Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Steve catches Tony as he rushes back to his lab, a sleek, gunmetal case in his hand. "Tony."

"Tony," he calls again.

Tony barely acknowledges Steve. "I'm busy, Rogers."

"What's in the case, Tony?" Steve follows right on Tony's heels, watching as Tony storms through the door of his lab. Steve flings the door open to reveal a frantic Tony rummaging through his drawers. "Don't do this, Tony. Don't do whatever it is you're about to do. This isn't what she would want."

Tony whips around to his former friend. "You don't get to tell me what she would want - I'm her father. I need to protect her. I can - I can protect her from this."

Steve looks on with remorse, offering only a slight shake of his head. "It's her time, Tony. She's tired. She wants to rest."

"Don't give me that," Tony snaps, chucking the wrench in his hand. "I can fix this!"

"It's her time, Tony. And I hate that as much as you do, but there's some things you can't fix."

Tony Stark worked his entire life keeping you from the public eye - practically an impossible feat as a Stark, the sole heir to the Stark empire and fortune.

He worked tirelessly to protect you for the world. To protect you from his own mistakes. To make sure you'd never pay for his sins.

And while he was off fighting those highly publicized battles with the Avengers, you fought your own quiet, personal batter. Leukemia. First as a child and later many years spent in remission. And for the first time in his life, Tony Stark had to grapple with something he couldn't protect you from. He swallowed the most bitter pill, day in and out, waiting helplessly with bated breath. 

It was in the middle of his feud with Steve that Tony got the call. He wasn't sure that he'd ever forgive himself for the events of that day. 

The first missed call came from Pepper, right in the middle of a very intense argument with Steve and Bucky in Siberia. He declined the call and told FRIDAY to let Pepper know he was busy. 

The second call was from Pepper again. FRIDAY said it was urgent. To be fair, it didn't really seem like there was anything more important than finding out Steve lied about his parent's death. 

The third and fourth time, both from Pepper and Happy, he was too busy searching for vengeance to think straight. 

Five calls later, he was on the ground, nursing both a wounded pride and actual wounds. That final call, Pepper told FRIDAY not just to relay the urgency, but to tell Tony it was about you. 

He couldn't remember anything except a faint ringing in his ears and dread sitting in the pit of his stomach. It was a whirlwind until he sat in your hospital room, at your bedside. 

You didn't remember it like that. You remembered him moving Heaven and Earth to make it back to you. You would never forget how he dropped everything and rushed to your side. There was nothing that mattered more than your father holding your hand as the doctors handed you your bleak prognosis, handed you your death sentence. 

Anger and despair flashed in his eyes when the doctor spoke. He pulled you out of the hospital that same day, putting you under his own care. He declared that same day, you would live. He would fix this. 

He put all his focus into fixing you. There was nothing else that held the attention of Tony Stark. Nothing seemed quite as important as keeping you alive. Between him, Bruce, and Dr. Cho, there was someone constantly working on keeping you alive. 

No one could deny that it was looking bad. The doctors said months, and the months had come and gone. 

Tony could barely look at you without bawling. Not in front of you, of course. He'd rush out of the room, storm over to his lab. Sometimes, he'd throw things. Other times, he would fall into his chair and shed silent tears. 

While no one dared utter the words to you, you knew it had gone from bleak to practically hopeless. 

You knew you were really on your last days when you saw Bruce watching you, holding your hand while you slept. 

To you, Bruce was something of a mentor, a second father even. Though you inherited all of the infamous Stark genius, you'd stopped attending school during your first battle with cancer. Tony often joked that there were no better teachers than two of the greatest scientists in the world. During that first fight, Bruce was the one who would wheel you into the lab so you could learn and watch as he worked. 

There was not a single doubt in your mind that you were hanging on by a thread when you saw Bruce's glassy eyes watching you drift in and out of consciousness. 

"Please don't cry, Bruce," you whisper, speaking through your oxygen mask. 

"I'm not crying," he assures you, wiping the corner of his eyes. "Just allergies."

"I've had a good life," you meekly offer, lifting up your oxygen mask. "Not everyone gets Bruce Banner and Tony Stark to homeschool them."

"It - it was an honor." He stops speaking for a moment as his voice breaks on his last word. "I just - I want you to know that you've always been like a daughter to me."

You know how hard it is for Bruce to say that, that the vulnerability isn't something that he would normally offer unless he felt like he had to. "Bruce, are you telling me that I have two dads?"

He huffs out a chuckle, shaking his head at you, "That infallible sense of humor. It's admirable."

"Bruce?" His gaze meets yours. "Don't let my dad tear himself apart - after, I mean. It's not anyone's fault. Yours or his. Can you - just make sure he knows that."

"Don't talk like that. We can still-"

"Bruce." You stop him from continuing the same unfounded hope they held onto for all these months. You shake your head, unshed tears shining in your eyes as you picture Tony after the inevitable happens. "It's okay. We both know what's gonna happen and it's - it's okay. I'll be okay. Just take care of him, okay?"

The knot in Bruce's throat is so tight he just shakily exhales and nods. 

The final sign that things aren't going well: Steve Rogers is allowed to step foot back on the Avengers Compound. Though allowed might be too generous of a word. You're not sure if it's the medication, your fluctuating state of consciousness, or simply everyone's unwillingness to tell you anything, but he's back. 

And while no one would say it, you all know he's come to say goodbye.

Steve can barely bring himself to say a word to you. 

The last time he saw you, you were fine, you were perfectly healthy. He didn't even know you were sick again until he heard it from the news, which only offered vague details mostly revolving around Tony pulling out of events and almost entirely retreating from the public eye. 

He knew the secrecy and vague details were for a reason - mostly because of Tony's overprotectiveness. He'd only heard the story from Pepper, but according to her, Tony saw one article implying that he deserved what happened to you, that somehow you were paying for his karmic debts. One nasty story was all it took. The very next day, he bought the newspaper and shut them down, effectively sending a message to all media outlets that you were completely and totally off limits. 

The only thing that Steve heard was that your health was once again failing and Tony was taking personal time in the midst of the Accords drama to support you. 

And he wasn't here for you. And he’s not quite sure how he’ll ever forgive himself for that.

Against all advice and reason, he risks it all to be there for you - one last time. 

He mostly sits with you, constantly asking if you need anything or if there's anything he can do for you. With most of your time spent asleep, Steve finds himself whispering apologies over and over while he strokes your hair and holds your hand. 

And Peter, the newest member of the team, well, he dials back on his Spiderman antics and heroics. At school, at home, anywhere he can't be by your side, he's anxious, dread swimming in his veins, worried that any minute he's going to get that call. That dreaded call. He's thought about it before. He's not sure who the call will come from, his Aunt May, Tony, Happy even. He's not quite sure. He's just always worried. So worried that every time his phone rings, he flinches in fear. 

After school, he's only suited up for an hour or two at most before he rushes down to the Compound. No one believed him when he first said he met Tony Stark's daughter through his internship, let alone when you started dating. 

Every day, he took it upon himself to keep you entertained. Sometimes, he'd just talk, about anything, about everything, his friends, his aunt, his school, his hero antics. You liked listening to his seemingly endless stories. He did everything and anything he could to keep you smiling. 

And when it looks like it's going to be your last night on the Earth, he arrives to the Compound like he would any other day, prepared to take your mind off the heaviness of it all.

He bursts down the hallway, barely pulling off his Spiderman suit as he barrels toward your open door, "You will never guess what I found." He falters when he sees Tony standing in the doorway, blocking you from his sight. "Mr. Stark?"

"Hey, kid."

Panic bubbles up inside him. Maybe it wouldn't be a call. Maybe it would be exactly like this. "Is everything - is she-?

"She's fine," Tony quickly assures. It's not really what he means. You weren't fine. Not in the slightest. "She's been in and out all day."

"What happened?"

"An infection. She's had a fever all day."

Peter's voice breaks as he descends into despair. "But she'll - she's gonna be okay, right?"

Tony rests a hand on Peter's shoulder, giving him a comforting squeeze, "She's just not strong enough to fight it off."

Peter looks up at him with desperate hope shining in his pleading eyes. "But you're gonna try, right? You're gonna try to fight it off?"

The brokenness of Peter's voice steels Tony's resolve. Not just for him. For Peter. For Bruce. For Pepper. For Steve. They couldn't lose you. "Yeah, kid, I'm going to try."

Peter stays by your side, holding your hand until the bitter end. 

Your fever is so high that you find it hard to keep your eyes open. Despite all best efforts, no one is able to break it and it shows no signs of wavering. 

And that's when Steve finds out Tony's plan. Or more accurately, when the guilt eating Bruce alive forces him to tell Steve the truth. When all hope is lost, Steve sees just how desperate Tony is to save you. 

After all, that's what people mean when they say desperate times call for desperate measures. 

But not even Steve could have predicted just how far Tony would be willing to go. 

"What?" Steve demands.

"He's been working on it, Steve. I didn't - no one thought he'd actually do it."

"And what exactly is it?"

"He got the idea when you came back," Bruce explains. "He remembered your files, how sick you were, how you were better afterwards. He took the Teseract, Steve, he was talking about using that as his radiation source. I think he's really going to do this."

"Do what?" Steve grits out. 

"He's going to dose her with the serum. An untested super solider serum. He thought it would buy him time - even - even if it didn't fix her, it would give him time. I told him there were boundaries even science shouldn't cross, but he won't listen. Not to me. Not to Pepper. But you have to try, I promised the kid I wouldn't let him fall apart."

"Clearly he's already fallen apart if he's actually considering doing this."

"I want to save her as much as he does, but this isn't how she would want to be saved. I think we both know that."

"Where is he?"

"He went to find Pepper. Then he was going to her room."

Tony clenches his jaw and walks into your room. You're asleep and Peter's asleep with his head resting on your lap. He'd be the first to admit that he didn't like this at first, but he has to give credit to Peter for sticking with you. You genuinely seemed happier with him. Your eyes slowly wake to see your father on the verge of tears. You reach out, giving his hand a weak squeeze. "It's okay, Dad. I've had a good life."

One hand hold your burning hand, the other rubs his clenched jaw. He nods as you drift back out of consciousness. The moment you do, he bristles out of the room. He's content to know he's not leaving you alone. 

Steve catches Tony as he rushes back to his lab, a sleek, gunmetal case in his hand. "Tony."

"Tony," he calls again.

Tony barely acknowledges Steve. "I'm busy, Rogers."

"What's in the case, Tony?" Steve follows right on Tony's heels, watching as Tony storms through the door of his lab. Steve flings the door open to reveal a frantic Tony rummaging through his drawers. "Don't do this, Tony. Don't do whatever it is you're about to do. This isn't what she would want."

Tony whips around to his former friend. "You don't get to tell me what she would want - I'm her father. I need to protect her. I can - I can protect her from this."

Steve looks on with remorse, offering only a slight shake of his head. "It's her time, Tony. She's tired. She wants to rest."

"Don't give me that," Tony snaps, chucking the wrench in his hand. "I can fix this!"

"It's her time, Tony. And I hate that as much as you do, but there's some things you can't fix."

"She calls you Uncle Steve," Tony quietly reminds him, standing before Steve with a white knuckle grip on the case and a vial of that familiar blue serum in his hand. “She was absolutely devastated when you all left.”

"Don't do that."

"Don't do what?” Tony rhetorically asks. “Remind you that you've known my daughter since she was 5. Remind you that to her, you were family . And now you're okay with letting her die?"

"I'm not okay with it," Steve barks. "I'm not okay with it. I love that kid, so stop trying to guilt me into thinking that any of this is okay because it's not. You're playing with things that shouldn't be played with, Tony. There's no coming back from this."

"A little hypocritical coming from a 100 year old man, don't you think?" Steve is about to respond, but Tony cuts him off again, speaking with tears burning in his eyes. "In fact, everyone here is living on borrowed time, why can't she? Why does she have to be the one to go? We've all escaped death, plenty of times. Why does she have to die at 17 years old?"

Steve softly exhales, "Tony..."

"She's 17, Rogers. 17 years! That's all she's had. 17 years," he repeats, his voice breaking. "She hasn't even had a chance to live yet. She hasn't - she hasn't done anything wrong. She'll never turn 18. She'll never get to walk down the aisle. She'll never have a family. She'll never get to live her own life. You and me? We've both got blood on our hands. We've made mistakes. We can say we've lived. She can't. She didn't even get a chance and you don't want me to even try to save her?"

"This isn't how you save someone."

"She's just a kid, Steve," Tony whispers, clenching the vial in his hand. "I have to, Cap. Sorry."

When Tony reenters your room, Peter's still gently snoring on your lap and you're sleeping. He can tell it's not a restful sleep, you're still sweating profusely, your hair is clinging to your forehead and your head lolls back and forth. Your breathing sounds so labored that it's downright painful. With another wave of determination, he sets everything up and pushes some more pain medication.

“Mr. Stark, is everything okay?” Peter drowsily asks, lifting his head slightly.

“Yeah, she’ll be fine," Tony says, avoiding actually answering Peter's question. "Why don’t you take a nap in the guest room next door? I’ll stay with her.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Alright,” Peter nods, reluctantly leaving the room. 

Tony sighs again, telling himself that he's giving you more time, more life. All he needed was more time. All you need was more life. 

Steve, Bruce, even Pepper, they're all wrong. This is the right thing to do. He's sure of it. 

He glances back at the locked door, keeping everyone and anyone out, glances at the blue vial in his hand, and then at you. He can't let this happen to you, so he pushes the syringe. 

When you open your eyes hours later, you're thrown for a loop. You're not quite sure how you're still here. You were sure that you were a goner. It certainly doesn't feel that way anymore. Your eyes flicker to Tony as he stands watching your every movement. "Dad?"

He refuses to meet your eye, and you immediately know something is wrong. Even more so when he doesn't utter a word, because if there's anything you've learned in your life, it's that your father always has something to say. "Dad?"

"I'm sorry." He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. "I couldn't - I couldn't let you die."

"Dad? What did you do?"

He embraces you, whispering, "I'm sorry."

Chapter Text

"Dad?"

"I'm sorry." He reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. "I couldn't - I couldn't let you die."

"Dad? What did you do?"

He embraces you, whispering, "I'm sorry."

He wakes in a cold sweat from the dream. Except, it's not a dream. It's the reality he singlehandedly created. He barely registers his phone blaring on his nightstand until Pepper also jolts upright from he phone's ringer. 

"What? What's wrong?" she gasps. 

"Relax." He pats her hand, jutting his chin toward her nightstand. "It's your phone."

She snatches up her phone, answering on the third ring. 

"Who is it?" he grumbles, still half asleep. "And do they know that it's 4 in the morning?"

She waves him off, abruptly standing out of her bed. "It's Agent Ross."

"It better be important enough for him to wake us up."

"Shh..." Pepper hisses, trying to keep up with Agent Ross' rambling. "What's out of your hands? No, you can't be serious." 

Tony's ears perk up at the sound of Pepper's short, clipped answers and the look of shock painting her face. "What? What's going on?"

Pepper reaches for Tony, ushering him up and out of bed, "Tony, go get-"

Her words are cut off by your blood curdling scream

There are no other thoughts in his head as he takes off, running faster than he's ever gone before. He can hear your screams for him. Once. Twice. There's a fear in your voice that he's never heard. Not even as you were handed a death sentence. Not even when he told you he'd dosed you with an untested super solider serum days ago. 

When he bursts into your room, he immediately notices two things. 

First, he's not the only person frantically checking on you. Steve and Bruce skid into your makeshift hospital room right behind Tony, the same disheveled yet guarded looks on their faces. 

And second, and most pertinently, a SWORD agent placing you in the, reinforced handcuffs. 

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Tony demands, practically lunging at the man until he hears a voice he'd only hoped to never hear again. 

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Dad?" you call out to him, trembling as the agent pulls on your wrists again. 

"It's okay, sweetie. It's alright, I'm going to take care of this," Tony tries to console you from afar. He turns on his heels, glaring at the person responsible for this, "General Ross."

General Ross hands him a warrant. "We have authorization to detain your daughter. She's coming with us."

Tony crumples the paper in his hand, "Like hell you do."

"On what grounds?" Bruce pipes in. 

General Ross' eyes flicker to Bruce, then back to Tony, "We received word that you've been experimenting on your daughter. It's been decided by the council that you and Dr. Banner are no longer fit to monitor such a volatile and dangerous experiment."

"She's not an experiment. She's a child," Bruce finally pipes in.

"A child who is a U.S. citizen - last time, I checked she has rights," Tony remarks, his eyes more on you than anyone else. You're shaking, because you're cold or afraid he's not sure. Your eyes are glassy though you've yet to shed a single tear. And the thing that enrages him the most, there's blood dripping down both your arms, probably where the idiot agent ripped out your IV.

"Those rights were null and void the second you injected her with an untested, highly experimental super soldier serum, Tony. I will not tell you again. You signed the Accords. You agreed to this, remember?"

"I did not agree to this. And even if I did, you don't have control over Stark intellectual property or its assets."

"That may be, but you've left us no choice. The child is a threat to everyone around her. She's a threat to national security, one that must be contained.”

"And just how long do you plan on holding her?" Bruce interrupts before Tony says anything to further escalate the situation.

"Indefinitely."

"Yeah," Tony scoffs. "Over my dead body will you be taking her."

"I will. Or every person in this compound will be considered an enemy of the State. And don't think I won't have you arrested for aiding and abetting a fugitive," Ross says, looking directly at Steve.

"Enemy of the State?" you exhale, flinching at the severity of the situation and just how quickly it all continues to escalate. You're not even really sure what happens, but one second your arms are unnaturally pulled behind your back and the next they're in front of you, cuffs pulled clean off.

"This is what I'm talking about." General Ross shakes his head, watching you carefully. "You've gone too far, Tony. She needs to be contained and monitored."

"She is being monitored. Here."

"That's not good enough."

Pepper's the next one speaking, having slipped into the room during all of the commotion. "General Ross, can't we have a little time? It's the middle of the night."

"Absolutely not. As far as I'm concerned you are all flight risks with a motive and unlimited resources to escape. The answer is no."

"Just an hour? She's bleeding," Pepper points out the places on your arm where the IV's were roughly pulled out. "I'll even give you the blueprints of the compound and you can station someone at all of the exits. No one will be able to get out without you knowing. Please?"

Ross battles with himself for a moment, wondering just how far he's willing to push all three men. "You have an hour."

"Thank you."

General Ross nods at his agents, ushering them out of the room and out of the building. He utters one last warning as he walks out of the room. "We'll know if you try to escape."

Not a person in the room has a response to that. Instead, Pepper reaches for Tony, embracing him tightly. As discreetly as possible, she whispers in his ear, "You've got an hour."

The entirety of your last hour out in the world is spent with Pepper. She ushers you out of your medical room, back to your old bedroom. She sits you on the edge of your bed and immediately begins fawning over you, brushing your hair from the tangled bed head, braiding it neatly. She tends to the irritated IV site, cleaning it and bandaging it.

"Pepper?" you whisper, stopping her whirlwind movements in their tracks. She turns to you, looking as frantic as you felt. You look up to her, the only mother figure you'd ever known and softly utter, "What's gonna happen to me?"

"I don't know, sweetie." She strokes your face. "But you're going to be okay. Your dad will make sure of that."

The hour goes by like seconds.

Then you're back in handcuffs, being walked outside into the pitch black night. All you can hear is the sound of the engine rumbling and the slight crunch of the gravel beneath your feet.

You're at least thankful that you got to change out of your pajamas and into something a little more appropriate for being hauled off to whatever prison they deem fit for you.

When you finally get to the transport, the man takes no time in placing chains around your waist and to your ankles, effectively restricting all of your movement.

"Are the cuffs necessary?" Tony fumes, watching helplessly as they take you away. "She's voluntarily going with you."

"It's just protocol, Mr. Stark."

There's not a single cohesive sentence you can string together, let alone say, as you're dragged into the van. They take the combined chains and bolt you to the floor.

You watch the despair on your father's face as the agent climbs in behind you and shuts the door.

Even though it's dark, you're still very acutely aware of the gun being pointed at your face. You try to stay completely still, worried that the slightest mishap will be misconstrued as an act of aggression. You focus on the sounds of the person breathing in front of you, that's all you can hear except the rumble of the engine.

You breathe slowly, careful not to move your arms or hands. You think back to when you'd just woken up from your near death experience. You reached for the railing of the bed to ground yourself and broke the thing clean off. It terrified you to your core, thinking about the things you could do. Even on accident.

It simultaneously feels like 5 minutes and 5 hours have passed when the rumble of the engine suddenly cuts, leaving you all in a deafening silence. You hold your breath and try not to panic even as you hear muted thuds and isolated yelps coming from outside.

The very agent sitting in front of you looks at you like you're going to be the one to tell them to go look. They take a deep breath and for the first time all night, there's not a single gun on you.

The man creaks the door open ever so slowly. He takes a moment to crane his neck out into the open, when suddenly another yelp leaves his mouth as he's jerked forward into the night.

"Kid, are you okay in there?" you hear a familiar voice ask.

"Steve?"

Both doors are open in the moonlight, you can see the vague outline of Steve Rogers' face. You sigh in relief, "It's you."

"Come on, we don't have a lot of time," he urges, reaching out to grab your hand.

As if you're testing the waters, you experimentally take one hand and try to break the chain on your left hand. It falls away with ease, and you're not sure whether you're terrified or in awe of yourself. It takes you less than a minute to break free of your constraints.

"Where exactly are we going?" you ask, taking Steve's hand and jumping out of the van.

He points into the direction of the heavily wooded area surrounding the lonely road. "We're going right through there."

"There?"

"Just follow me. I won't let anything happen to you," he promises

"Okay," you nod, following Steve's brisk walk into the woods.

The two of you trek through the darkness for quite some time and never once is there a clear path or road that you're following. Steve's confidence and stride never once waver and you remind yourself over and over that you trust Steve. You trust him to keep his word and keep you safe.

"Just up ahead."

You look up and there's a large clearing illuminated by two headlights not far from you. As you get closer, you can make out one shadowy figure. You squint your eyes and crane your neck until you see him.

"Dad," you call much louder than you should in the dead of the night.

You bolt the second you're sure it's him, and the second you're in reach you throw yourself into his open arms. Tony takes a moment to relish in this reunion - to breathe in a sigh of relief that you're okay. That you got away and you're safe in his arms.

Unfortunately, he knows that that moment can't last, and he pulls away.

You vehemently shake your head, not liking the look on his face. "Dad, what's going on?"

"I need you to listen to me, we don't have a lot of time," Tony pleads, grabbing your face with his hands and forcing you to look at him. "Steve will explain everything later, but right now you just need to listen."

You continue shaking your head, but he maintains his grip on you. "Dad, please, just tell me. What's happening?"

"What's happening is you're going to go with Steve, okay? You and Steve are going to go somewhere away from here, somewhere where no one can find you. You stay with Steve no matter what, you hear me? He's going to take care of you. He'll protect you... And I'm not going to see you for a while."

You tremble, "No."

"Listen, you're going to go. Get away from here. And I'm going to fix this. And once I've fixed it, you can come back home. Okay?"

"I don't want to go," you sob.

"I know, I know, I don't want you to go either, but right now you need to be safe, okay?"

"What about you? What if they figure out you're involved with all of this?"

"I will be fine. I'll be completely fine as long as you stay safe. Don't you worry about me for a single minute, because I will be fine. And once I fix this, you can come home. I promise." Tony removes his hands from your face and moves you into Steve's arms. "Protect her?"

"With my life," Steve promises.

Tony nods, seeing the solemnity on Steve's face. He hands you a dark oversized hoodie. "Put this on."

You slip it on and then he's handing you a large black backpack. "Everything you two will need is in here. Money, passports, documents. It's all there."

You see the conflicted look on your father's face as he closes his eyes and exhales deeply. "You don't have a lot of time before they figure out that you're gone. I love you, kid. Don't forget that."

"I love you too, Dad."

And then you're walking away from everything you've ever known.

This time the trek isn't nearly as long or rugged. In fact, before you can process everything that's happened you're back on well-lit pavement. "There's a bus stop just up ahead."

"Where are we going?" you ask.

"As far away from here as possible, as quickly as possible, find a place to lay low while this whole thing blows over."

"Any ideas?"

"I've got a place in mind."

"Are you going to elaborate or are you going for that cryptic, dramatic vibe?" you joke.

He chuckles, slightly shaking his hung head. "I've got a friend that can help."

Chapter Text

Bucky can't help but be really glad Steve refused to tell him anything about why he was going back to see Tony Stark and his kid. Not that he really wanted to hear about anything about the Stark family anyway. 

He didn't have to watch the news for more than a minute to realize the breaking news was everywhere. Tony Stark's daughter, a wanted fugitive, considered armed and dangerous, dosed with an untested serum of some kind, mysteriously disappeared from SWORD custody last night. 

And no matter how hard he tries not to, Bucky can't help but judge Tony for the actions that brought all this about. All he can think, who would willing test some serum on their own child? No one except Tony Stark. And now he's implicated everyone around them. Including Steve. Who shouldn't have gone back in the first place. 

And now, all Bucky can do is hope that Steve made it out of there without getting caught up in another one of Tony Stark's messes. 

An urgent knock cuts through his watching session. He grumbles under his breath and flicks off the TV, listening for any signs of an unfriendly visitor. He quietly walks to the door, careful not to make a single sound. 

"Buck, it's me." Steve taps at the door in the intricate knocking patter only they knew. 

"Thank God, Steve." Bucky sighs in relief as he reaches the door. He swings the door open. "Honestly, I was worried you got mixed up with all that Stark nonsense. I mean, seriously, what is wrong with him? Testing a serum-"

"Bucky," Steve stops him, stepping a foot over the threshold. Bucky's smile drops as he finally notices the other person standing behind Steve. "I need your help."

Bucky shakes his head over and over and over. "Steve, tell me that is not who I think that is."

"Bucky, just hear me out."

"Steve, please, tell me that is not who I think it is!" Bucky begs, his eyes comically wide. He's not angry. In fact, he finds himself mostly concerned for Steve, who clearly seems to have lost his mind. 

"Please, we - I need your help. It's just for a little while."

"No!' Bucky hisses. "She can't stay here! Are you crazy?"

"Come on," Steve begs. "She's just a kid."

"She's a Stark! A Stark! She'll probably try to kill me in my sleep!"

"She can hear you," you sarcastically mutter, a little louder than intended. Both Steve and Bucky's eyes dart over to you, you immediately look away and feign innocence. 

"She's not going to kill you in your sleep," Steve promises. "She just got put in the middle of one of her father's messes. Something you, of all people, should be sympathetic to."

"I should be sympathetic? You want me to help the man that's very literally the reason we're both fugitives," Bucky scoffs. "No, this isn't my problem. I don't care."

"I'm not asking you to help him, I'm asking you to help me. I promised I'd keep her safe."

Bucky's hands fly up in frustration, "Well, why the hell would you promise that?"

"She's a good kid," Steve emphasizes, taking another step towards Bucky, placing a hand on his shoulder. "It's just for a little while. Please?"

"Fine," Bucky acquiesces with a groan. He lets go of the door, allowing you both to enter. "Don't make me regret this, Steve." As you walk past the threshold, you can feel the ire radiating off of him, he sneers down at you, "Hope you're okay with sleeping on the floor, Princess."

"Well... this is gonna be fun," you sarcastically remark. 

"It won't be boring." Steve sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "You should get some rest. It's been a long night." 

"It's 6 at night."

"And you've been on the run since 4 in the morning. Trust me, the adrenaline runs out."

And in spite of Bucky's promise, you didn't actually sleep on the floor. You take the small couch in the living room, curled up in the thin throw blanket with Steve rummaging through his bag. 

As it turns out, he was right about the adrenaline crash. The second you feel even remotely comfortable, you drift off into a restless sleep. As he sorts through his bag and plans out your next move, his eyes flicker back and forth to your sleeping figure. There was no hiding his concern. It was a lot to process, and he dreaded the moment the events of the last week hit you. In one week, you were dosed with a serum. Woke up from the brink of death with unfamiliar strength. You'd been forced out of your home and become a fugitive. 

It's no surprise to him that you toss and turn all night. Even bogged down by exhaustion, there's a part of him that wants to keep a close eye on you. He eventually dozes off, sleeping until the early morning light of the next morning. 

You're also woken up by the morning light streaming through the blinds of Bucky's hideout. You jolt up with a gasp at the unfamiliar scene. 

"Easy, kid," Steve mutters. "We're at Bucky's, remember?"

You shake your head, trying to clear the mental fog, "Right. Bucky. On the run."

"You alright?" Steve hedges. 

"Yeah, I'm fine." You rub your bleary eyes. You don't actually feel that rested. Still, you feel better than you did just last week. 

"Here," Steve offers, handing you a mug as you join him in the kitchenette. "Drink something."

"Thanks." You absentmindedly reach out and grab the mug. The second your hand closes around the mug, your grip shatters the mug. And as your luck would have it, it's at that moment that Bucky enters the room. 

He grimaces at you, then at shattered ceramic at your feet. "You broke my favorite mug."

"I-" you stammer in shock. 

"That was your only mug, Bucky," Steve reminds him. 

"This is exactly the kind of thing I'm talking about," Bucky glowers. "She can't be here. We'll all get caught."

Steve's eyes flicker between you and Bucky. Even as you try to pull on a brave face, you look scared out of your mind. Steve turns to you with an apologetic look, "Why don't you go get cleaned up?"

You nod, walking out of the room with another word. With the utmost concentration, you lightly touch the doorknob. You sigh in relief that you don't accidentally break it. You lightly grasp the doorknob, and without incident, you make it into the bathroom. You mostly take a moment to compose yourself. You take a mental inventory of yourself. Your face. Your eyes. Your cheekbones. You looked so much healthier than a week ago. A lot less... close to death. Healthy even. Healthy and a fugitive. Healthy and in exile. Healthy and unwanted. 

You shake away all those thoughts and force them back down. 

But you can't help but hear the loud argument happening right outside the paper thin walls. 

"This is what I'm talking about, Steve. That girl is a high profile, ticking time bomb. It doesn't matter what you do or where you take her, she's gonna stick out like a sore thumb."

"No, she's not," Steve insists. "Tony put a lot of time and effort into keeping her out of the public eye. And we'll get the breaking things under control. This is all so new, but Tony was working with her to get it under control."

"You seem to be putting a lot of stock into what Tony Stark did or didn't do."

"He messed up," Steve agrees. "I know that he messed up, but that's not the point. The kid is innocent in all of this. She was just ripped from everything that she's ever known because of her father's mistakes. Cut her a little slack."

"Slack?" Bucky incredulously repeats. "There is no slack out here! You were almost caught. I've almost been caught before. It's too much, Steve... Look, I'm not telling you to turn her in. All I'm saying is that maybe this isn't your problem."

"I made a promise."

"Forget about your promise!" Bucky protests. "Worry about yourself for once."

"I can't do that," Steve refuses with a firm shake of his head. "I won't turn my back on her again."

"Why? Why the hell not?"

"Because I can't!" Steve shouts. "I just can't. I've known that kid her entire life. I care about her. She's scared and she needs our help right now. She didn't have any say in anything that happened to her, but she's doing her best. She just needs a little help. Help we can give her."

Bucky groans, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You're killing me, Steve."

"She's a good kid. She's smart. A hell of a lot smarter than you or I were at 17. Just give her a chance, I promise she can hold her own."

"You're responsible for whatever happens," Bucky warns. "You hear me? Figure out how you're gonna make her blend in. And get the breaking things under control."

"I'll take care of it. Don't worry."

Bucky dubiously scoffs, snatching up his jacket and turning to walk out the door, "Sure, you will."

With the front door slammed shut, you figure it's probably safe to come out of hiding. You creak the door open, poking your head out into the hall. 

"How much of that did you hear?"

"Sorry." You walk back to the couch, taking a seat. "I tried not to, but the walls are paper thing. And you know, the weird serum flowing through my veins."

"Are you okay?"

You shrug, not quite sure how to answer his question. Physically, you were fine. Mentally and emotionally, you couldn't deny you were in a bit of weird spot, but who wouldn't be? "Serum flowing through my veins. On the lam. Pretty good considering."

Steve hangs his head apologetically, "I tried to tell him, but Tony would hear it."

"What?" you sarcastically gasp. "My father was being stubborn? I can't believe it."

"He wasn't ready to say goodbye. None of us were."

"I know." The smile on your face drops. You shake your head, thankful for the innate Stark ability to compartmentalize any negative emotion. You couldn't decide how you felt about what your father had done to you. He saved your life while also damning it all in one go. "It doesn't matter. What's done is done. We just roll with the punches."

Steve nods, watching you to gauge your feelings on the situation, "Right."

You hug your knees to your chest, "Bucky really doesn't want me here, does he?"

"He's a little rough around the edges, but he only acts like that when he's worried."

"About me. That I'll get you caught."

"Which you won't. We just have to be careful, maybe take a few more precautions. That's all."

"I have a feeling I'm not gonna like this, but I'll do anything if it keeps us safe."

"Well, right about now, they're probably plastering our faces all over the news. You might want to change up," He gestures to you. "You know, your look, as the kids call it."

You halfheartedly laugh, rolling your eyes, "That's not what the kids call it, Steve."

"You know what I mean," he snorts. "The harder you are to identify, the easier it is to lay low. I grew a beard. Natasha went blonde. That kind of thing."

"Anything else?"

"We're gonna have to move soon. The longer we stay in one place, the more likely it is that someone will spot us."

It's only a few hours later when you find yourself standing in the bathroom staring at the mirror before you, clutching a pair of scissors. You take a deep breath, desperately trying to find the nerve to do it. 

"You don't have to do this if you don't want to."

"I really don't care."

"It seems like you do. And that's okay, kid. Maybe you could dye it or something."

"It just grew back. This is the longest it's ever been since I was kid and I lost it all," you whisper. 

"Kid..." Steve begins to apologize. 

You shake your head again, forcing yourself to make the first cut. The scissors open and close with a resounding snip, taking off more than half of your hair in one go. Steve sucks in a sharp breath as your hair falls to the ground. "It's fine, Steve. I just didn't think I'd be cutting it again, but I also thought I'd be six feet under by now."

"That's not funny."

"Sure it is." You take the scissors and cut off another large chunk. "2 super soldiers and a Stark. All on the run together. It sounds like the start of a really, really bad joke."

He doesn't have any idea what to say as you continue hacking at your hair. He's not even sure if you want to be consoled, so he decides to give you a moment to gather yourself. "I'l give you a minute."

"Okay."

You pretend like every snip of the scissors doesn't bother you at all as you cut chunk after chunk of hair until you're sure it's mostly even. You look down at the bathroom floor to the clumps of hair on the floor. It takes you back to the time Pepper shaved your hair during your first rounds of chemo all those years ago. 

You throw all the hair away and leave the bathroom. The moment you enter the room, you hear Bucky's snarky remark waiting for you, "Guess the Princess finally finished."

"Leave her alone, Bucky," Steve scolds. "She's had it hard."

Bucky snorts, rolling his eyes, "Yeah, okay, 'hard'. What choosing between the steak or the lobster?"

You jokingly twist your mouth, "Actually, I'm allergic to shellfish."

"Not helping," Steve hisses.

You shrug, turning your attention to the sound of your father's familiar voice coming from the TV. You pad over to the living room, watching as he gives a press conference. 

Bucky scoffs, "He's giving press conferences when his daughter allegedly disappeared into thin air."

"He's playing his part, Bucky. Ease up."

You pay no mind to Bucky or his insults about your father. Tony points to a reporter in the first row. "You. Go."

"Is it true you experimented on your daughter with a serum of some sort?"

Tony grimaces, rolling his eyes, "Next question."

"How did your daughter escape custody?"

"I think the better question is how they had her in custody and lost her," he expertly retorts.

"Does it concern you that your daughter is now a fugitive?"

"It concerns me that my daughter is missing and no one seems to be doing anything about it."

"Reports say that Captain Steve Rogers was at the Avengers Compound when your daughter disappeared."

"I think you missed the part where you're supposed to ask a question," Tony remarks. 

"What's your daughter's relationship to Captain Rogers?"

Tony shakes his head in disbelief, his face contorting with disgust, "I'm sorry, what exactly are you implying?"

"Did your daughter run away with Captain Rogers because she was in a romantic relationship with him?" the reporter plainly asks. 

"Ew..." you cringe dramatically, your face contorting with repulsion. "No offense, Steve, but you're old enough to be my grandfather."

Steve's head vehemently shakes, pinching the bridge of his nose so tightly that you worry he might break it. "Considering I actually was friends with your grandfather, none taken."

All the while, Bucky is maniacally laughing harder than you've ever seen. It isn't until Steve slaps Bucky upside the head that he finally stops laughing while you turn your head back to the screen just in time to see your father speak with a resounding firmness. "I'm only going to say this one. My 17 year old daughter did not run away. While in the custody of the U.S. Government, she disappeared. I don't know where she is, and I want nothing more than for her to be found safe and sound."

"So you don't think it's too coincidental that they both disappeared last night? What was a known fugitive even doing at the Avengers Compound?" 

Tony holds a hand up, halting all further questions. "All I will say is that I have the utmost faith in Steve Rogers. I won't be taking anymore questions today."

The moment those words leave Tony's mouth, the screen goes dark. You turn around to see Steve with the remote in hand and a apologetic expression, "Sorry, kid, I just - I don't think you should be watching that. It's gonna get ugly."

You think about every person in your life. Your old life. Every person that will be raked over the coals because they were trying to save your life. Tony. Pepper. Peter. Bruce. Everyone. "You're right, it's going to get ugly."

Chapter Text

"What do you mean you're leaving?"

"You're so dramatic," Steve groans, rolling his eyes at Bucky as he makes his way to the door, "I'll be back in an hour. I'm just getting a few things so we're ready to move when we have to." 

"Then take her with you!" Bucky insists. 

Your eyes volley back and forth between the two men, not bothering to pretend that you're not listening to them talk about you. 

"It'll be quicker if I go alone." Though he did ask you if you were okay with being left alone with Bucky given your tense encounters. You shrugged Steve off and told him you didn't care. Steve only wished Bucky was as ambivalent. 

"Fine, then I'll go with you!"

"We can't leave her alone."

"Well, I don't babysit."

"You're not babysitting because she's not a baby."

Bucky quickly steps in front of the door, wedging himself in the doorframe. "I mean it, Steve! What the hell am I supposed to do with her?"

"I don't know, maybe, and I know this seems a little far fetched, talk to her," Steve incredulously suggests. "Have a normal, civil conversation."

Bucky snorts, "With a Stark?"

"With another person. Don't you remember what it's like to be 17?"

"No, actually, I don't."

"You two will be fine." Steve peels Bucky away from the doorframe, stepping through the door. "I'll be back in an hour. Kid, you have the burner phone I gave you?"

"Yeah." 

"Call me if you need anything."

"Got it."

"Steve, I mean it - " Bucky begins to object again. This time, he's met with the door snapping shut before him. He stares at the door for a long moment. He shakes his head, muttering under his breath, "I'm gonna kill him."

Bucky barely acknowledges your existence as he walks back to his kitchen. He plops himself down at the table, staring at the wall in front of him.

You take this as an opportunity to smooth things over with him. Sure, you didn't really do anything to him, but your father was still mostly responsible for him and Steve being fugitives. You take the only other seat at the table, plopping yourself right in his line of sight. "You know, Steve's told me all about you. He made you sound a lot nicer though."

Bucky barely offers a grunt in response. 

"But I'm thinking that treatment is reserved for me. Because I'm a Stark."

Bucky continues to ignore you, shifting his intense glare to the small kitchen window.

"I don't blame you for what happened to my grandparents. I know it wasn't your fault."

For the first time since you met him, his gaze shifts to you, "Your father does." 

"But I'm not my father."

"Sure you are," Bucky remarks. "Apples don't fall far from the tree."

Your brows pull in. You loved your father. You loved him as your father, as a scientist, as an innovator. And still, you weren't blind to his temper, to his constant need to strive for bigger and better. He wasn't a person that could leave well enough alone. You knew that firsthand. "What does that mean?"

"It means, that it's really only a matter of time before that Stark arrogance and cutthroat ambition kicks in. All you morals, ethics, everything that's right or wrong, it'll mean nothing to you. Consequences be damned. Just like your father."

You're not sure that you're the person that's supposed to be hearing this. These words weren't meant for you, but he unloads it on you anyway. "Don't talk about my father like you know him."

"Isn't that what he did to you? Consequences be damned. He wanted to make his perfect little daughter a perfect super soldier." 

You shake your head over and over, "That's not true."

"Sure it is." He raises an eyebrow. "He's willing to use every single person in his orbit as his little experiments. There's not a single person that he isn't willing to use and discard. That's why you're here and not with him."

You shakily exhale, your voice tinged with laughter, "Ouch."

"Truth stings, doesn't it?"

"I was dying," you state, staring at Bucky. His eyes widen slightly as his face drops. He looks over at you. You stare down at the table, tears starting to fall down your face. "Cancer. That's why he did what he did. He was trying to save my life."

He remains quiet, though this time it's not of his own volition. You've left him speechless. You wordlessly stand up, and take a seat back on the couch to wait for Steve. You lift your knees up, propping your head on them, and pull the hood of your sweater up. 

For the remainder of the hour that Steve is gone, Bucky sits in the uncomfortable silence. He can't quite think of another time he's felt like a bigger jackass. 

And considering he's the reason you're upset, he's pretty sure he has no right to console you or to try to smooth things over without Steve's presence. 

The moment he hears Steve's familiar steps, he bolts for the door, quickly stepping outside into the hall. Steve's eyes widen as Bucky blocks Steve's entrance into the apartment. 

"Okay, now, don't be mad."

"Oh God," Steve groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. "What did you do?"

"What makes you think I did anything?"

"What did you do?"

"Okay, okay, I'll tell you. I just want you to know that I didn't mean to. I just - I kinda lost sight of the fact that she's a kid. And that I wasn't talking to Tony Stark."

"What do you mean? Bucky, what the hell did you do?"

Bucky's mouth twists remorsefully, "I might've said some things... About her family. About how eventually she'll lost sight of all morals, ethics, and sense of right and wrong with that Stark ego. And I may have said something along the lines of her father discarding her and dumping her here with you."

Bucky cringes as he recounts each barbed word he threw at you. "But - but in my defense, I didn't think she'd cry - and - and I didn't know that she was dying. If you think about it, it's really on you for not telling me that. And that means this whole thing is sorta all your fault."

"My fault?" Steve squawks. "So she has to have cancer for you to be nice to - Wait, you made her cry?"

Bucky winces, "There may have been tears."

"I left you alone for an hour. One hour. How did this even happen?"

"Well, she just started talking. I was trying to ignore her, but she just kept talking. She went on and one, saying how you told her about me, that I was nice, and she didn't think I was to blame for her grandparents. I don't know, I just kinda snapped."

"So she, a 17 year old, a child, tried to be the bigger person and smooth things over with you, not that she really had to because she's not her father. And instead of being patient, or at the very least not yelling at her, you berated and insulted her and her family? That's what you're telling me?"

Bucky throws his arms up in exasperation, "Well, when you put it like that, it sounds really bad!"

"Because it is really bad!" 

"Okay, okay, I admit, I was being a jackass."

Steve rolls his eyes, "How did you leave it?" 

"I didn't get to say anything else. She just put her headphones in and sat on the couch with her hoodie up like an angsty teenager."

"She is an angsty teenager! She was on death's doorstep last week. This week, she's a fugitive with powers that she never wanted. I think that would make anyone a little angsty!" 

"Okay, okay! I already said I was being a jackass. Go talk to her or something. She's on the couch with her headphones in."

"Headphones?" 

"There those little things that you put in your ear - "

"I know what headphones are!"

"Okay," Bucky raises his hands in innocence. "No need to shout."

Steve grits his teeth, trying to remain calm in spite of the two children he was now looking after. "Just let me talk to her. Then, you can apologize."

"Fine," Bucky huffs like a petulant child. 

Steve walks through the door first. He spots you on the couch, "Kid?"

"I don't think she can hear you."

Steve holds up a finger, walking up to you and pulling on the loose headphone wire. He holds the wire up, showing Bucky that it's not connected to anything. He pulls down your head to find you staring up at him with a sly smirk on your face. 

Bucky sputters, "What the hell?"

"She doesn't cry," Steve explains. "And she didn't bring her phone with her. There's nothing to plug her headphones into. I'm surprised she even has them."

"Yes, I do cry," you retort. "I can cry."

"I can count on one hand how many times I've seen you genuinely cry. You can, however, cry on cue, but no, you don't cry." 

You narrow your eyes at Steve, "You don't know that."

"I've known you since you were five years old. That's how you used to get out of homeschooling."

A crocodile tear falls down your cheek, "But Uncle Steve.."

He points a disapproving finger at you, "Don't Uncle Steve me, that doesn't work on me anymore."

"Oh my God," Bucky exhales. "She's an actual psychopath."

"And you're an asshole!" you retort. 

"Language!" Steve remarks. He turns to Bucky, gesturing to you, "Now apologize."

"Me?" Bucky's eyes widen in disbelief. "She fake cried to make me feel bad."

"Do I need to remind you what you did?" Steve rhetorically asks. 

Bucky grumbles, "But, Steve..."

"There's two adults in this room, Bucky. Can you please act like one of them?"

"Don't bother," you object. "I head you from in here. You only feel bad because I had cancer. I don't need you to feel bad for me. I don't want to be here any more than you want me here."

"Okay, okay, can we all just calm down?"

Bucky scoffs, turning away from you, "Whatever, Princess."

"Whatever, Buchanan," you counter.

Bucky whirls around, glaring at you, "What did you just call me?"

"What's wrong, Buchanan?" you taunt. "You don't like the taste of your own medicine?"

"Don't call me that."

"Don't call me Princess. At least Buchanan is your name."

"I already told you to quit calling me that. No one calls me that. Who even -" He looks at Steve, who looks entirely fed up with you and Bucky. "Why? Why? Why would you tell her my full name?"

"In my defense, I was just telling her a story." Steve looks pointedly at you, "I certainly didn't think she'd use that against you."

"I have no regrets. He started it." 

Steve quietly mutters to himself watching as you and Bucky bicker back and forth. "How the hell did I end up here?" 

Chapter Text

The days passed quietly. Or more accurately, as quietly as they could with you and Bucky still exchanging barbed words and harsh quips. 

Your interactions with Bucky were short and to the point, but other than a few sarcastic remarks, his open hostility toned down quite a bit. 

"I'm going to bed. Steve, can you make sure Bucky doesn't try to smother me?"

Steve shakes his head, rolling his eyes, "Good night."

"Like Steve could stop me," Bucky mutters under his breath. "Giant pain in my ass."

"I heard that!" you hiss. 

"Bucky," Steve admonishes.

Bucky rolls his eyes, standing up from the kitchen table, "Alright, alright, I'm going to bed too. Good night."

You flick off the lights, settling onto the couch while Steve took the cot on the floor. "We could switch if you wanted."

Steve's eyes remain shut as he curls himself further into the small cot. "It's fine. Go to sleep."

"I'm just offering."

"I'm too tall for the couch. And I'm used to cots. Good night," he emphasizes. 

You close your eyes, tossing and turning slightly. "Grumpy old man."

"I heard that."

"Good night," you mock him. 

Sleep finds you quickly. It feels like you've slept for half a second when you're jolted awake by the feeling of Bucky's hand covering your mouth.

"I knew it," you shout, your voice muffled by Bucky's hand. "I knew you would try to smother me."

"Do you ever shut up?" Bucky hisses. 

You swipe Bucky's hand over your mouth, "What the hell are you doing?"

Bucky ignores you, swiftly kicking Steve as he sleeps on the floor. "Steve. Steve."

He moves his hand from your mouth, pressing a finger to his lips. That's when you hear it. The faint flutter of helicopter blades beating in the sky. Steve is up on his feet without hesitation. His eyes frantically sweep the area, looking for any sign of trouble. 

"Grab your bag. We're leaving now," Bucky orders. 

"How many do you think?" Steve whispers, listening as the sound of sirens swarm the building. 

"I'm not sure."

"How sure are we that they're here for us?" you ask.

A booming voice comes through a loud speaker, "Steve Rogers. James Buchanan Barnes. You're surrounded. Exit the premises voluntarily and no harm will come to you."

"I rescind that question."

"Shit," Bucky exhales. 

"Our best bet is gonna be the rooftops." 

"The rooftops?" you squeak. 

"Will you keep your voice down?" Bucky scolds. 

Steve grips your shoulders, his intense gaze boring down on you. "Stay close. Stay low. Nothing's gonna happen to you."

You shakily nod, once again having nothing to offer but your blind faith that somehow this would all be okay. Steve takes your hand, guiding you out the back window and up the fire escape. 

"I've got visual," a voice barks, a voice that doesn't belong to Steve or Bucky. 

It's nowhere near as difficult as you thought it would be to keep up with Steve or Bucky as you make it to the rooftop. That is, until you get to the edge of the roof. You stand at the very lip of the roof, the gravel at your feet kicks off the roof, falling down into the ground that seems to get further and further away with every second that you look down. 

The words leave Bucky's mouth like a breezy statement, like he's telling you his favorite color, "We're gonna have to jump." 

"Jump?" you squawk. "Are you crazy?"

He ignores your panicked words, taking several large steps backward and running at the ledge at full speed. 

"It's easier that it looks," Steve promises. "You've just got to do it."

"I've just got to do it?" you repeat incredulously. "That's your advice? And if I don't make it?"

"Bucky's right there. He'll catch you."

"Oh, well, that makes me feel so much better!" you sarcastically exclaim, sneaking a glance behind you to see agents at the top of the fire escape. "My life is in the hands of a guy that hates me!"

"Kid," Steve sharply warns. 

You take several steps back, following Bucky's moves exactly, "This has got to be the dumbest thing I've ever done."

You hear gunshots ring out as you propel yourself as far as you can over the distance between roofs. You flail up until the moment you hit the concrete rooftop with a tumble to the ground. 

You pop up right beside where Bucky stands. "I did it. I'm alive."

"Not the time to celebrate, Princess," Bucky mutters, snatching your hand as he tugs you to the other side of the rooftop. You toss a glance over your shoulder when you hear Steve land with a muted thud beside you. 

"Why are they shooting at you? Don't they want you alive?"

"Doesn't seem like it, does it?" Bucky quips, guiding you to the edge of yet another rooftop. 

"You've got to be kidding me," you mutter. 

Bucky doesn't need to make a single sarcastic comment, but the smirk on his face tells you that he takes the slightest bit of joy from seeing you flail off of roof after roof until you get enough distance to scale down a fire escape and duck into a crowded open market. 

"Great," Bucky huffs. "Now what?"

"There's a train station right there," you point out like it should be obvious to him. 

"And when they recognize us, Princess?" Bucky points out in the same tone. 

You pluck a hat off a nearby stand, slipping a few dollars to the vendor from your pocket. "I don't see you coming up with any better ideas, Buchanan."

"And who are they?" the ticket attendant asks, gazing over your shoulder to the two super soldiers behind you.  

"My... dad and my uncle."

She quirks an eyebrow at you, "And which one is your dad?"

"Which one do you think is my dad?" you prompt. 

"Miss, do you need help?" she asks in a hushed tone. "I can call security."

You scoff with indignation, "I'm sorry... are you accusing my single, widowed father of kidnapping me?"

The attendants gaze darts back down, handing you the three ticket without another word. 

You beam at her, "Thank you."

"We've got to work on your cover," Steve mutters as you head to the train platform. 

You roll your eyes at him, "It worked, didn't it?"

The three of you board the train, tucking yourself into the back corner of a train car. Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, "Where the hell did you buy us tickets to anyway?"

"A nearby town," you explain. "Town is just about 100 miles out. Big enough that we won't call attention to ourselves. Small enough that there won't be a lot of authorities on the lookout for us. And close enough that the attendant didn't get suspicious... or any more suspicious."

Steve smirks at Bucky, raising his eyebrows in a knowing, almost prideful way. "Told you. She's smart."

"Congrats," Bucky snarks. "I'm going to sleep. Wake me when we get there."

"Or we could just leave you on the train," you suggest. 

Bucky's eyes flicker open once more, just to glare at you. 

The night slips away as you fall in and out of a fitful sleep. The adrenaline is slow to seep from your bones, leaving you feeling like a live wire when you're awake. When sleep finds you, you dream of your home, your dad, Peter, all the things and people left behind. It's well into morning when the train makes it final stop at a small town. 

"Follow the crowd," you tell Steve and Bucky the moment you step onto the platform. "They'll probably lead us to a tourist center or somewhere with more people." 

"And then what?" 

"We find a map. Change our clothes. Find out how we get away from here as fast as we can without leaving a paper trail."

"Good idea, kid," Steve pointedly remarks, staring at Bucky. 

"I get it, Steve," Bucky grits. 

You follow the dozen or so people as they head into what was probably the town square. Cobblestone lines the roads, small shops, tables against storefronts. A nice, quaint little town. Perfect to regroup. 

You plop yourself down on one of those small, rickety tables, slinging your backpack onto the table. 

"I'm going to find a map and see if they have any food. You two stay here," Steve orders, already walking away before either of you can object. He turns back around, his eyes narrowed at the both of you, "And don't kill each other."

You roll your eyes, but otherwise remain silent. Bucky settles into the chair in front of you, his arms crossed over his chest like a petulant child. The strange, silent staring contest lasts for all of five minutes before Bucky gets impatient. He stands up in a restless huff, "Steve's taking long. I'm gonna go check on him."

You lean back in your chair with a languid shrug, "Have fun."

Bucky rolls his eyes, scoffs, then walks away.

As he walks, he can't quite figure out how he got roped into all this. What he does know is that this is one giant recipe for a disaster. Somehow, some way, he knew this ended up either with Tony Stark wanting him even more dead or with him in handcuffs. He grumbles to himself, cursing himself for allowing himself to get mixed up in this mess. They got lucky last night. That's all it was, pure luck. And at some point, that luck would run out. 

He's in the middle of his reverie when he finds Steve inside a store, replenishing on supplies with a map in hand. 

Steve groans, his hands raising in frustration, "I thought I told you to wait with her."

"That was ten minutes ago. Do I need to remind what happened the last time you left us alone? She cried!"

"Fake cried," Steve corrects. 

"Are you done?"

"Yeah, there's a bus station close by. It'll take us to another train station. From there we can go almost anywhere," Steve explains, leaving the store and walking back to the table where Bucky left you. His eyebrows furrow when he spots the empty table, "Bucky? Did you guys move after I left?"

Bucky follows Steve's line of sight, his blood running cold when he sees your backpack left strewn on the table. "No, I left her right there."

Bucky immediately scours the area, looking for anything, any sign of you. Guilt pools in the pit of his stomach. He half tries to convince himself that you're playing a joke on him to get back at him for leaving you alone. 

The burner phone in Steve's pocket rings. The phone that only you had the number to. He lifts the phone to his ear, "Kid? Where are you?"

"Did you lose something?" a man's voice rumbles through. 

The muscle in Steve's jaw ticks as he speaks through clenched teeth, "Who is this?"

"Why don't you come and find out?"

"Where is she? What did you do with her?"

"It was so easy to follow you after SWORD did all the hard work for us. They led us right to you. Do you know what's the only thing better than a super soldier?... A super soldier that's also a Stark. How much would Tony Stark pay to have her back? What would it be worth to SWORD?"

Steve's fist clenches at his side. "What do you want?"

"I want the Winter Solider."

Steve's eyes dart to his life-long friend, standing there listening to every word coming from the other end of the line. Even with all the barbed words and mild animosity, Bucky stands before him with a guilt ridden expression, looking every bit ready and willing to hand himself over. "Where are you?" 

Chapter Text

“You know we’re walking right into a trap, Steve.”

“I know.”

Bucky nods, turning the corner and entering the building. "Then let's do this."

"I counted 10 floors. They're gonna try to overwhelm us before we ever make it to her. If you're what they're after, they'll have no issue taking all three of us if they get the chance," Steve carefully calculates out loud. "We'll stay together. Keep as quiet as we can. Avoid guns if we can. The element of surprise can only help us here." 

"Got it." 

"We'll go floor by floor. Sweep the area then move on, but if my gut's right, they'll have her on the roof. They'll want to back us into a corner. Let's move."

Steve takes the lead, following his directive to a tee. Floor after floor, fighting through infestations of HYDRA agents all waiting for them. Sweeping each floor with no sign of you. 

Meanwhile, you stand at the very edge of the building's roof. Your heels dangle off the ledge, toes barely sitting on the ledge. An unfamiliar man holds you by your throat with a grip light enough to allow for airflow. 

"When I get down from here, I'm gonna kick your ass," you rasp against the man's hand. 

"Shut up," the man spits at you. 

"Are you really that scared of getting beat up by a girl? Put the gun down and let's see how big of a man you really are," you taunt, futilely swinging your fist at him. 

"I won't tell you again."

"I won't tell you again," you mock. 

Out of breath from fighting through dozens of floors of HYDRA agents, Bucky crouches in the doorway, watching as you egg your abductor on. "Does she ever know when to stop mouthing off?"

"I guess she did get something from her father," Steve whispers, silently signaling Bucky to take the opposite side of the roof. 

Bucky nods, flanking the man, "Drop the gun."

The man smirks at the sight of Bucky standing before him. "I knew you'd come."

"He said drop it," Steve barks from the other side, surrounding the man. "Drop it and give us the kid back."

"The soldier first."

"The girl first," Steve orders. 

The man's grip tightens, forcing you even further off the ledge. So far that you can't feel the ground beneath your feet. Steve watches on as your legs flail in the air, trying to kick the man and take the pressure off your windpipe. 

Your eyes dart to just behind Steve, watching as several HYDRA agents try to surprise him. Steve doesn't even hear the sounds of the gravel shifting behind him, too focused on getting you back and out of harm's way. You take your hand off the man's grip, pointing to behind Steve, you choppily exhale, "Behind you."

"Let her go!" Steve demands. 

Your abductor languidly shrugs. Your eyes widen as you realize what's about to happen. He smirks at you, then at Steve, "Alright."

Your hearts falls to the pit of your stomach when he finally lets go, dropping you off the ledge of the rooftop. You helplessly reach for the air, trying to grab to anything to keep you from plummeting to your death. Your fall is silent in the surrounding calamity. 

"Steve!" Bucky shouts. 

Steve dives for you, but before he can reach you, the HYDRA agents pounce on the two of them. It's a whirlwind, and yet there's nothing, not the dozen agents, not being hopelessly outmanned and outgunned, that can keep Steve's rage in check. 

And before Bucky realizes it, Steve storms towards the man that just dropped you off the building. He dodges the fists thrown, twisting his arm behind his back. He pushes him closer and closer to the ledge with every punctuated word, "Do you understand what you did? You killed an innocent girl, an innocent child." Lost in his rage, he remembers you as a kid. He remembers Tony's words, reminding him that to you, Steve was as close to family as anyone could get. "You killed my niece."

His morality, his ethics, his beliefs are nothing but small voices in the back of Steve's head. He doesn't even feel guilty about the fear flashing in the man's eyes. With one swift kick to the chest, the man stumbles back, almost going over the ledge. Steve grabs the man's utility vest, narrowly keeping him from falling. "She didn't deserve that."

"Steve!" Bucky tries to stop him, but Steve's grip moves from the vest to the man's throat.

He dangles him over the ledge the way he dangled you moments before letting you go. "Should I kill you the way you killed her?"

"Steve!" you shout from below. "Could I get some help here? Maybe before you avenge my death?"

Bucky's eyes blow wide, scrambling towards the edge of the roof to look. And sure enough, your hand is clawed into the building's stone. "Oh my God..."

Steve tosses the man in his hands back onto the roof like he weighs nothing. He takes off down the stairs with Bucky right on his heels. Bucky stops for a moment, turning back to look at the man's face paled with fear. He smirks at him, reaching for his gun. He fires a single shot into the man's leg, doing nothing as he hears the man's screams of pain. 

With the odd, open shape of the building, they each take a floor above and below the side of the building where you held on. Bucky reaches you first. He opens the door to the abandoned apartment, tossing the patio door open. He climbs over the metal gate of the patio, reaching over as far as he can. It's not far enough.

"I can't reach you. You're gonna have to jump." 

"I can't! I'll fall!" you shout down at him.

"Come on, kid. You're gonna have to trust me here . Swing a little and let go. I'll catch you. I promise, I'm not gonna let anything happen to you."

With all the upper body strength you possess, you swing yourself slightly and let go. Bucky snatches your hand, hauling you up with his vibranium hand. 

"Thank you." You offer a small smile to Bucky. You theatrically dust yourself off, sighing in relief, "Whew... that was a close one."

Steve dashes into the apartment to see you safely on over the railing and with Bucky. 

The moment you see him, you cross your arms, tired and aching from dangling off the side of a building. "Damn it, Steve! Have you not seen any movie ever? You never tell the guy dangling a person over the cliff to let them go!" 

He ignores your swear words and sarcastic remarks, instead, he pulls you into a crushing embrace. "Don't ever scare me like that again."

"I'll try not to," your mumble into his shoulder. "This is nice."

He lets out a sigh of relief, pulling away to thoroughly examine you. "You're okay? You're not hurt? Shoulder dislocated? Hand broken?"

You gently pat your shoulder and shrug, "I don't think so, I feel fine."

He lifts your chin, jerking it in different directions to examine your face and neck. "Your throat's going to bruise. Can you breathe okay? Does it hurt to breathe? Can you take a deep breath? What about -"

You swat Steve's hand away, "I'm fine, really! I might have whiplash now, but I'm fine!"

He shakily exhales, bending down with one hand on his knee and the other over his heart, "Are you sure?"

"Are you okay? You look like you're about to have a heart attack!" You turn to Bucky, "Is Steve about to have a heart attack?"

"I don't know." Bucky shrugs, resting his hands on his hips. You look over at him silently imploring him to do something, anything. He sighs, rolling his eyes in acquiescence. He takes a step forward, leaning over to clap Steve on the back, "Deep breaths, Steve. She's fine."

You throw your hands up, "That's it? That's your big intervention?"  

"Oh, I'm sorry, let me go grab my emergency defibrillator," Bucky sarcastically remarks. 

Steve straightens his spine, once again fussing over you, "Are you sure? What if you're just in shock? Are you positive you're okay?"

You swat Steve's hand away from you, "Yes, Mother Hen. I'm fine, but maybe, just maybe, we might not want to hang out in the place swarming with the bad guys!" 

"Right! Right! Good idea!" Steve agrees, his shoulders still quickly rising and falling with his panicked breathing. "You've never leaving my sight again, by the way." 

"Why?" you scoff, a snort of laughter leaving your mouth. "I've got great odds. I've literally escaped imminent death twice!" 

"Alright, settle down," Bucky interrupts. "Don't let that go to your head." 

"It might just be adrenaline, but I feel great!" you exclaim the moment you exit the abandoned building and back into the town square. 

"Okay, but maybe we don't tempt fate?" Steve calls after you as you practically skip down the cobblestone pavements.

Though he'd never admit it, Bucky bites back a smile, quirking an eyebrow as you outpace the both of them. "Should we stop her?"

"I say we let her run it off." 

Bucky snorts, smirking over at Steve, "Says the man that almost had a self induced heart attack."

"Funny, very funny, jerk." 

"Punk," Bucky retorts. "So now what?" 

"We keep with the plan. Bus station to a bigger train station." 

"And then what?

Steve watches on as you continue on your merry way. He knows that adrenaline wears off. He knows that what comes next isn't easy. The three of you all running for an undetermined amount of time. He doesn't know how long this moment of lightness will continue before the loss seeps into your bones.

He'll let you have this short moment, the feeling of invincibility, the rush of surviving such bleak odds. And still, he knows what you and Tony both refused to admit, there was no coming back from this.

"We keep running." 

Chapter Text

"Are we going to talk about what happened back there?" 

Steve shakes his head, staring out the train window as the rural scenery blurs past him. "No." 

Bucky watches Steve for a long moment, debating on what to say to get through to him.

That was the thing about Steve Rogers. He was so many things all at once. A hero. A protector. A leader. A soldier.

And everything he did, he did with such an intensity and ferocity that there was no swaying the man. It didn't matter that half the time his head and heart were at war with each other. He'd sooner tear himself into pieces than allow himself to be anything less than everything all at once.

"That was serious, Steve." 

"What part of it?" 

"All of it." Bucky couldn't stop picturing Steve like he was on that rooftop. That darkness in his eyes. The hate blooming in his heart. He almost killed a man out of pure hate and unbridled rage. Bucky and Steve had both seen death firsthand, and yet, Bucky had never once seen Steve react quite like that. And while part of it was simply that you were a kid, Bucky would be blind not to see that there was far more to it. It was a glimpse into the life that Steve lived without Bucky. A glimpse of the new family Steve found himself. "You stopped pulling your punches. You almost dropped that guy from the roof. That's not you. And that's not to mention, the self induced heart attack." 

"I haven't felt my heart sink like that since..." Steve's words trail off as he slips back into the memory of that fateful day all those decades ago. 

"Since what?" 

Steve's eyes meet Bucky's for the first time since they boarded the train. They both know the answer to that question. Still, Steve quietly answers, "Since I watched you fall from the train." 

It shouldn't feel like as much of a gut punch as it does. Not after all these decades. But it does. It knocks the wind out of him, "Oh." 

Steve gulps, settling back into his seat. He looks around the empty car for something else to rest his eyes on. He always wondered if the guilt of that fateful day would ever fade, but at this point, seventy years later, he's not sure that it ever will. "Yeah..." 

Bucky doesn't really know what to say to break the palpable tension dwelling in the train car. You weren't even awake to interject with a sarcastic comment or verbal jab.

He knew it was bad when he sort of hoped you'd wake just to give them something else to focus on. The sounds of the train engine rumbling somewhere in the distance is the only thing filling the prolonged, tense silence.

And for the first time in their very long lives, neither super soldier knows quite what to say to the other. 

Bucky crosses his arms over his chest, "You're really attached to this kid." 

It was just another layer of issues between them. Yet another disagreement between the duo. After decades apart, Bucky wasn't quite sure what to expect, but it certainly wasn't this. This Steve was different. Complicated. Still the boy from Brooklyn, and yet so different. These days, they were just as likely to disagree as they were to agree.

You were yet another thing they couldn't find common ground on. Steve's jaw tenses, tenderly watching over you as you sleep off the adrenaline crash from earlier. "I don't expect you to understand." 

Those words hurt Bucky more than Steve could ever know, hitting him like a punch to the lungs. He was right though, Bucky couldn't, didn't, understand. He couldn't understand how Steve had moved on without him. 

"You said she was your niece. You meant that. I know you did." 

"I did. I do." Steve crosses his arms over his chest, shaking his head, "Tony... He's complicated, sure, but for a while, we were all a family. The team - we were a family. We all watched her grow up. And Tony - he - he's my friend."

"Not anymore, Steve," Bucky bitterly reminds him.  

"He's the one that arranged for me to go back," Steve admits, his voice just above a whisper. 

Bucky bristles at the new information, "What?"

Steve lets out a shaky sigh, "In spite of everything I did, he let me come back to say goodbye." 

Bucky could hardly believe the word's leaving Steve's mouth. And yet, they were so quintessentially Steve Rogers. He was more worried about what he did to Tony Stark than the fact that Tony Stark was single handedly responsible for sending them both on the run. Instead, Steve sat before him grateful that Tony Stark allowed him to say a final goodbye, as though it undid all the malice and destruction. 

His hands clench into fists, frustration coursing through Bucky's veins, "You didn't tell me that."

"I knew what you would say." Bucky can't help but notice that there isn't an ounce of remorse in Steve's voice. "That it was a bad idea. That I shouldn't go."

"Or I would've told you he was trying to set you up."

"No," Steve softly disagrees. "He knew. He knew I would've regretted it for the rest of my life if I hadn't gone. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself."

"He was never going to let her die. He was always going to do whatever it took."  

"If he hadn't... if he hadn't used the serum, she wouldn't be here right now." Steve stares down at his hand, replaying those few days at the Compound. Tony Stark was many things, but a wallower wasn't one of them. And yet, for days, he watched Tony wallow. He watched as the sleep deprived, heartbroken man wracked his brain to figure out how to save you. The sight of the hollow eyed, ghostly looking man would forever be burned into Steve's memory. "It was an act of desperation, Buck. A desperate man doing a desperate thing." 

"You're not seriously defending what he did." 

Steve shakes his head, his eyebrows furrowing, "No, I just - I know what was on the line for him."

"He's not the only person who's lost somebody."

The muscle in Steve's jaw ticks, "Say what you want about the man, but he's a damn good father. He loves that kid with everything he is. You didn't see what we saw."

Bucky bites back a scoff, "And what is that?"

Steve's eyes flash over to Bucky, and for the quickest of moments, Bucky sees the lingering grief of what almost was consume Steve's normal hopeful demeanor. And though he would never admit it, Bucky's heart breaks a little when he sees Steve gaze float back over to you as you remain blissfully unaware.

It's wrong, he knows. It's wrong to be jealous of a child. It's wrong to want to be the only family Steve has, to be the most important person in Steve's life once more. It's all wrong. He can't fault you for that. He can't fault you for being apart of Steve's family, for becoming the family Steve desperately needed when Bucky wasn't there. And when he digs deep enough, he knows he truly can't blame Tony for how far he went. Not if it left Tony in even a fraction of the pain it left Steve in.

"A broken man about to lose the only thing that ever really, truly mattered to him." Steve lets out a shaky exhale, his words soft and low, raw with emotion, "I don't think he would've survived it." 

And still, Bucky's words come out just as barbed and jaded as before, "So the ends justify the means?" 

"Of course not," Steve grits out, his voice hardening as he speaks to Bucky. Another unacknowledged jab at their lost kinship. "But the man was literally trying to cure cancer to save his daughter. I don't have to agree, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't understand."

"I think that's the most selfish thing I've ever heard you say." 

Steve takes a deep breath, nodding slightly, "I know."

"Being super soldiers cost us everything and more," Bucky reminds him.

"I know."

"She was damned the moment he put that serum in her veins." The words are bitter. Bucky knows it was a petty, vile thing to say. He knows he didn't even really need to say it. Everyone in that train car knew it. It hung in the air as a cold reminder that nothing would ever be the same. 

"I know!" Steve snaps. The two of them watch as you twitch from your deep sleep, waiting for a long silent moment until your breathing evens once more. Steve grabs his sweater from beside him, lying it over your huddled body. He watches you for a long moment, recalling the night Tony did the unthinkable. After all, isn't that what he told him? There was no coming back from it. With one, desperate, impulsive act, Tony Stark had given and taken your life. "But she had no say in how far he was willing to go. She didn't choose this." 

"This doesn't end well, Steve. Not for all three of us. Not like this." 

"I know," he softly exhales. 

"This doesn't get easier, Steve. We both know that." 

Bucky isn't sure what it is that shines bright in Steve's eyes, desperation or delusion, "We need a plan. That's all. A plan. We'll be fine. It'll be fine." 

"Who are you trying to convince?" 

Steve doesn't answer the question. He knows he doesn't really need to. He may not have been able to save Bucky, but he knows, deep down, he can still save you. He whispers, his voice soft with desperation, "We just need a plan." 

"One hell of a plan." Bucky stares down Steve for a long moment. He hasn't seen a determination this fierce in Steve's expression since the Accords. In that moment, Bucky knows that there's no way in hell Steve is leaving you behind.  And while Steve may have built a family in those years without Bucky, Steve was still the only family Bucky had left. So in spite of all the layers of complexity and distance between the two of them, he chooses the only family he's ever known. There's no way in hell he's leaving behind Steve. He takes a deep breath, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "So where do we start?"