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Wakanda was a beautiful place. It had this ethereal beauty that made Steve feel as though he was transported into a different world each time he set foot outside. Ever since Bucky had decided to go back into the ice, Steve had taken to exploring the jungle just outside of the compound’s doors. The feel of nature – the buzzing of creatures all around him – the sounds of life helped ease his deadening heart. All the drive, all the stubbornness in him had drained away the moment the tube slid shut, encasing his friend in the ice once again. He still believed that what he did was right – the Accords were nothing but a leash – but if so, why did he feel so lost?
Wanda had gone with Clint, the two of them venturing out into the city despite T’Challa’s warnings to stay hidden. Steve could understand their feeling. Anger coursed through him at the thought of Wanda, not at her, but at Tony. He didn’t understand how the man could consent to locking her up – first in the Avengers’ facility, and later again at the Raft. When he’d gone to break them out, he nearly threw up at the sight of Wanda in a straitjacket and a shock collar. She had remained catatonic even when he gently pried the collar open, and it wasn’t until they reached Wakanda that she began to stir. The rest of the rogue team had been equally upset over their time at the Raft, Sam even more so when he realized that Bucky was missing an arm, and that Tony had been the one responsible for that.
Steve didn’t manage to get a word in edgewise before Clint was cursing up a storm, the archer condemning Tony with every sentence.
Sam stayed with him, every bit the loyal friend he was, and Scott disappeared – only resurfacing occasionally when they had meals together. Steve felt a twinge of guilt at having dragged the man down with them, but comforted himself with the thought that they weren’t in jail. He’d done his part – he’d gotten them out of jail. He could have left them there, but he went back for them.
A small part of his mind told him that he couldn’t have done so if Tony hadn’t been incapacitated.
Steve shook his head, trying to clear his mind of any thoughts. The fight had happened, he couldn’t do anything about it. He had done his part by sending Tony the means of communication – a risk on his part considering he was a fugitive – and all that was left was for Tony to contact him.
A phone goes both ways, his mind whispered traitorously.
Steve ignored it.
He trudged through the jungle, taking the time to just appreciate nature. And that was all that he was doing – appreciating nature, nothing more, nothing less. When the sky began to darken, Steve turned back, his shoulders hunching the closer he got to the facility. The state-of-the-art facility was more similar to the Avengers’ compound than Steve ever thought it would be, and it pained him whenever he put together a sandwich and turned, only to find that nobody was there.
(He missed Tony)
Despite how the building reminded him of his time at the Avengers’ compound – games, laughter, family – it was also a reminder of everything that was different now.
Where the Avengers’ compound was raucous, this facility was quiet, the only sound being the humming of electricity that ran throughout the building.
Where the Compound was filled with laughter and life, this one was silent and – maybe not quite dead – but hollow.
Steve sighed and stepped into the building, the automated doors sliding shut behind him quietly, cutting off all noises from the outside. The former leader shook his head, trying to get rid of the white noise from the sudden silence. He headed to his room – if it could even be called that, he had a living room and a bedroom – intending to wash off the sweat and grime that covered him.
The moment he stepped past his door, Steve paused. Closing the door behind him silently, he reached out and flicked the light switch, the illumination throwing a black-clad figure into view.
Steve let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, he smirked slightly, “Did you have another falling out with your wife?”
Fury leaned back in the chair, “The Avengers Initiative was created for a group of people who would fight together, not each other.”
The grin on Steve’s lips fell, his good mood vanishing entirely. Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Steve sighed, “Did you come all the way to Wakanda to tell me this? How did you even find me?”
Fury raised an eyebrow, “Don’t kid me Rogers,” the man barked, “Anyone with half a brain can figure out where you are. And yes, I came here to tell you this, why, are you feeling guilty?”
Steve scowled, “Guilty? Why would I feel guilty?”
Fury cocked his head, “Tell me Rogers, was it worth it?”
Steve swallowed. The question was a loaded one, and he wasn’t sure if he was ready to answer it. Licking his lips, he ran through everything that had happened, the fighting, the guilt for leaving his team behind, the guilt for leaving Tony alone in Siberia, but above all the exhilaration at getting Bucky – his best friend – back. The joy he’d felt at the realization that he'd gotten him back, had successfully saved him, never mind the fact that Bucky was back in cryo now – it drowned out any other emotions he felt.
“Yes.” He replied firmly, planting himself solidly like a tree, because Bucky would always be worth it.
“Good.” Fury said, “because if your answer was no, I'd put a bullet in your head. Not that I'm exactly opposed to doing that now.”
“What?” Steve tensed up defensively, his eyes flicking downwards to Fury’s hip involuntarily.
Fury eyed him darkly, his fingers tapping lightly on his thigh, “I didn't spend all that time and effort putting the Avengers together and pissing off the World Security Council just for you lot to break it all apart over a small little thing.”
“Shouldn't you be talking to Stark then?” Steve snapped, “Fury, I don't know if we're talking about the same thing, but the Accords aren't something small, at best, it's a leash that the government wants to put on us. At worst, it's a cage - a collar around the Avengers' necks!”
“It’s interesting Captain,” Fury drawled, “How your first sentence is to blame Stark.”
“What? I didn't – ” The hero stammered.
“Didn't you Captain?” Fury snorted, “Why should I have talked to Stark? Care to enlighten me?”
Steve reddened, and he crossed his arms over his chest, “Stark tore the Avengers apart when he signed that damned Accords –”
Fury barked out a laugh, “Hilarious, the guy who everyone demands accountability from actually agreeing to be accountable. What was Stark thinking?” The man mused.
Steve gritted his teeth, suppressing his anger, “He didn't consult any of us, he signed the damn thing knowing that we'd be like dogs on a leash. I've seen what happens when someone tries to control other people Fury, you’d do well to remember that. It's not pretty.”
“So instead, you choose not to be held accountable for your actions, break the law – several laws in fact – become a fugitive, endanger the lives of those on the team and the lives of civilians, instead of discussing this?” Fury asked.
Steve glared at him, “What's your deal Fury? You of all people should know why I did what I did! The Accords are glorified leashes for the Avengers, all it would have done was make sure that we wouldn’t be sent to where we were needed. What happens if the Avengers are needed and we're not there because some politicians decide that the people aren't worth saving? How was I supposed to discuss anything when Stark had already gone ahead to sign it?”
Fury sighed, “If you had paid attention and actually read the damn book properly, you would have realized that the document needed everybody's signatures in order for it to be amended.”
“They locked the team up in the Raft!” Steve roared, stepping forward, his hands clenching into fists.
“Because you let them!” Fury hissed back, matching his tone, “You broke the goddamn law Rogers, where did you think those on your side were going to end up? A hotel? They were put in the Raft because of your actions in Germany! It wasn’t part of the Accords, but you gave Ross all the reasons he needed to dump them in a supermax prison because you went all out to prove that you were a menace to society –”
“I didn't –” Steve protested.
“You did.” Fury growled. “What did you think would happen when you chased your buddy down a busy road? For everyone to part like the fucking Red Sea? You’re a national icon Rogers, you used your goddamn shield and caused a pile up when you crashed your car – that you stole – into other cars. Those cars had people, civilians in there - did you not think of that? Congratulations Captain, you’ve made the public afraid of you. Because of your little stunt in the tunnels the whole world is now wondering if Captain America is worthy of being a hero. Your name invokes fear because they're wondering if Captain America will beat them to death if they resist him.”
“I couldn't let them take Bucky.” He defended, his hands trembling at his side, tasting bile at the back of his throat.
“And that's what it boils down to isn't it?” Fury grinned, all teeth and no humor, “Everything you did, every action you took, only had one objective: protect Barnes. You didn’t give a damn to what happened to anyone else as long as your best man was safe.”
“No – that's not – I didn't only do it for Bucky!” Steve protested, backing up slightly.
“Didn't you?” Fury challenged, “You and Barnes put a dozen German soldiers in the hospital with critical injuries and another half dozen are in their graves. Was that for the Accords or for Barnes?”
Steve looked away, clenching his jaw, “They were going to shoot him on sight.”
“And that justifies what you did to them?”
“Bucky didn't do anything wrong, he wasn't the one who bombed the UN.” Steve growled stubbornly.
“That would be great – fantastic even – if you had gone to the right people instead of trying to handle it yourself.” The spy growled, “You could have gotten a 24-hour grace period to look for Barnes if you’d gone to the right people. 24 hours at least to prove that he didn't commit the crime. Instead, you ran off half-cocked trying to get your buddy and proved that you needed a fucking leash.”
Steve swallowed audibly but said nothing.
“Tell me Captain," Fury cocked his head, reclining in his seat, "What were you doing for the past five years?”
Steve's forehead marred with confusion at the sudden change in subject, “I – what?”
Fury continued staring at him, unimpressed. Leaning forward, the ex-director of SHIELD asked, “Who sent you on missions? Who gave you bolt holes to clear up as Avengers? Who debriefed you?”
Tensing again, Steve squared his shoulders, a stern look on his face, “That's different Fury, you know it.”
Fury raised an eyebrow, unaffected by Steve’s patented Stare of Disapproval, “Do I? From where I am, I see the same thing. You worked with SHIELD for five years, going on missions that we handed out to you, attending debriefs after every mission. You answered for your actions when casualties happened under your watch. That is accountability Rogers. You are extremely familiar with it.”
“That's different.” Steve insisted, crossing his arms over his chest, “SHIELD wasn't run by people with agendas –”
“Tell me the truth Captain,” Fury interrupted, glaring fiercely at him, showing Steve how much he had earned the title of Director, “Did you reject the Accords because you didn't agree with it, or because Stark did?”
“I –” didn't agree with it, Steve thought. That was the reason why, wasn't it? It couldn't be because Tony had agreed (blindly even) to sign the damn book. He wasn't as petty as that – right?
The hesitation was one second too long, and Fury nodded, seemingly satisfied with his answer. The man stood up in a fluid motion, the action jarring Steve from his thoughts.
“I didn't sign because it was the wrong thing to do.” Steve said firmly, locking eyes with Fury, “I'm not so petty to put the team at risk just because I don't agree with Stark.”
Fury tilted his head, condescension oozing from him, “Do you know, millions of dollars of property damage was racked up at Leipzig.” He stated.
Steve closed his eyes regretfully, “I heard, but we had no choice, Tony wasn't backing down.”
“You could have talked to him, about Zemo.” Fury pointed out.
“There wasn't any time –”
“Don't give me that bullshit Rogers." The spy master growled, "You had time to pick up three extra passengers, all from different places and one from a different time zone. I don't believe that you didn't have time to talk to Stark about your little problem.”
“He wouldn't have believed it!” Steve snapped, hands clenching to fists, “Tony wouldn't have trusted us, why else would he bring us in? Besides,” Steve said bitterly, “the Accords wouldn't have allowed him to help at the time.”
“He wouldn't trust you, or you wouldn't trust him?” Fury shot back.
Steve's breath knocked out of his lungs, his eyes widening at the question.
Fury pressed on unrepentantly, “You say that he wouldn't believe you, but a single offhanded comment about Zemo had him searching for evidence. You say the Accords wouldn't allow him to help you, yet Stark still dropped everything and flew to Siberia in direct defiance of the Accords. Between the airport and the Raft I don’t think he retracted his signature on that document. So, tell me Captain,” the man loomed, his lone eye boring into Steve's sky blue ones, “is it because he didn't trust you, or because you didn't trust him?”
Fury gave the hero an impressive stink eye and swept out of the room, leaving Steve alone with thoughts and emotions that threatened to crush him.
That couldn't be right – he trusted Tony didn't he? He’d fought with the other man many times in battle, they shared several meals together, trained and played together. They were a team – Steve trusted Tony. Right? But no, that didn't seem right either. Steve trusted Iron Man on the field, he trusted Tony Stark with the gear the team used, trusting in the man's engineering capabilities. Steve trusted the man to look after their public image whenever the Avengers made an appearance.
But Steve didn’t trust Tony.
The realization pulled the rug from under his feet, and Steve collapsed against the wall, sliding down until he crumpled to a heap at its base. His face contorted in horror, oh god what had he done? How could he not have realized this? He’d forgiven Wanda for her part in Ultron’s madness, why couldn’t he forgive Tony for his creation of the murderbot? Why was he always so quick to believe the worst of Tony? Sam had said that Tony wouldn’t believe them, but the genius had proven them wrong hadn’t he? He’d heard Steve say nothing more than a truncated sentence – and despite fighting against them, Tony had still found evidence of Bucky’s innocence and came after them to help them. And Steve had repaid that by crushing his shield in Tony’s chest.
Steve pressed a fist to his mouth, his chest aching fiercely.
Tony was right, he didn’t deserve the shield.