Room apparently doesn’t or did not have any creativity in aliasing the first few Widows they produced,” Bucky explained. “Romanov gave me the dossier list of the names used. She didn’t know if it would trigger memories or reactions, or not. Twenty of the twenty-three Widows I killed over the course of seventy years had had their aliases reused. Including Yelena Belova.”

“Huh,” was all Sam stated.

Steve nodded. The fact that Bucky of his original timeline was able to say such a thing without the complications, guilt, and everything that came with it told Steve that he was moving on. That the terrible past was slowly being put behind him. It heartened Steve to hear and see such a thing.

“She’s… not what I expected in how a Widow typically behaves,” silver-armed Bucky began.

Adamantium-armed Bucky didn’t answer and merely snorted. That in turn caused both of them to wince, with silver-armed Bucky briefly clutching at his head while glaring at his counterpart.

“Do you guys need ice packs or something?” Steve asked, concerned.

“Steve. We’re sitting in a snow-covered shithole,” adamantium-armed Bucky stated, incredulous.

“Yes! Another who agrees with me!”

Bluntly cheerful, the young woman immediately came over, her grin slightly predatory-looking to Steve. He was further surprised when adamantium-armed Bucky merely reached for his Steyr and held it up – clearly inviting her to take it.

Yelena took the weapon. Bucky, head in a hand and clearly trying to deal with a headache or the nausea of resonance, gestured towards the vicinity of the portal where there were fresh plastic crates brought in from the other side. “Ammo bag was dropped somewhere there.”

The young woman merely smirked before leaving.

“Barnes?” Natasha began, clearly not happy about something as she approached the four of them. “Did you start to train her before or after she tried to kill Clint?”

“After, Red. I know she’s your sister. And why the fuck do you think would I allow her to kill Barton? She’s been on the straight and narrow for a while now.”

“Retiring soon then?” Natasha questioned.

The curious, public conversation was interrupted as Steve saw Vostokoff approach. “Captain Rogers.”

“Dr. Vostokoff,” Steve politely greeted.

The woman briefly looked around at those gathered, her eyes passing over both Bucky without any sort of reaction. Steve didn’t see any hints of recognition or disturbance in adamantium-armed Bucky’s eyes either.

“I have completed my assessments. Chief Carter is waiting in the tent for the briefing, Captain.”

“All right,” Steve nodded, before glancing at Michael and Sharon. “Can Michael and Sharon attend the briefing, Doctor? Michael is Alex’s brother. Sharon was the one who investigated Dr. Faustus.”

Considering that he had seen Sharon’s heartbroken reaction towards the discovery of the fact that Dr. Faustus was indeed her not-dead father, Steve didn’t want to hurt her even further by mentioning a familial connection. It was probably a somewhat open secret, but Steve hoped for some propriety among everyone when it came to something like this.

Her eyes flicked over to the two, considering the request for a brief moment. “I do not see any harm in allowing them to hear of it.”

Sam’s brief hand of reassurance on Steve’s shoulder was all that Steve needed to know that he would watch over everyone else. Together, Steve, Michael, and Sharon made their way to the tent near the portal.

Peggy turned slightly as the three of them entered the tent; the portable heater running on a gas generator making the place warm. She held herself tightly as she returned her attention to the two people laying sedated on cots.

Steve slipped an arm around her shoulders, holding her close.

“They have been both cleared of any chemical alterations that either may have been doused with. The blood work shows both as clean,” Vostokoff began without preamble. “However, Dr. Carter’s blood work does show signs of a variant super-soldier serum that I have never seen before – even when compared to the many variants people had developed over the years in our reality.”

“So he was transformed in another reality?” Steve asked.

“Quite possibly, yes,” Vostokoff answered. “The largest problem is that his variant does not allow for an easy extraction of the chip buried between the bottom of the skull and sixth vertebrae. It heals too quickly.”

She reached out and gently turned Alex to the side, pointing to the barely-seen protrusion that was not covered in a massive amount of bruises already showing signs of yellowing. Then, she put Alex back in his original position

Vostokoff continued, “I have never seen such a chip before; the prototypes and development of such a thing after the Winter Guard had been injected with the Stark serum and gone mad, shuttered. It had been deemed too complex and expensive to create – even if in an attempt to regain control of the Winter Guard.”

“The Soviet Union also fell shortly after that,” Sharon pointed out.

Vostokoff nodded but didn’t deign to answer. She went over to Dr. Faustus and gently turned him to the side.

“Dr. Faustus also has a similar chip, but no markers of a super-soldier serum within him,” Vostokoff continued. “Based on the theories your people have informed me about resonance, it is possible Dr. Faustus was the controller, and Dr. Carter the puppet.”

Steve winced slightly at the choice of words that the doctor used. Yet, it was Michael who asked in a hard tone, “And?”

“Removing the chip from either one of them may kill them,” Vostokoff stated. “I have also discovered that the chip Dr. Faustus has within him may be the control system to the portal itself. My attempts at a closer examination yielded deeply fluctuating readings within the portal.”

“And no generator providing such power has been found yet,” Peggy murmured, frowning as she tapped her chin.

“Removal of the chip may not work, Chief Carter,” Vostokoff continued. “But the threat would be eliminated.”

“Remove Dr. Faustus’ chip.”

Steve wasn’t the only one to turn to stare at Sharon in alarm. Her hands were curled into tight fists. Yet, the distraught expression on her face did not match the anger in her eyes.

“Remove Dr. Faustus’ chip on the other side, Dr. Vostokoff,” Sharon stated again. “Dad… Alex here should be able to continue to live normally and a full life here, even with a chip in his head, right, Dr. Vostokoff?”

The former Soviet scientist nodded. “With my assessments, yes.”

“Good,” Sharon curtly stated. “Pack up and get Dr. Faustus across as soon as possible, Dr. Vostokoff. We’ll cut off HYDRA’s head permanently here. We can clean up the mess on our side.”

“Sharon—”

“Don’t!” She shook off Michael’s hand upon her arm. Peggy had paused half-way in reaching out to comfort her. Steve watched her stomp out of the tent, angrily wiping tears from her eyes.

Michael went after her. Peggy’s brief, saddened look turned up towards Steve. He tightened his arm around her for a brief moment.

They had no other choice; no other expert to call upon on short notice to help them with this.

“Do it,” both he and Peggy stated at the same time.

He glanced down at his wife and nodded, acquiescing to her command. His role in all of this was to help, to lead when necessary, and at the moment, this was a SHIELD matter he had no right to weigh in about.

“Do it,” Peggy repeated, stepping out of Steve’s comforting embrace. “Unit 616 may still have some scattered allies and assets, but they are far and few in between. Close the portal from the other side, Dr. Vostokoff. We’ve all lingered for far too long here.”

* * *

Goodbyes were said and made. Supplies and the temporary tents had been either brought back onto the waiting carriers, or through the portal. Large chunks of Unit 616 technology that had not been sufficiently burned nor destroyed were transported back to the other reality.

It was a sort of subdue yet controlled chaos, and soon, Peggy saw the two Red Widows pick up the stretcher bearing the still unconscious body of Dr. Faustus. They looked more like pall bearers than Widows armed for combat, with the deliberately even steps they took.

Everyone – black-armed Bucky, Sam, Natasha, and even Sharon were already on the other side. The goodbyes had both been tearful and happy to those they knew.

Peggy herself had even received a gentleman’s kiss on the back of her hand by Sam. Meanwhile, almost everyone had had to look away at the rather steamy goodbye kiss between Bucky of this reality, and Natasha.

She knew that while Steve and Bucky would have liked for the four to be the last to leave, it was too risky. If perchance Dr. Faustus’ travel closed the portal without destroying the chip, no one was to be left behind.

The Widows and their payload disappeared over the ripple in the Siberian dawn. Seconds later, the portal disappeared, a brief spark of light zipping up from the ground to the sky.

Peggy breathed out a sigh – of relief and of sadness.

“Come on,” Bucky said from the other side of Steve. “Our ride home is waiting.”

Peggy turned, grasping Steve’s hand within her own. Yet, something, or rather someone was missing from those who had stood next to her, lingering to watch the other reality’s people cross and seal.

Horror chased by despair and worry filled her. “Michael?” she shouted.

Her brother did not emerge from the carriers. Peggy turned towards where the portal had been, as despairing realization and heartache filled her. She was barely aware that Steve was on one side of her, and Bucky on the other. Both kept her standing.

“Michael!” she cried.

~*~*~*~

Epilogue

New York City, 2020s…

“Hey, man, heard that the thesis defense went well. Congrats!”

The edges of Bucky’s lips quirked up in a smile as he pressed the button to summon the elevator. “Thanks, Sam.”

There was some strange background noise that Bucky couldn’t readily identify over the phone before he heard Sam ask, “You gonna be celebrating tonight?”

“Yeah…?” he said, getting in and pressing the button for the floor. “You in town or something?”

It wasn’t ideal, but he could make it work. Any opportunity to catch up with Sam was always welcomed; the last few weeks – months, really – had been quite intense in work, research, and new data to present. Added to that had been his rescheduled thesis defense. He had had barely any contact with the ‘outside’ world.

“You sound busy, Bucky,” Sam teased, chuckling. The elevator doors pinged and stopped, opening.

Bucky stepped out into the quiet hall. He briefly lifted the phone and stared at it, before placing it back against his ear. “I got a date.”

Silence answered him as he made his way down the hall, looking for the apartment number. Then, Sam squawked, “Wait. What?! Holy shit—”

“I got time to catch up with you tomorrow, Sam. Just let me know when and where,” Bucky firmly stated, as he stopped before the door.

He hung up before Sam’s insistence at knowing the details of ‘who, where, and whatever else’ about his date could increase in volume. Sighing and tucking the phone into a pocket, Bucky reached out and knocked on the door.

It opened a few seconds later, his date looking slightly sheepish and shy. It was a far cry from the confident, suave demeanor that he remembered from long ago memories. Living in this reality in relative peace for the past few months, without the past dragging like shackles, seemed to have done wonders.

“Hey,” Bucky warmly greeted.

The hesitancy and uncertainty that graced Michael Carter’s expression melted away with that single greeting.

“Hey,” he answered.

Wordlessly, Bucky stepped to the side as Michael collected his keys and stepped out, locking the apartment. They walked down the quiet hall to the elevator. Though their fingers lightly brushed against each other, Bucky refrained from reaching out to entwine them together.

It had only been months since the resonance-induced portal had been closed. Bucky knew that it took more than a few months to fully settle in a new life; himself having experienced it, and from late-night discussions with Sam on how Steve had attempted to settle.

Not only did it require time to fully go through the phases of culture shock, even if only ~ 70 years removed, there were also a lot of technology and history to absorb. History that hadn’t happened in that other reality, but shaped the world here, as it was right now.

One of them being the fact that at least half of the world did not give one damn if someone was not ‘traditional’ in their preferences. Bucky found it relieving and incredibly freeing to live in such a society; even if it was consistently loud, chaotic, and downright bizarre in other aspects.

Michael was still adjusting to a new life; Bucky did not press, push, or impose. The grace and understanding given to him during the war was reciprocated here and now. Additionally, they were still trying to reconcile.

The elevator ride down to the ground floor was quiet, but just before the lift stopped, he felt Michael reach out and curl the tips of his fingers against Bucky’s own. Silently, he glanced at him, inquiring wordlessly. Michael’s action became a little firmer and confident, lightly entwining their fingers together.

They walked out of the elevator and through the lobby. As they exited into the noisy city, they walked hand-in-hand down the block. No one batted an eye at either of them.

Bucky smiled; grateful that he was finally able to let go and perhaps, had finally found a small measure of peace.

* * *

London, 1967…

Relief like no other hit Bucky as he closed the door to his home. He heard the clink of keys onto the small bowl on the table; Steve taking a few more steps into the house before turning around.

Days worth of mail were stacked up on the table. From what Bucky saw from the hall, the rest of the home had been dusted. Everything not food or drink had been left as it had been when he had left for his mission.

“You all right, Buck?” he heard Steve gently ask.

“Yeah,” he answered.

He dropped the satchel that contained not just his uniform, but also change of clothing during the mission. It had been a routine, sedate, and peaceful mission. Nothing like the harrowing ones he had undertaken before, as the Winter Soldier.

‘Routine, sedate, and peaceful’; words that Bucky thought he’d never use to now describe his work for SHIELD – nor a mission.

It finally looked like peace was becoming the new reality within the world. Bucky had been in Berlin, watching the wall fall. He had heard in both TV broadcast and on radio that tensions between various countries in Asia and the Middle East were cooling; the UN continuing to strongly urge for dialogue – nations and leaders listening.

Steve had picked Bucky up from the airfield; smiling that warm, welcoming smile of his. They had both rather enjoyed the leisurely drive from the airfield to SHIELD-Europe Headquarters, and then now to here to Bucky’s home.

“If you’re tired from all that traveling…” Steve began, hesitant as he scratched the back of his head.

Bucky met his eyes, grinning. “Tired, a little,” he admitted. “But not enough to not want to see everyone I’ve missed.”

It was supposed to have been a ‘surprise’ party. However, because Bucky had been briefly delayed in returning home due to the Berlin Wall unexpectedly being torn down, he had been outright informed of the party.

It had been rescheduled; Bucky had given the date he wanted it to be held – today. His family – his elderly mother, sisters and their spouses – were currently in London to celebrate his belated birthday, as were several friends, including a few from various SHIELD sections.

Steve had informed him on the drive from the airfield that everyone was making their way to the Carter-Rogers house – directly next door; Peggy and Steve hosting the celebration. Bucky’s own apartment home remained empty, in the event he was too tired from traveling and needed to retire early.

He stepped closer to his best friend. “Thank you, for arranging the get together.”

“It’s your birthday, Bucky, even if it’s a little late,” Steve said, smiling before closing the distance to firmly embrace him. “Happy Birthday.”

Bucky sighed, fondly and slightly overwhelmed as he returned the embrace. “Fifty. I’m now over the hill.”

“No you’re not,” Steve softly whispered.

Bucky had felt Steve teasingly nip at his ear with those words. Then, Steve shifted, his right hand sliding up to cup the back of Bucky’s neck, while his left gently pressed against Bucky’s hip. Their foreheads touched, resting gently against each other.

Bucky’s own hands had shifted accordingly as well; his and Steve’s comfortable equilibrium in their relationship, friendship – everything in between and more. Nevertheless, the soothing moment of quiet intimacy was broken as soon as both of them heard the faint click of the back door directly down the long hall opening—

“Ugh, Dad…Uncle Bucky…”

Bucky was unable to contain his laughter; the noise of annoyance at the very mild display of affection between himself and Steve, breaking the mood. He heard Steve’s brief hum of equal annoyance at being disturbed by his own just-turned thirteen-year-old daughter.

He let go first, and deliberately stepped away; Steve no doubt wanting to make it just a little more petty at being disturbed when the rear door was supposed to have been locked. Bucky didn’t want to tease Steve and Peggy’s daughter even further; the intimate mood had already been ruined.

“Caroline Sarah Carter,” he heard Steve admonish in his sternest tone. “What did I tell you about lock-picking, especially using them on family?”

“But I was getting bored from babysitting Sam and Sharon, Dad… Your car is parked outside—”

“Caroline—”

Bucky stepped forward and placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Steve fell silent, and Bucky shook his head at him. He understood and knew Steve was thoroughly annoyed at the fact that Caroline had essentially violated their privacy – using skills that he, Bucky, had taught her. But, the teenager was right – they were neglecting the guests.

“What Caroline did was wrong,” he agreed. “But, if she can lock the door the same way she unlocked it, and sneak back into the party without anyone – except for Peggy and my mother – being the wiser, can we agree to drop whatever punishment you had in store, Steve?”

Steve sighed; the hopeful, grateful look on the teenager’s expression turned to him. “Fine.”

“Thank you, Dad, and welcome home, Uncle Bucky!” Caroline chirped, and rushed up to give each of them a brief hug. “I’ll let Mom know you’ll both be there in a half-hour,” she said, before scampering away.

As the door closed and the soft scrape of the tools that Steve’s daughter had used, scratched at the lock again, Bucky shared an amused smile with Steve. It was met with a slightly exasperated look.

Steve and Peggy’s children – a daughter and son – had been born after Alex had safely solved the problem of Steve’s serum potentially being life-threatening to Peggy’s ability to safely carry and give birth to children. In the course of that research, Alex had also privately given Bucky bad news: Zola’s variant serum within him had made him sterile.

It had been devastating to hear, but Bucky had informed both Peggy and Steve of it. Adoption was still in the cards, but with his career in SHIELD and the amount of time he spent at home, it wasn’t fair to any child Bucky would have adopted. He also had not wanted to saddle Steve – whom stayed at home for the most part to raise the two children, Caroline and Sam – with an additional child.

The place in their home and hearts that Steve and Peggy carved for him, filled him with happiness and satisfaction. Additionally, they had both included him in their two children’s lives – not just as an honorary uncle, but as an equal partner.

Though his relationship was primarily with Steve, there was still fond affection between himself and Peggy. It was an arrangement that none of them hid from the children, nor pressed upon the children to accept; allowing the children full autonomy and explanations whenever asked.

“Can she actually lock it?” Steve asked, as the scraping noise continued.

“Doubting my skills in passing them along?” Bucky chuckled.

Not a few seconds later, a faint click was heard – the lock had engaged.

Bucky snorted. “It’s sneaking back into the party – in a house full of spies, mind you – that’s the more tricky part, punk.”

“Apt enough punishment then,” Steve sighed. Then, those warm eyes of his were turned to Bucky, sparkling with slight playfulness. “She gave us a half-hour…”

Bucky shook his head, even if the unexpected offer by Caroline for an excuse to give to their guests, was generous. He was able to cool and control himself. The guests – his friends and family – were waiting, and he wanted to see them.

“Later tonight, Steve?” he asked; they had time.

A sun-bright smile haloed with the intimacy of those beautiful blue-green eyes answered him. “Yeah. It’s a promise, Bucky.”

~*~*~*~

FINI