Chapter Text
Steve supposes he should have expected this to happen eventually.
Things had been going well actually. Tony had just recently gotten all the legal paperwork wrangled to finally showcase the BARF tech, and had started working on marketing it as a therapy tool. As an added bonus, he and Pepper had been able to launch their Inaugural September Foundation Grant for the students at MIT.
But at the same time that Tony had been celebrating that win, the rest of the Avengers had been dealing with a loss.
It was supposed to have been a simple mission, Tony hadn’t even come because they hadn’t been certain they weren’t chasing a dead end. They had gotten intel that Rumlow might be staging something in Nigeria and they had flown over to follow it up.
Out of all the remaining heads of Hydra, Rumlow had proven to be one of the hardest ones to pin down, so… Steve probably should have known that the brawl in the street had only been a distraction.
It had all been a trap. For what, he isn’t sure, but he can still see the smug look on Rumlow’s burned face as he had slipped away, a cruel laugh on his lips as the top of the skyscraper next to him had exploded into fire.
The destruction had been seemingly senseless. Rumlow hadn’t even used it as anything else but as a cover to get away with. He hadn't even tried to infiltrate the Institute for Infectious Disease, like they had first thought he would. Which is a good thing, of course, but the skyscraper is now in ruins, and the Avengers hadn’t been able to stop it, and now over a dozen people are dead.
The mood is subdued as they return to the compound, and Steve peels off without a word to his room. He can hear the others murmur a few words behind him as he leaves, but he is too drained to pay attention, and the smell of ash and burned flesh in his nose pushes him faster down the hall to his door. They had done their best to help with the clean up, but now his suit smells like soot and death and he needs to get out of it right now.
He gets to his bathroom and strips down, very carefully not thinking about how Hydra had used flamethrowers in the war, and how the smell of it is exactly the same. Instead he shoves his suit down the laundry shoot and turns to the shower with a single-minded focus, turning on the water and testing it once before getting in.
There are mild burns on his hands, and his gloves are melted to ruin, but his hands will heal soon enough, and Tony will have him a new pair of gloves by tomorrow, so he ignores both of those problems for now.
Of course, new gloves will mean that he will have to talk to Tony about the disaster of a mission. He is certain that by now the man has heard about the fiasco and is probably on his way back to the compound, but he knows that the upcoming conversation will not be fun.
Under the spray of the shower, he closes his eyes for a moment and breathes in, trying to loosen some of the tightness that has settled in his chest. Missions-gone-wrong are always hard for him, and no matter how many times he talks them over with Jason, it is still hard for him to use his coping mechanisms properly afterwards.
Which might be why he turns on the news after his shower. He is in clean, soft clothes now, that don’t have a hint of smoke in them, and he’d even gotten himself food and water to refuel with, but he still turns on the TV.
He can’t help it. The mission had gone wrong, and he needs to know the fallout. As team-leader, he will have to deal with it eventually, so he might as well know what the world is saying about their recent failure.
It isn’t good.
It’s too early to know the total death count yet, but people are hurt, and people are dead, and the rest of the people are angry.
“Authorities are now beginning to question what authority the so-called Avengers even had in going into Lagos,” a news anchor states sharply as a screen behind her scans over the chaotic scramble of a rescue attempt after the explosion. “The president of Nigeria has yet to make a statement but–”
Behind him, he hears the door to his room open, and he knows immediately who it is. Bucky remains silent as he comes in, his eyes skating over the scene before he comes over to sit next to him on the couch, his friend throwing one glance at the TV before leaning forward and reaching for the remote.
Steve says nothing as he clicks off the newsfeed, and Bucky lets the silence settle over them, the sounds of his even breathing filling the room. After a minute he shifts and looks him over, his gaze heavy. Steve stares ahead at the darkened TV screen and doesn’t shift his gaze.
“Bruce said you got burns on your hands,” Bucky says quietly, and Steve knows he’s eyeing the lack of bandages on his hands with suspicion.
“Already healed,” he says, his voice rasping slightly in his throat as he waves a hand at Bucky in proof, a few light pink spots on the palm and fingers the only lingering indication of his injury. Bucky seems satisfied by that, but he keeps looking at him, his one leg crossing over the other as he waits.
Steve swallows, and he knows that the serum will have already healed the smoke-inhalation, but his throat still feels dry. “Did the others already tell you anything?” he asks.
“A little,” is all Bucky says, and Steve knows that even if Bucky had known everything about the mission he would still be here, asking-without-asking because he knows Steve needs to talk about it.
He sighs and rubs a hand over his face, his gaze still fixed on the black TV screen as he speaks. “Rumlow was there like we thought,” he says, and Bucky doesn’t react beyond shifting a little in his seat. “I don’t know what he wanted. We thought that he was going to target the Institute for Infectious Diseases there, but Rhodey and Sam managed to interfere before they got inside, and then, they just ran.”
He waves a hand, mentally replaying the street chase in his mind’s eye as he speaks. “I don’t know what his plan was, but he must have planted the bomb beforehand,” he says. “I think the whole thing was a set up, but I don’t know why.”
He grinds his teeth in frustration and Bucky looks him over. “Did any of you guys get hurt?” he asks, and Steve shakes his head.
“Nothing besides minor burns and a bit of smoke,” he says, before he finally glances over to Bucky. “Can’t say the same for the people in the tower though.”
Bucky looks back at him, a solemn sort of gentleness in his eyes. “It's not your fault, Steve,” he says quietly.
Steve lets out a low sigh and leans his head back against the couch behind him, his shoulders slouching. “I know,” he gets out eventually. Misplaced guilt is something he’s been working on with Jason… but that doesn’t change the horribleness of what had happened, and how much he wishes it could have been different.
Next to him, Bucky breathes in and stands up. “Com’on,” he says, jerking his head towards the door. “We should go check on everyone else.”
Steve knows that the tactic is partially just to get him out of his room and doing something productive, but he accepts anyways and stands up, following Bucky as he leads him back out of his room.
“Have you heard anything about Peggy?” the man asks lowly, glancing at him briefly as they walk down the hall to the common room.
Steve sighs and shoves his hands in his pockets, his shoulder’s hunching slightly as he remembers more bad news. “They think it’s pneumonia,” he says. “Her son texted me again yesterday. He says it’s common for people with dementia to get pneumonia but…” It's also common for people with dementia to die from pneumonia.
He doesn’t say that though, and next to him, Bucky nods. “I wonder if we should visit her,” he says lowly, and Steve glances down.
Over the years, Peggy’s dementia had become more severe, and visits more painful. She doesn’t forget them exactly, but she forgets that they are alive, so a visit usually entails a distressing and emotional reunion with her. If it wasn’t so upsetting for Peggy, then he would visit her more often, but as it is, it’s almost less painful for her to think of them as dead, rather than to resurrect them every time they come over.
“We’ll have to see,” he says as he and Bucky step into the common room. Like the common room in the Tower had been, this one has a kitchen and dining area, along with a living room and entertainment setup spread out in an open floorplan.
The room is quiet, but not empty. Rhodey is sitting at the kitchen table, his phone to his ear, and Steve can see Bruce sitting with Sam over by the couches, their heads bent towards each other as they talk quietly.
Bucky follows him as he heads over to them, and he winces slightly as he sees the tired lines on Bruce’s face. The doctor hadn’t been part of the fight, but he had been part of the aftermath, trying to help the casualties of the attack while the Avengers had rushed to lessen the damage.
He glances up at Steve’s approach and he offers him something of a smile. “How’re your hands?” he asks, and Steve lifts them to show the healed skin.
“They’re fine,” he answers, before taking a seat on the other end of the couch, Bucky settling in a chair nearby. “Is Clint with Natasha?”
Bruce nods and Steve relaxes a little. They all need time to recover from the emotional toll of the mission, but he knows from experience that Clint and Natasha will be able to help each other. For now, he focuses mostly on Sam and Bruce, the pretense of small talk helping to keep the worst of the emotional backlash at bay, for now at least.
Behind them, Rhodey finishes his call and sets his phone down, looking over at them. “Tony’s coming over,” he says simply, and Steve rubs a hand over his face. Today they should have been congratulating Tony on his work with BARF and MIT, but now they have to deal with the disaster of their mission instead.
It’s obvious when Tony arrives that he has already heard about what had happened, and he sits dejectedly with them at the dinner table, staring into a cup of coffee in his hands. Natasha and Clint have joined them by now, and they fill him in on the details that his phone conversation with Rhodey hadn’t been able to cover.
He shakes his head and takes a sip from his cup, unhappy lines appearing by his mouth as he grimaces. “I should have been there,” he says tightly. “I didn’t want to postpone the MIT conference, but maybe if I’d been there then—”
“Rumlow would've blown the building anyways,” Steve cuts in immediately, not willing to let Tony try to spiral down into self-blame.
“Could’ve helped with search and rescue,” the man mumbles, not quite looking at him.
Steve knows that Tony is aware that what had happened isn’t his fault, but he finds he can’t fault the man too much for trying to take some of the blame anyways. What happened had been senseless, and he knows that it is human nature to try to find some kind of meaning or reason in the face of these kinds of disasters.
They don’t know Rumlow’s reasons, so instead they have to look to themselves, why didn’t they realise what was happening? Why weren’t they able to stop it?
Of course, that kind of thinking isn’t exactly healthy, and he can already hear Jason’s calm tones as he talks him through it, and untangles his self-deprecating thought patterns. You did your best, nobody can ask more than that from you.
But people are still dead.
oOo
As fate would have it, he has an appointment with Jason a few weeks after the initial incident. Their base is upstate now, so he has to drive a ways to get to the VA centre where Jason practices, but he doesn’t mind. He’s worked well with the man over the years, and he’d rather do the drive than find a new therapist.
His meetings with Jason are monthly now, rather than weekly like they had been when he’d first started seeing him, and usually that is enough, but this month had been difficult, what with his worry over Peggy, and now this.
He supposes he could have scheduled an emergency appointment with the man, but he’d been busy trying to deal with the aftermath of the mission, and he does have coping mechanisms that he’s learned to use, so he’d waited for his regularly scheduled appointment.
It is a bit of a relief to sit in Jason’s office though, and finally unload the stress of the last month. After three years, he already knows most of the things Jason is going to tell him, but it’s nice to be reminded sometimes.
“You know you can’t save everybody,” Jason says as he sits across from Steve. “It isn’t fair to yourself to place that burden on your shoulders.”
Steve sighs and slouches a little in his chair. “I know,” he says, his mouth twisting slightly in frustration. He glances out towards the window and shrugs. “I think… it’s hard this time because there was just nothing I could do at all. I didn’t know about the bomb until too late… and Rumlow just killed those people so he could get away.” His hand tightens into a fist on his knee. “They didn’t have to die, but he killed them anyways.”
The bomb feels pointless but purposeful, a typically cruel Hydra tactic to harm innocent bystanders to get at other people.
Jason talks a little while longer with him about dealing with his guilt and grief, as well as reminding him about coping mechanisms that he expects him to use, before moving on to what is likely to happen now – thanks to the mission – and what he is going to do about it.
“I don’t know everything that will happen yet,” Steve admits to him. “Of course we’ve made monetary compensations to the families of the victims but…” He shrugs and looks away. “I know that isn’t enough most of the time. I think for now, the incident is being investigated, and we’ll have to see what happens.”
In front of him, Jason shifts and crosses his leg over his knee, his chin resting on his hand as he thinks. “I don’t think this is going to go away any time soon,” he says, his eyes on Steve. “This is going to be stressful for a long time.”
His gaze flicks over Steve thoughtfully for a moment and he taps his foot once in the air. “Have you thought of taking a break at some point? Stepping back once this is settled to give yourself some time? I get the feeling that you’ll be too busy putting out this fire to really deal with any of it.”
Steve opens his mouth in defense and Jason sits up, holding his hand up. “I know it can’t be helped much,” he says. “You’re going to have to face whatever comes from this, and world leaders are not going to wait until you’re ready, but what I’m saying is, after this is all finally over, I think you should think of taking some time for yourself.”
Steve presses his lips together and shifts his eyes over to stare at the metal cuffs adorning the ends of Jason’s braids. “I don’t know…” he says slowly, thinking over Jason’s suggestion. “I guess it will all depend on what becomes of this but…” He picks slightly at the fabric of his jeans and glances back up at Jason. “Rumlow and Hydra will still be out there after all of this,” he says. “I can’t just leave them.”
In front of him, Jason shakes his head. “It’s not your responsibility to take out Hydra, Steve,” he says. Steve opens his mouth to protest but Jason holds up his hand again. “It's not,” he says firmly, his eyes on Steve. “It’s a commendable thing you’re doing,” he continues. “But nothing is obligating you to do it. Just because you fought Hydra before, doesn’t mean that you have to fight them forever.”
Steve scowls and looks down at his lap. What Jason says might technically be correct, but it still feels wrong. “Someone has to do it,” he argues, looking back up. “Hydra has done horrible things, they can’t just be left alone.”
Jason nods. “True,” he says carefully. “But you’re not doing this alone, Steve. You’re not ‘America’s only hope’ anymore. If you don’t do it, there are other people who will try. And,” he offers him a small smile. “I’m not asking you to stop forever. Just think about taking a break.” He shifts. “Is fighting really what you want to do forever?”
Steve swallows and looks back down, his hands twisting around in his lap. He can remember once, back when Bucky had been figuring out whether he wanted to join the Avengers, he had asked him something similar. Do you want to stay with the Avengers forever?
He wants to stay with them, because they are basically his family now… but does he want to fight with them forever?
“I don’t know,” he admits quietly. “I’ve been fighting for a long time.” He’s not exactly sure if he knows how to do anything else right now.
Back when he had first woken up from the ice, he had been lost. Nearly everyone he had known was dead, and he had had no direction to go in, none of his plans for after the war were viable anymore. SHIELD had been more than willing to take him under their wing, but he had learned very quickly that there had been more malicious intent in that than he was supposed to know about.
He had only been out of the ice for maybe two weeks before he’d learned that Hydra was still alive. The thing he’d fought and died to stop had survived the war and had infested the very institution he’d been working for… and then he had had to pretend to work for Hydra for months before he could finally try to take them down again.
He… never really had gotten a chance to stop fighting Hydra, had he? And now that he thinks about it, he has no idea whether Hydra will ever truly go down completely. Hydra is born out of hatred, ignorance and racism. Until those are gone from the Earth, Hydra will probably always have new members.
He can’t fight the whole of human prejudice.
He can try. He can stop some of the worst of Hydra… but their ideas, and their fanaticism will always linger. Does he want to fight forever?
But if he stops…
“I don’t know if I can stop,” he says finally, his eyes glancing up at Jason briefly. “I know it’s not technically my job to stop Hydra, but if I stop trying, they’ll keep going, and I’ll feel like it’s my fault if they succeed at all.”
Jason’s gaze is soft when he looks at him, and Steve glances away. He’d been doing his best not to feel guilty over individual missions, but if he stops doing missions at all, then he will definitely feel guilty.
“It's not your fault people are horrible, Steve,” Jason tells him softly.
Steve huffs, his fingers tightening in his lap. “But it is my fault if I could have stopped them, but didn’t,” he challenges. “What was the point of the serum otherwise?”
Jason remains calm at his sharp words and clasps his hands in his lap, his foot tapping again. “The serum was given to you to fight a war seventy years ago,” he says simply, his eyes meeting Steve’s. “That war is over now, Steve. It’s your choice what the serum is for now.”
Steve swallows, his eyes locked on to Jason’s, the man continuing without letting up. “You've done good work,” he says. “But you don’t have an obligation to do anything you don’t want to do. You are allowed to rest, soldier.”
Steve chokes and darts his eyes down to his lap, his throat suddenly swollen tight as his gaze goes blurry. “I’m not— very good at that,” he admits with a shaky smile, blinking his eyes back into focus as he glances up at Jason.
“I know,” he says gently. “And like I said, you don’t have to stop forever, Steve. But it’s your choice. You can take a break, you can choose your battles. Hunting Hydra isn’t just your responsibility.”
Steve nods and breathes in slowly, rolling his shoulders as he settles himself. “I’ll think about it,” he says, and Jason gives him a simple nod, knowing that that is all he can give right now.
“You won’t have to do it alone,” he says finally, offering him a bright smile. “That’s what you’ve got me for.”
oOo
He has a lot to think about on his drive back to the compound. He doesn’t know how to feel about Jason’s suggestion to take a break. He understands the man’s argument that he can, if he wants to, but he doesn’t know what to do with that.
He still can’t help feeling like if he stops fighting, then he will be responsible for the people that he could have saved, but didn’t. How can he justify stepping back when Rumlow is out there blowing up buildings, and Hydra is sinking in to manipulate governments and send the world into chaos?
But Hydra might never be defeated. He might never get a chance to stop.
Does he want to fight forever?
When he arrives back at the compound, he seeks Bucky out, figuring that his friend would be the most likely to have some insight for this particular problem, since Bucky himself had decided not to join him on his hunt for Hydra. He finds Bucky in the garage, sitting cross-legged on the ground next to an Avengers vehicle with its hood up, a textbook open on his lap.
He smiles at the sight. Bucky is now almost finished his second and final year in the Automotive Technician program at Lincoln Tech. It is a bit of a drive for him to get to class every day, but he knows that Bucky enjoys the course, and he claims that his metal arm is actually an asset for him during the hands-on portion.
He looks up and smiles as Steve comes in. “Did you just get back?” he asks as Steve moves to lean back against a car next to the one Bucky is working on.
He nods. “Yeah,” he says simply. Bucky doesn’t ask about the specifics of the session, just like Steve doesn’t ask him much about what he talks about in his own sessions with Carmen. He knows Bucky will talk to him if he needs to, and Bucky knows that exact same thing is true for him.
Even if it isn’t exactly fun.
Steve watches as Bucky works on the car for a while, before finally bringing up what is on his mind. “Does it bother you, not going on missions?” he asks, his hands pressing down on the car under him. “Do you feel sometimes like you should go on them, even if you might not want to?”
Bucky glances at him for a moment before reaching for a rag to wipe the wrench he had been working with. “Not too much anymore,” he says after a moment. “Sometimes I used to wonder if I really deserved to just be fixin’ cars and visiting my sister when I could be fighting Hydra…” He shrugs and glances back up at Steve. “Talked a lot about that with Carmen. She says I don’t have to feel guilty because I don’t owe anything to anyone. I might be able to fight Hydra, but that doesn’t mean I have to.”
Steve swallows as he thinks over Bucky’s words. It seems as though Carmen has a similar stance as Jason, which probably shouldn’t be a surprise.
“Besides,” Bucky continues, his voice growing slightly muffled as he looks back inside the hood of the car. “There’s more than one way to fight Hydra. For me, just living a life at all is a big middle finger to them.”
Steve smiles at that and he can’t help agreeing. “Yeah, that makes sense,” he says quietly, looking down as he thinks. He can appreciate what Bucky is saying, but the idea of putting a hold on his fight still feels a little bit like giving up to him, like admitting that Hydra has won, that he can’t fight them anymore.
But… as much as he hates to admit it, their old adage about ‘cut off one head and two more shall take its place’ isn’t exactly wrong. No matter how hard he fights, there will always be people who want Hydra, or believe in their ideology. Fighting that is a lot harder than hunting down rogue operatives and hidden bunkers.
If he were to take a step back from doing that – even for just a little bit… well, Jason is right. There are other people, besides the Avengers even, who are also trying to fight Hydra and its ideals. It won’t be like there will be no one left to fight if he takes a break.
Of course, there is the symbol of Captain America to think about, and what it will look like if the American hero pulls out of the fight… but he knows already what Jason would say to that. Captain America isn’t actually a real person. Steve Rogers is though, and he’s allowed to be human sometimes.
Watching Bucky work on his car, Steve wonders if he’s allowed to be human enough to find something else to do besides fight. He’s not even certain what that would be exactly. He hasn’t had to think of that in so long – not since before the war really – and he has to admit that probably some of his reluctance in giving up fighting for a while is the fear of what that would look like.
Setting down his shield for a while would mean he would have to figure out who he is without it, and… he isn’t sure anymore.
Which might be why Jason brought up the idea, he thinks wryly, shaking his head a little. Still, regardless of the reason, he has other things to worry about right now, because he can’t take a break until their mission in Lagos has been dealt with.
oOo
Jason is right about the Lagos mission not going away anytime soon, and the rest of his life isn’t on hold either. Peggy’s son informs him that her condition is worsening, but Steve has yet to find a time to visit her, thanks to everything else, and a week after his appointment with Jason – and almost a month after the initial incident – he sits in front of the TV in the common room, his eyes on the screen as their failed mission gets covered yet again.
“Eleven Wakandans were among those killed during the confrontation between the Avengers and a group of mercenaries in Lagos, Nigeria, last month,” the news anchor reports. “The traditionally reclusive Wakandans were on an outreach mission in Lagos when the attack occurred.”
The screen changes from scenes of the attack, to the image of the Wakandan king, T’Chaka. “Our people’s blood is spilled on foreign soil,” he says. “Not only because of the actions of criminals, but by the indifference of those pledged to stop them.” Bitter guilt pools in Steve’s stomach and he swallows, pressing his lips together as he listens. “Victory at the expense of the innocent,” the king continues. “Is no victory at all.”
The clip ends and the news anchors go on to discuss the fact that the Avengers had been working outside of international law, and they move on to question their legal authority to go on missions at all. Steve rubs his hand over his face and turns off the TV with a sigh.
He understands the complex legal minefield the Avengers tread. Pepper and her legal team are able to smooth some of it for them, but hunting Hydra is complicated by nationalities and borders and collateral damage. He is aware enough of his countries history of occupation to know that some countries very much do not want a team of US based operatives coming into their territory.
And of course, Hydra takes advantage of that.
Steve sighs again, but gets cut off as JARVIS speaks up. “Sir wishes you to know that he will be arriving shortly,” he says. “I suggest you move into the meeting room. He is accompanied by a guest.”
Steve blinks and looks up at the ceiling. “Do we know who it is?” he asks.
“The Secretary of State, Captain.”
oOo
Secretary of State, Thaddeus Ross isn’t exactly popular with the Avengers. It probably has something to do with the fact that he had relentlessly hunted one of their members for several years.
As it is, Ross’ mouth twitches downwards slightly as he catches sight of Bruce coming into the meeting room, but otherwise he doesn’t say anything, his gaze lingering slightly on Bucky before he situates himself at the front of the room.
“Well,” he says, in a sort of breathy brisk tone that Steve dislikes instantly. Ross darts his eyes around the room once as his assistant sets up his computer presentation and Steve flicks his eyes down to a large bag on the floor, its contents yet to be revealed.
He glances up to Tony next, the man sitting across from him, and he can’t help wincing a little as he catches sight of the bags under his eyes. This last month hasn’t been easy for any of them, and he’s certain that Ross’ presentation will only add to that.
Tony twitches his mouth slightly at him, and they both turn to look to the front of the room as Ross’ assistant steps back and the man himself looks them over, his eyes crinkling in a practiced smile that sets Steve’s teeth on edge.
“Well,” he says again. “Let’s get started, shall we?”