Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Undisclosed Location, 2009

"Sloppy," the Major had said, "Absolutely sloppy. Let's run it again. This time with a little more enthusiasm."

Ava ripped her specialized helmet off her head as she struggled to catch her breath, leaning against a support beam to keep herself steady. She didn't know how much more she could take. Between the exhaustion of the training, her cells being torn apart and stitched back together as per usual, and the Major's abuse, she just wanted to curl up in a ball and die right then and there.

"P-Please," Ava begged, her voice trembling in desperation, "No more. Please."

"'Fraid I can't do that, Starr. I have my orders," the Major said, his sneer readily apparent, "Come on, girl. You can do it. Strike me. Make me bleed and then we'll stop."

Ava slowly looked up, dark circles around her vibrant green eyes, her lip bleeding, sweat clinging to her hair as she looked at the Major and wanted nothing more than to pulverize him. Theoretically, she could reach into his torso and pull out every organ while he was still conscious. But even if she could control her phasing, there was nothing she could do. SHIELD were the only ones with the means to cure her. If she acted out now, she may miss her chance at anything resembling normalcy. At making the pain stop.

That's what they promised, didn't they?

The Major continued to sneer at her, his face contorted into a wicked grin, his thin lips stretching to their absolute limit, his soul patch looking mangy and unkempt, his eyes and eyebrows contorted into an almost sadistic rage.

Except for Doctor Foster, she hated everything about SHIELD. But most of all she hated this... man... for lack of a better term. He craved violence, and not just inflicting it on others either. The twisted bastard seemed to get off on pain and suffering, even his own.

Just before the Major was prepared to strike at Ava again, the heavy electronic door to the room opened up and in came the Secretary, dressed to the nines in a grey three-piece as if it did a great enough job concealing his monstrous nature from the world. At least with the Major, Ava could look at evil in the face and know it to be what it is. With the Secretary, it was a different sort of monstrous.

"That'll be enough for today, Major," the Secretary said, hands in his pockets as the Major craned his neck to see Alexander Pierce begin to circle him. The sinister rage in his eyes began to dissipate ever-so-slightly, likely in disappointment at not being able to continue his "sparring" with the young woman before him.

"But we were just getting started, Mr. Secretary," the Major spoke in an almost childlike tone, like he was about to have his toys taken from him, "The youngin here has a long way to go before she goes back to the field again."

"That's why I'm here," Pierce told him, "To see if we can't speed things along. How are we feeling today, Ava?"

Ava said nothing, but looked on at Pierce with apprehension and fear in her eyes.

After a lengthy pause, Pierce quipped, "Well, no need to fall to pieces on us now, your training isn't finished yet for today. That's why I brought in someone who might be a better challenge for you today."

Ava froze. She had heard whispers in the lab before.

About the Secretary's "asset."

About what he did. The bodies he left in his wake.

"Солдат, come meet your next assignment," Pierce spoke into the open doorway, which was nothing but a giant black hole to Ava's eyes. Soon she heard the thud of boots, and then his figure entered the doorframe.

He was tall, muscular, clad in leather body armor. He wore a mask over his lower face, his icy grey eyes shrouded by a mix of copious eyeliner and filthy, shoulder length brown hair. He had a number of firearms and knives on his person, but nothing stood out as much as the silver-finish titanium arm and the crimson red star on the shoulder.

"Oh, now this... this should be fun," the Major said with a wicked grin as he backed away from the center of the training area, making room for the Winter Soldier.

Ava's breath picked up in terror, her heart beating uncontrollably as the Winter Soldier looked her dead in the eyes, devoid of all emotion and feeling. In that moment she forgot all about her exhaustion and, surprisingly, her pain. Not even being torn apart at the molecular level at every waking moment compared to the absolute panic she experienced now.

"Agent Starr," Pierce began, "You will have 30 seconds to either take one of your opponents weapons or to draw first blood. Солдат, if Agent Starr does neither in the allotted time... well, you know the drill."

Ava continued to stare into the Winter Soldier's eyes, too riddled with fear to even attempt looking away. But in that moment, she thought she detected something in his expression, blocked off by heavy concealment and a stoic, unflinching demeanor as it was.

She thought she saw the faintest hints of pity. Of remorse. Of an urge to come out and declare "I don't really want to hurt you."

The Major loved pain, he thrived off of it. But the Winter Soldier, fearsome though he was, didn't appear to do the same.

"Ready to comply?" Pierce asked the assassin.

Ava quickly scrambled and fixed her helmet back on, a whirring sound starting as it locked into place. She tried to prepare herself for the fight to come. It may well be her last.

"Ready to comply," the Winter Soldier responded.

When they had entered the Void to find Yelena and Bob, they had expected to go through Hell together. As it turned out, they got separated for a time, each one in their own personal Hells they had made for themselves before eventually linking up with each other. Sure, they would go and save the day, save Bob from the worst of himself, save the city from falling into darkness, and even get some (rather unexpected) redemption in they eyes of the public thanks to Valentina's efforts to try and cover her own ass when she deserved prison and more. Alexei would be ecstatic about the marketing possibilities of it all.

But they first had to go through Hell once more.

When Bucky went in he expected he would see memories of himself as the Winter Soldier. God damn John Walker for being right about something for once. But what he failed to mention isn't that what was experienced in the Void wasn't one's own worst memories. Bucky had plenty of those and more.

No, the Void wanted to shame them, to make them all re-experience their worst regrets. Choices they had consciously made.

Before today, Bucky thought he remembered everything that had been done while under Hydra's mind control, and separated it from what he knew to be the choices of James Buchanan Barnes.

That all changed when, after pushing through some of the most painful experiences of his life, the very last one he encountered was one he shared with someone else.

In that moment, the Ava Starr of the present had finished through her own labyrinth of regret, pain on her face like he hadn't seen before.

Well, that wasn't necessarily true. He had seen it one other time. In the scene before the pair of them now, back when she was nineteen and scared and he was a programmed killing machine.

As the Bucky and Ava of yesteryear began to fight in front of them, the Bucky and Ava of now could do nothing but gaze into each other's eyes, searching for answers, wondering whose Shame Room this really was, and what it all meant.

They said nothing of it.

Once they had rescued Yelena and Bob, they still never spoke of it.

Just another regret in two lives full of them.

Chapter Text

The Watchtower, 2027

Congressman Barnes had spent the better part of the day - or rather, the better part of the week - locked inside his office, plugging away at his laptop. Admittedly, he was always a slow typer, an attribute that neither enhanced abilities nor living in the 21st Century could help overcome. Bucky assumed growing up in the era of typewriters and ink ribbons had something to do with it, and he never quite made the shift. More than once he had heard Yelena describe his tech-literacy (or lack thereof) as part of some "boomer mentality," which the fact that Bucky didn't understand what it meant at the time only added to Yelena's amusement and Bucky's embarrassment.

A quick Google search had revealed she was just yanking his chain. Not only was he technically of the "Greatest Generation," but Bucky never claimed to be averse to learning or trying new things, which included computer literacy. Still it elicited the occasional "Okay Boomer" quips from Yelena that caused the others to laugh when present. Bob tried his best to avoid making jokes at others' expense, but bless his heart if he didn't find it amusing.

At any rate, Bucky had finished typing up the draft for his proposed bill. The House of Representatives was set to meet in two days time, and Bucky, who realized with the prospect of co-leading his own Avengers team (he was still confused on what exactly had happened there) and the rather lukewarm public reception they were all getting (which he could totally understand) that his political career might just have ground to a complete halt, wanted to do at least one good thing during his term of office.

Even if his enthusiasm for his Congressional role had dwindled long before this point, Valentina had pretty much annihilated it. At least this way he didn't have to worry about any reelection campaign and could focus all his efforts on the work instead. He wasn't sure if his Brooklyn constituency would even come out and support him again like they had, but that could change. Still, Bucky wasn't holding his breath.

The bill itself was a bit of a package deal, in this case having to do primarily with federal funding for mental health services along with some rider provisions for enhanced individuals; the Void had been something of a wake-up call. Now while Bucky was a lot more apathetic to his office than when he had started, he made sure to do his homework before going into this because of his personal attachment to it, and didn't want it killed before it even went into committee. So, in the time between missions and PR work with the team, Bucky committed himself to studying past legislation and made sure everything he put in abided by the Constitution and wouldn't trigger too much partisan pushback from either side and die in committee.

It was about as boring and tiresome as one might expect.

Speaking of tired, once Bucky had emailed his draft to his aides in DC who would give it a once-over before the next session, he closed his laptop, breathed a sigh of relief, and looked at his desk, noticing the takeout containers, disposable coffee cups, and law books that cluttered it. Like mentioned before, he had been at this for the better part of a week, only really leaving his office to sleep or grab a bite to eat or go for runs in the early morning to clear his head, the latter becoming increasingly hard to do with the number of paparazzi constantly gathered on the street below the Watchtower.

If it was an annoyance to him, Bucky could only wonder how the rest of the team were taking it.

Actually, scratch that. He knew that Alexei was enjoying every minute of it. It didn't matter if it was an arms smuggling ring they were breaking up or that stupid Wheaties promotion thing he insisted that they do, Alexei was always the glory-hound and always wanted to be the first to speak to reporters and camera crews.

Bucky remembers that when Steve came out of the ice, his promotions were severely limited compared to the war. He did a few public appearances with President Ellis and made some PSA videos for high school kids or something like that, but apart from that the original Avengers mainly stayed out of the public eye. Tony Stark was the real glory-hound then and was constantly doing fundraisers and speeches and merchandise through his company. But now? In the three months the New Avengers had been a public team, there had been more PR work and magazine appearances showing them off than Walker had in his entire short-lived stint as Captain America, and there was a lot of that.

He didn't even have to guess. He knew Valentina was behind all of it, using the PR coverage of the team as a way to save her own ass from impeachment proceedings that, regrettably, had stalled indefinitely. Alexei had made a comment about still wanting to kill her that day with the Void, which was immediately superseded by his excitement at getting a chance to play Avenger, so he wasn't really a help there.

Bucky stood up from his desk, feeling an ache in his joints from sitting too long, and wondered briefly if his age was finally catching up to him. He was 110 this year after all; 105 if you didn't count the five years he'd been turned to dust by Thanos. He took a moment to walk over to his office window and observed the sight before him. The sun was beginning to set over the city, and the lights were beginning to go on in the windows of the skyscrapers and apartment buildings. Bucky had noticed that there were perhaps more lights on than usual for this time of day, and Bucky surmised this was a natural reaction to a city that was just recently consumed with Bob's depression - literally. It would take some time for the city to heal from the emotional scars, but fortunately not a single person had died that day so Bucky considered that a win.

But this new responsibility? His own Avengers team that he and Yelena were responsible for? He didn't know what to think.

Bucky pulled his phone from his pocket and checked if there were any messages for him. He had gotten many from people he knew in DC, a few reporters asking for one-on-one interviews, and a couple from Mel that he immediately put into junk without reading. If Val had business with the team she wanted to discuss, she could either come herself or have someone else make contact. Mel had proven that she could not be trusted.

One thing that did make Bucky smile was receiving a text from Sarah. There were no words, but a short video of AJ and Cass playing in their yard, AJ with his own toy Captain America shield, and Cass wearing his own Winter Soldier shirt with custom sleeves meant to look, peculiarly, like the titanium arm he had while under Hydra's control. And while he found that bit unsettling, and also the idea of the boys recreating a rather unpleasant memory of the times he fought Steve, Bucky couldn't help but smile as the two played in their yard with such enthusiasm.

There was a time when he wanted something like that for himself. Family. Stability. An opportunity to stop fighting. He thought he'd found his niche in Congress but ultimately he discovered he was drawn right back into the fight because it was less boring than reading packets. And now, here he was, "King Avenger" for as long as this thing would last.

Bucky typed a quick text in response.

Looks like someone's having a great time! :)

He still didn't quite get the whole emoji concept so he didn't really bother with it. Sarah responded back with a heart emoji anyway.

Bucky took another moment to appreciate this and the video. He knew this was just an icebreaker to a conversation they were both going to have.

His phone chimed. Sarah asked "Has he reached out to you lately?"

Bucky did not respond immediately. He hasn't received one call, text, email, or even so much as a damned postal delivery from Sam since this whole thing went down. And he could not blame him one bit.

Not yet, no.

Bucky waited a few moments before Sarah responded back again, "Have you tried reaching out to him?"

He didn't respond immediately to that one either. He backed out of the conversation for a moment, went over into his call history, and saw all the calls he had made out to Sam, all of them missed or failed. Again, Sam had not made contact once.

A few times, yeah.

Sarah responded, "I know what's going on with your life is complicated, and I think my idiot brother understands that too. I also understand why he's been silent. But you are his friend, soon enough the two of you will come around."

Bucky scoffed to himself. "When" is the question he'd like answered.

We'll see what happens. Hope you're having a good evening. Tell the boys that Uncle Buck says hello.

With that, he closed his phone, and looked out over the city again. Darkness was falling fast, and Bucky's mind raced back to the Void. He had played it off for the sake of the mission, but now memories he thought he'd put to bed were coming back up again. And not the ones he'd been expecting. And on top of all of this, the one person he'd want to share all of this with doesn't want to talk to him about it.

Yelena had made it clear after their whole experience in the Void that everyone keeping their shit to themselves wasn't going to solve anything, especially now that they were public heroes that had to manage publicity, Valentina, and actually doing the job of protecting the world, and it would be much harder for them to do their jobs if they couldn't deal with their issues up front. Bob had been the most extreme example of this, but it could just as easily happen to any and all of them even without godlike superpowers.

But Bucky didn't know these people, not really. He had already known Walker prior to all this but the circumstances were wholly different, and he wasn't about to have a sitdown with the guy's massive ego and listen to him offload his problems like he was the only guy in the world who experienced them.

Alexei was fine he supposed, but Bucky knew how full of himself the guy was. He was like Walker but in the other direction, boundless enthusiasm for every little thing and wanting the Red Guardian to always be seen as the hero in every situation. At least Walker had restraint, and even now seemed more hesitant about public appearances than Bucky would've guessed.

Yelena had her own problems she was working through, but she primarily did it with Bob. He had had a stronger effect on her state of mind than any of the others, and Bob himself was a hot mess just waiting to explode again. But Yelena insisted that whatever they had, they work through it together. She was quite protective of him, never really wanting him to be out of her sight for too long. It made one-on-one with either of them rather difficult, since they were all but joined at the hip. Sure, she and Bucky communicated great enough as co-leaders of the team, but it was hard to get a read on her. She was Natasha's sister and a more than capable fighter and leader, but that was pretty much it.

And as for Ava...

Bucky didn't know what he thought about her. Not really. There were perhaps the least obstacles standing between their communicating, but he hardly ever saw her or spoke to her in private. In groups, yes, but never alone.

And to this day neither of them have addressed what they saw in the Void together, or what it all meant. He certainly remembered what had happened years ago, how their first encounter had been while he was still the Winter Soldier and she was just a kid. It wouldn't be their last encounter while SHIELD and Hydra still existed either, and certainly not the most painful one, but it was that very first meeting that came up.

Bucky first assumed it was a "nexus point" of sorts, a shared memory that allowed Bucky and Ava to link up so they could continue on, find Walker and Alexei, and head on to save Yelena and Bob. Hell, when they encountered Walker, they had seen one of his many Shame Rooms had been when he had had his ass handed to him by Bucky and Sam, had his arm broken, and the shield taken away from him. But that wasn't exactly any "shame" on Bucky's end, and to his understanding that's how the Void works. As he also recalls, when the three of them found Alexei, there was nothing connecting any of them to the memory of the airstrip in Cuba, where he could do nothing but watch his past self cozying up to Dreykov as his daughters were taken away to be tortured and experimented on by the Red Room.

No, the memory of his first encounter with Ava Starr was a mystery both to him and her. He didn't know if that particular Shame Room was supposed to be his memory she had stumbled into, or if it was her memory he had stumbled into. But if it was Ava's memory, then what did she have to be ashamed of? She was just a kid, turned into a weapon by SHIELD (most likely Hydra because of Pierce's direct involvement), forced to defend herself from the mindless juggernaut that was the Winter Soldier. Shame would imply she felt guilty about the encounter, which Bucky didn't understand. If it was his own memory, he didn't understand why that was something he felt particular guilt or shame for, given that very few of his rooms had been of the Winter Soldier anyway much to his surprise.

All he knew is that there had to have been something more to it. Apart from their encounters, he knew her file and her past. About the ops she'd been sent on and the pain she endured. But the same could be said for countless others as slaves to Hydra, only difference was in her case she was never brainwashed. Could it just have been their meeting up that triggered the memory? Something he'd kept in the back of his mind between blowing up Alexei's limo and entering the Void? Or was the Void trying to tell them something else?

Bucky felt a wave of tired come over him. Despite his claims to Alexei that he didn't get tired, he still could, especially after taxing his mind so long and hard on so many different stressors. Congress, Valentina, Sam, this team, his own demons that he thought he put to bed, and this thing with Ava that's been bothering him for the longest time.

God, I need a drink.

Bucky then went over to the bookshelf behind his desk, grabbed his copy of The Hobbit that he bought a couple weeks back but hadn't started reading yet, then exited his office to head over into the common area. If John and Alexei hadn't yet polished off the bar, he'd help himself to a double of Blanton's if he could.

He saw the team spread out across the common area, but the first person his eyes met was Ava, and the intrusive thoughts came back in.

Bucky then quickly hurried over to the bar and poured himself a triple of Blanton's instead.

Chapter Text

"Do you still remember how we used to be? Feelin' together, believin' whatever, my love has said to me..."

Ava stared up blankly at the high ceiling - much too high for her liking, and didn't understand why this was the case. Had this been Stark's room so he could fly around in it, or was this part of Valentina's renovations, or...?

Anyway it doesn't much matter, main point being Ava found herself lying on top of her bed, staring into nothingness, and exhausting the length of her Spotify playlist as she let the Spice Girls play on repeat until her phone battery died.

The shades to her room were open, but very little light was seeping into the room anyway, especially now that it was evening. The walls were sterile and devoid of any real sort of decoration. It felt impersonal, brutalist, in other words quite familiar to Ava.

Not that she had many personal effects to begin with, but even if she did Ava had no idea where she would begin or what she would do about livening up the room. Maybe she would just go wild with it, like painting the walls purple or adding as many potted plants as she wished until the room became cluttered with them.

In any case Ava was sorely tempted to do it just to deliberately waste as much of Valentina's money as possible, that bitch.

" Viva forever, I'll be waiting, everlasting, like the sun, Live forever, for the moment, Ever searching-"

The music suddenly cut off. Furrowing her brow, Ava sat up and saw that her phone which was laying on her nightstand had finally run out of juice. She could plug it back in and continue if she really wanted to, but... she really didn't.

Sighing, Ava pulled the AirPods out of her ears and set them on the nightstand, then bent forward and switched her bedside lamp on.

In the corner of the room were her Ghost suits set atop of mannequins inside glass chambers. The first was her "New Avengers" suit, pretty much the same as her last one but with more black leather accents and appropriately-placed Avengers logos. The previous suit, more fabric than leather and utterly logo-less, was right next to it. Without the masks on either of them they looked acceptable enough for her room. With the masks they would probably be sleep-paralysis demons, and Ava was too much of an insomniac as it was to chance it.

Apart from that she had a closet and wardrobe filled with regular clothes, a desk with a computer, a small bookshelf, and a couple of boxes housing what few things she actually owned she had so far refused to decorate her room with. Laziness was not the cause, Ava could set everything up in a flash if she wished to. Thing is, she wasn't ready to do so yet.

Yelena's voice was in the back of her head. Unpack your shit, she'd say a few times a week. Though genuinely Ava was wondering if Yelena had being literal about unpacking the boxes in her room, or if she was being metaphorical again.

She wasn't ready for that either.

What she was ready for was a change in scenery.

Ava quickly got up out of bed, pulled a navy jumper on over her T-Shirt as it had become drafty (how had she not felt the cold before getting up?), and exited her bedroom to see what the others were up to. Not that she really felt up to any social interaction - the thought of such a gigantic leap was more terrifying than she'd care to admit - but she needed the distraction if only to take her mind off of... well, everything really.

Some things more than others.

In the common area, she saw John sitting on one of the leather recliners in front of the giant flatscreen TV, only he wasn't watching anything. He sat with his legs elevated while fixedly reading a biography on Abraham Lincoln of all things. Ava doesn't know exactly what interested him in that, since she didn't have the patience for reading biographies to begin with, but if it kept him out of her hair she was grateful.

Alexei, however, was sitting on the floor right in front of the TV. At first Ava thought he would be watching either American football or trying to find any new broadcasts about the team. Instead, however, it looked like he was playing a video game of some kind. Bob and John had told Alexei about Fallout: New Vegas about two weeks ago and it seems Alexei had gotten himself hooked.

"Need to find stupid parts for ghoul space shuttle..." Alexei muttered under his breath. Ava blinked.

Over at the circular kitchen table sat Yelena, with that guinea pig of hers perched on her shoulder like a parrot. Bob was sitting across from her - sitting closer than friends should be, Ava thought - and they looked embroiled in a card game of some kind. This caused Ava to have a moment of alarm, because given Bob's history of addiction that the last thing he should be doing is gamb-

"Got any fives?" Bob asked somewhat timidly.

"Go fish," Yelena replied, her voice carrying an air of boredom.

Ava's concern disappeared in a flash, and she exhaled with relief. It was just a simple card game, the only object being fun, though from the look of Yelena just now it seems she'd rather be doing anything else. But she continued to play with determination, even if there wasn't much skill involved, and Ava was almost certain this was Bob's idea on their spending time together.

Which was absolutely fine. And good that it wasn't anything addiction-forming like gambling. Anything that would keep Bob happy and not trigger the Void was a win in Ava's book.

She really, really did not want to see it again.

With everyone preoccupied, Ava navigated her way through the room to the kitchen without the pressure of having to talk to anybody. Alexei had a pot of borscht simmering on the stove, which admittedly smelled delicious to Ava, but then again she remembered the incident last month with the beef stroganoff and decided it was best to wait for someone braver than her to try Alexei's cooking first. Walker could. Yeah, she'd let Walker have a go of it first.

Ava opened the fridge and pulled out a bottle of Corona. Twisting the cap off, she leaned against the kitchen island and looked on over at the TV screen. Alexei was still playing his game, wandering endlessly through the desert trying to collect bits of scrap, when suddenly the game appeared to freeze.

"Chyort!" Alexei cursed loudly, causing Yelena and Bob to jump in the middle of their card game and Ava to spill some of her beer on the island. Walker, meanwhile, seemed unbothered by Alexei's sudden outburst and continued to read his book.

"Game crashed in middle of quest! Now I lose progress!" Alexei whined.

"Told you to do the PC version with mods installed," John said in a flat tone, his gaze not leaving the pages, "The console one always crashes."

Alexei craned his neck to look at John, "Controller makes more sense, it has little sticks and not many buttons! It would take me too long to learn keyboard!"

"There's a learning curve to everything, Alexei," John responded, already tired of this conversation.

"There's little triggers on controller, makes it like I'm firing Big Iron on hip!" Alexei started talking at John again, seemingly ignorant of the fact that John would rather be doing anything else than talk to him right now.

There were a few more moments of console versus PC before Yelena chimed in "Jesus Christ, you're both children! Put on the sports channel or something because I'm tired of hearing it!"

Alexei begrudgingly accepted, and turned the cable on and started flipping through channels. John still did not look up from his book. Yelena and Bob resumed their card game.

Ava continued to stand at the counter in silence, occasionally sipping her drink and content to watch the others' bicker amongst themselves. She prefers it this way. Not that she disliked anyone (except maybe Walker but even he was growing on her), but Ava never really felt comfortable in groups. She could easily blame her "upbringing" with SHIELD for this but this was something she'd felt ever since she was a kid, long before the accident. With her father's work she never really stayed in one place for too long to ever really form any friendships.

Ava had been most comfortable when spending time with her parents. Listening to her mother's soothing voice when reading to her, her father's encouragement when they'd play board games together, those moments of bliss from before the pain and torment that was to be the rest of her life.

Admittedly, in the years since her condition had been "improved" and she could no longer feel physical pain, thoughts of her parents became few and far between. Her work with Valentina had taken up most of her focus, though Ava knows she can only blame herself for that and the damage it caused.

She never paid it much thought until just recently when the Void smacked her in the face with all she regretted most. Some were from long ago... and others much more recent.

Ava closed her eyes and breathed sharply. She knows why she's feeling this way, and why it's visibly affecting her more now than in the past three months.

This week will have marked two years.

Two years since she burned bridges with-

"Oh! Hi, Ava," chimed Bob's voice. Ava's eyes snapped open in surprise to find Bob waving at her from the table he and Yelena were occupied at. Yelena, Alexei, and John all looked up from what they were doing and stared at her, which made Ava more than a bit uncomfortable. Bob looked to be in a good mood at the moment, and Ava was conflicted whether to be pleased he was doing better or to be jealous over it.

"Hi, Bob," Ava responded flatly, though she was now afraid she came across as too cold. Bob seemed to pay no mind and responded with, "Didn't hear you come in, you don't have to go invisible around us."

"I... didn't," Ava responded, a bit embarrassed that that's what he thought. She didn't want to talk with anyone anyway, but the implication she was deliberately avoiding them using her powers upset her more than she cared to admit, especially with all eyes on her.

Bob's cheeks suddenly went pink with his own embarrassment and said, "Oh, um, sorry, I didn't mean to... to assume."

"It's nothing," Ava said, "Didn't want to bother anyone anyway, you all looked like you were... busy."

"Never too busy to spend quality time with team!" exclaimed Alexei, picking himself off the floor and sauntering over to the table where Yelena and Bob were sitting, placing himself on a chair between the pair of them with an audible thud, "We will play Durak!"

Yelena rolled her eyes, "No, we're not playing Durak again, Dad. This would be the fifth time this month."

"I- I don't know how to play anyway," Bob piped up, but Alexei ignored him.

"You're right of course," Alexei spoke to Yelena, "I have had too much ownership of card games in Watchtower. Let us share ownership like in Motherland. Ava, tonight you pick game!"

Ava blinked and then her anxiety shot up again, "Oh. Oh, I- wouldn't know what to pick, I haven't played in so long, and-"

"It will be fun time!" Alexei spoke up. Ava turned her attention to Yelena, silently begging for help, but Yelena just shrugged as she gave pets to the guinea pig on her shoulder still. Bob just sat there quietly twiddling his thumbs. Walker had gone back to reading his book, and Ava wanted to whack him on the head with it.

Succumbing to peer pressure, Ava said, "Well, there is one game I know. Used to play it with my dad from before- well, before. Anyone familiar with Battle?"

"Of course!" Alexei replied, "I have seen many battles, for Russia and with New Avengers-"

"Battle is a card game, Dad," Yelena facepalmed.

"They call it War here in the States, its a children's game," John chimed in bluntly, which only served to irritate Ava further.

"And I suppose you'd know all about that, wouldn't you Walker?" Ava responded with bitter sarcasm, "Maybe you'd like to come and demonstrate for the rest of us."

"Thanks but I'll pass," Walker responded, unbothered, as he continued to read his book.

"Can we play now?" Yelena raised her voice, already tired of the bickering. Ava grabbed her Corona and sauntered over from the kitchen to the table, and Yelena handed her the deck of cards they were playing with.

"Okay," Ava began distributing the cards evenly between herself, Yelena, Alexei, and Bob, "for those who don't already know, the goal is to win all the cards. We all go at the same time and whoever has the highest card value wins the hand, and this goes on until only one person has cards left."

Alexei and Bob responded with enthusiasm, and Yelena gave a smile of encouragement. As they played, Alexei was happy he seemed to be winning hand after hand, making exclamations of his "skill," but the game required no skill whatsoever and the outcome was entirely determined on how the cards were shuffled.

This continued for some time before Bob spoke up, saying, "We should do this more often. Spending time together like this."

As uncomfortable as Ava generally was in groups, this made her feel just a bit better. Bob had that effect on people.

"Would be nicer if it was all of us together," Yelena grumbled, "Captain Dipshit over there with his nose stuck in a book-"

"I heard that!" John called out, louder than he'd been the whole evening, but he was ignored.

"-and the Honorable Representative from Brooklyn locked in his ivory tower re-penning the Magna Carta or something," Yelena finished, "Speaking of, has anyone actually seen him at all this week? Saw him go out for a run the other day but not much else."

"Caught him in kitchen two nights ago eating the strawberry ice cream," Alexei said, "Made mess all over counter."

"Did a short sparring session with him on Wednesday, didn't say much," John offered.

"Saw him come out of the shower," Bob began, but then his cheeks went red again and he stammered, "N-Not- not like in a weird way or anything, just that he... had. I mean, he was covered... dressed!"

Ava blushed at that last bit for whatever reason, though not out of embarrassment.

"Ava?" Yelena asked after a beat, "How about you?"

"Uh..." Ava began, forgetting for a moment what was being asked. Her mouth suddenly felt dry. She glanced at her Corona only to find the bottle was empty.

"You see Bucky at all this week?" Yelena asked, to which Ava could only say, "Can't say that I have, no."

Which is true, Ava hasn't seen Bucky at all this week. Granted, she wouldn't have anyway since she hadn't ventured far outside her room much this week either, but everyone else understood this was par for the course with her.

What Ava chose not to say is that she had certainly heard Bucky a few nights back. She had made the regrettable decision to grab a glass of water at three in the morning and on the way back to her room she heard what sounded like muffled cries coming from his bedroom.

She remembers how much of a coward she felt like after not checking in with him, so caught up in her own shit as she was. Wouldn't be the first time she let someone else down.

Fate has a funny way of working out sometimes, since at that moment while Ava was lost in thought over what she should or shouldn't have done, the echoes of heavy footsteps sound from down the hall, and everyone looks over to see Bucky enter the common area, book in hand and seemingly drained of energy.

Ava makes another mistake of looking in his direction because the moment she does, his eyes are locked on hers and hers alone. The others didn't catch this, but for the two of them their gazes remained fixed for another moment. What was it with the two of them and gazing? They were like cats looking at their reflections in the mirror, endlessly puzzled and for seemingly no reason.

But Ava knew why. It was the thing they still had not talked about. The thing they had not shared with anyone despite Yelena's insistence that everyone should. That quiet little guilt they kept bottled up even if they knew that it was just going to continue making things more awkward between the two.

Bucky was the first to break eye contact, then he quickly hurried over to the bar and poured himself a bourbon. Ava couldn't help but feel self-conscious and think somehow it was her fault Bucky seemed distressed.

Silence hung in the air for several moments. Bucky hadn't said anything to anyone as he swallowed the bourbon down in one large gulp. You could cut the tension with one of Yelena's knives. Ava was praying somebody, anybody would break it.

"Ah, so the caveman emerges at last," John began as he looked over at Bucky. Ava was going to get him something very nice.

"Hello to you too, Walker," Bucky says, then decides to top off his bourbon again before plopping himself down on one of the leather chairs in front of the TV. He opened his copy of The Hobbit and continued from where he'd left off.

Ava didn't realize how long she'd been staring in his direction until Yelena's fingers snapped in front of her face.

"Helloooooo, Earth to Ava, do you wanna keep going?" Yelena asked, referring to the card game.

Ava cleared her throat, becoming aware of her surroundings again, and said, "Actually I was thinking of getting something a bit stronger to drink just now."

She raised her empty beer bottle to illustrate her point, and Yelena seemed to understand, though she could definitely tell the former Black Widow suspected something. If she didn't, she'd be a shit Widow.

Ava then quickly got up from the table they were all sat at, went over to the bar, and considered having some of the Blanton's that Bucky was currently having, then remembered she wasn't even the biggest bourbon fan and opted for tequila instead. She quickly downed a shot before looking over at the TV again, pretending to be interested in the ongoing football match all the while barely resisting the urge to see what Bucky was up to now that he seemed to crawl out of his hole at long last.

"The Hobbit? That's your go-to?" Walker had asked, looking up from his book over at Bucky, who just glared at him.

"Hey, no judgments, I like Tolkien too," Walker raised his hands in defense, "I just never really took you for a fantasy kinda guy."

Ava was reconsidering her position on getting something nice for Walker, but it was early still.

Bucky didn't respond to Walker's comments, but did say "More Lincoln, huh? I don't get it, you're always reading Lincoln. Why's that?"

Walker rolled his eyes and slammed his book shut, seemingly for the first time in recent memory. Ava saw the faintest hints of a grin on Bucky's face.

"Look, I know you guys all hate me, and maybe you're not entirely wrong for that either. Hell, I hate me," Walker started, "But if there's one thing I will not tolerate, it's Abraham Lincoln slander."

"I didn't slander Lincoln," Bucky said, "I wanted to know what your whole obsession was. You're always quoting him, talking about strategies he had-"

"Okay, you're the last person on Earth who should be making judgments about that, James Buchanan Barnes," Walker emphasized as he cut him off. Bucky was stunned. Yelena let out an audible whistle. Everyone else's jaws dropped, including Ava's. Much as anyone would hate to admit it, John had him there.

Bucky closed his book rather forcefully, grabbed the remote, then started flipping through the channels until he settled on the evening news.

"... will convene for the first time since the incident that took place in New York City three months ago. It is unknown at this time what legislation will be proposed at this next meeting of Congress, but many are speculating that the topic of enhanced individuals and the reemergence of the Avengers will be at the forefront. There is speculation that Congressman James "Bucky" Barnes of Brooklyn, New York, now the co-leader of the Avengers, will make an appearance and shed light on the next generation of Earth's Mightiest Heroes, in spite of controversies surrounding their association with CIA Director Valentina Allegra de Fontaine-"

Bucky changed the channel instantly and audibly sighed. He ran his vibranium fingers through his hair. Ava was caught between speaking up from where she was or going over to try and help, so naturally she did the only sensible thing and took another shot of tequila.

"So..." John began, his tone more sober than had been previously, "you'll be heading for DC then?"

"Yeah, tomorrow morning," Bucky said, polishing off his second drink of Blanton's, which even at rate he was going only had as much effect as a nip given his enhanced abilities, "I'll probably be down there for about a week or so, at least until I can get this bill off the ground."

"A week is a while," Walker said, "What if something comes up while that's going on?"

"Then I'll be on the first plane back to New York," Bucky said, standing up and walking back towards his room, "Hi guys, sorry to cut my visit short, just needed a nightcap before getting on the road tomorrow."

"You're driving down to DC?" Ava spoke up before she realized she had said it. What was up with her tonight? It's like her mind was in another realm - though technically it has been but that's beside the point. Maybe it was the tequila.

Bucky turned his head to look at Ava, still standing behind the bar, and he hit her with that Winter Soldier gaze of his again. Was that something he could turn on and off or was that just his default expression?

"I mean... as opposed to flying, that is," Ava tried to save face.

"I- uh..." Bucky stammered as he made his way closer to the bar, "I have some stuff that I wanted to pick up at my place outside the city, figured it would be easier to pack it in a truck than pay for airfare."

"Ah, I see," Ava said, and before she knew it Bucky was standing at the bar just across from her.

That unspoken thing was ever present, but for the moment Ava couldn't remember what that thing was.

"I... should get packing," Bucky said rather awkwardly, gesturing back towards his room. As he began to turn away, Ava suddenly asked, "Bucky?"

Bucky froze and refocused on her.

"Do you think it would be too much to ask if... I tagged along with you?" Ava asked with a hint of timidness to her voice.

"To DC?" Bucky asked, less in surprise and more just to reassure himself he understood her, "What's down there?"

Ava's face went pale for a second, and if she had a mirror then she'd probably say she did look like a ghost after all.

"Oh, a lot of things. I've always wanted to visit the Smithsonian, haven't really had a chance. Check out some of the monuments-" Ava began, but Bucky interrupted.

"Not really much of a place to look at after the 'incident' with the former President," Bucky stated, leaning against the counter and closer to her. While the words seemed interrogative, his tone suggested curiosity why Ava would want to go to DC and why she would lie about it.

She wasn't lying about wanting to see the Smithsonian, but she did have another reason she wanted to venture down there. Last time she was in DC was two years ago this very week, and something very bad had happened.

This was the incident the Void had placed back into her mind after spending too long trying to forget it.

She doesn't know what suddenly gave her the courage, whether that meant speaking to Bucky one-on-one finally or deciding to confront a part of her past she tried so hard to forget. All Ava knew is that she now had the opportunity to try and make things right.

Even if a part of her doubted there was any chance of that.

"I have personal business to see to," Ava confessed to Bucky, "There's an old friend I need to visit."

Bucky's face betrayed no emotion, but he did seem to nod with a solemn understanding of what she was talking about. Again, the unspoken connection.

"Alright," Bucky said finally, "We leave at eight o'clock. Have everything you need ready to go by then. Bring about a week's worth of stuff just in case."

With that, Bucky leaned back and said, "Goodnight, Ava," then went back to his room and closed the door.

Ava poured herself another shot of tequila, but before she could drink it, Yelena came up to the bar holding her guinea pig in her hands.

"Could I get one of those?" Yelena asked, and Ava obliged by pulling another shot glass from behind the bar. Yelena then picked up the tequila bottle and poured shots for the both of them.

"Za zdarov'ye," Yelena said, and she and Ava raised their shots and drank them down.

"So... you and Barnes on a road trip together," a smile played at Yelena's lips, "How does that work out?"

Ava seemed puzzled, "We have mutual business in DC, only makes sense we travel together."

Yelena giggled, then said "This is the first time you've really spent alone with any of us, don't you see?"

"I'm sorry, no," Ava was on the fence between confused and irritated, "Your Russian brain is going places my English brain can hardly comprehend."

"Oh, Ava Starr, you amuse me," Yelena said, "Well, if you should happen to get into a tight spot with Barnes, let me know."

"Not sure what tight spots we'd encounter but I'll keep it in mind," Ava said, before walking out from behind the bar back towards her room. Her cheeks felt warm and rosy, and didn't know if she was that embarrassed or if it was the alcohol kicking in.

"Oh Ava, before you go," Yelena began, and Ava turned to face her, "Have you finished unpacking your shit yet?"

Ava bit her tongue down to keep herself from letting loose and screaming.

"I'm working on it," Ava replied, and with that, she went back to her room without so much as a goodnight for anyone else, locked the door, and buried her face into her pillow before letting darkness consume her.

Chapter Text

The nightmare is the same as it has been. A large furnace filled with evidence of inhumane experiments. A bunch of lowlifes and assassins trying to kill each other for nothing. A white mask, a sword, a shield, approaching her.

An apparition. A gunshot. A smoking hole in the white mask. A body on the floor, soon to be looted and incinerated and desecrated and forgotten.

The scene repeats itself, again and again, much like it had in the Void. There had been an escape then, but there was no escape from herself.

Over and over, Antonia Dreykov is shot in the head, dead before she even hit the ground. A simple job, entirely routine, all without remorse and didn’t even require a second thought at the time. 

But Ava had had plenty of time to think about it afterwards. And she couldn’t do a goddamn thing about it.

Another gunshot. 

Then another. 

Another.

Another.

Ano-

A loud banging noise at her door is enough to bring Ava out of her restless slumber. Her surprise is quickly tempered at the relief of being taken out of that nightmare. She lifts her head from her soaked pillow, cold sweat clinging to her skin and hair, and starts breathing deeply trying to calm herself.

“Ava, are you awake?” Bucky’s muffled voice sounds through the door.

“Yes,” Ava responds weakly, before clearing her throat and repeating, “Yes!”

“Alright, you almost ready? It’s twenty of eight and we need to get going soon if we’re gonna beat the morning traffic,” Bucky tells her.

Ava’s eyes go wide. She had completely forgotten. How could she forget? She was the one that asked Bucky if she could tag along in the first place.

She quickly grabbed her phone on her nightstand to check the time, only to realize that she never recharged the battery after it had died the previous evening, and thus didn’t even set her alarm.

“Oh shit,” she mutters under her breath, then calls out, “Yes, I’m almost done! I’ll meet you in the garage!”

Ava doesn’t wait for Bucky to respond before she rushes out of bed and scrambles to locate a suitcase, then starts piling clothes into it without folding them properly or checking to see if any of them match. She could sort and iron them out later, there was no time to waste right now.

Ava was in such a rush she phased right through her bedroom wall and made a beeline towards the showers. Why couldn’t Valentina’s renovations include personal showers? Why did they have to have a communal shower like some college dorm? 

Phasing through two more walls, she finally came into the showers and had the immense displeasure of seeing Alexei Shostakov as God had made him as he was drying off with a towel.

At this moment Ava was beyond grateful to have the powers she did and quickly made herself go invisible before Alexei could spot her, squeezing her eyes shut as tight as possible.

“Skvoz grózy siyálo nam sólnce svobódy, I Lénin velíkiy nam put ozaríl…” Alexei was singing to himself, completely oblivious to Ava’s presence. Ava struggled both to stay invisible and get the image of Alexei’s… tattoos… out of her mind.

After about a minute, Alexei left the showers, and Ava made herself visible again. After taking a moment to heave her guts out and trying to purge the cursed memory, she brushed her teeth and showered with lightning-fast speed and didn’t even take the time to dry her hair before rushing back to her room.

Ava threw on a white Pixies T-shirt, torn jeans, and dark brown combat boots before slipping on a casual brown leather jacket and packing the last few items in her suitcase. She took a moment to glance at her Ghost suits in the corner of the room, and aside from the fact it wouldn’t fit in her suitcase, there didn’t seem to be a reason to bring one along. They were going to DC, not on another mission.

Ava went over to her nightstand and unplugged her charging phone. Only 15% charged, but it would have to do for now, she only had three minutes before Bucky said they needed to leave. She slipped the phone in her jacket pocket and grabbed her charging cord, but she paused one moment while looking at her nightstand.

Ava’s thoughts went back to her dreams, to her nightmares. She had many, but this was by far the most recent and most recurring. Gingerly, she opened up the drawer of her nightstand and saw the collapsible sword lying there.

Taskmaster’s sword.

No, Ava forced herself to remember, her name was Antonia.

She doesn’t know what compelled her to take it, but Ava grabbed the sword handle and placed it in her suitcase.

Ava doesn’t know how she does it in under a minute, but she is able to successfully phase through multiple floors of the Watchtower, suitcase in hand, without injuring herself or alarming anyone else in the building. If she weren’t in such a rush she would be quite impressed with her prowess.

She finally makes it to the garage and sees Bucky tossing his suitcase in the bed of the black Chevy Colorado he’s picked for the drive. He’s dressed in dark jeans and boots, a plain red T-shirt, and a rough-looking black leather jacket. Having used his vibranium arm to toss his suitcase in the truck bed, his flesh-and-blood hand is holding a light grey suit, shirt, and tie from a hanger. Presumably what he was going to wear once he got to Capitol Hill.

Ava let her mind wander for a moment. Bucky Barnes in a suit. That would be something to see.

Bucky opened the left rear door of the truck and hung his suit on the hook there, apparently not noticing Ava’s arrival. Ava then regained her focus and tossed her suitcase in the truck bed next to Bucky’s, which created a loud clang and startled Bucky as he turned to face her.

“Er… Hi,” Ava offered, weakly waving at him. Bucky just blinked, and Ava became self-conscious for a moment. She probably looked awful, her hair still sopping wet and looking out of sorts. She was never a particularly vain person, but then again she never really had people she needed to look impressive for. 

Except… why did she feel she had to be impressive for Bucky Barnes?

Bucky then glanced down at his watch on his right wrist and said, “Twenty-three seconds to spare, I’m impressed.”

Ava raised an eyebrow, “You were timing me, Barnes?” 

“Old habits, I suppose,” Bucky offered, “Back in basic we had to be in our PT gear and our beds made in under two minutes.”

“Ah,” Ava replied, not knowing exactly how to respond to that, “Well… shall we be off, then?”

“Yeah, we should… be off,” Bucky said, then blinked. Ava had long known she didn’t have the best social graces, but she was surprised at Bucky seeming less confident than he normally did. On missions he was firm and decisive, when planning things with Yelena he could be level-headed and constructive, and when the team was gathered he would know what to say and how to deal with each of them. But one-on-one? It was like he was a completely different person.

Bucky climbed into the driver’s seat of the truck, and Ava opened up the passenger seat to sit next to him. He started the engine and began to pull away from the lot, navigating a series of winding passageways before stopping at the garage door. For security reasons, the Watchtower motor pool did not open right underneath the building but opened up from a secret entrance, free from prying eyes, paparazzi, and potential spies. Yelena had made some “anti-Val” adjustments that everyone warmly welcomed.

“Here,” Bucky said, reaching into the backseat and grabbing two baseball caps he had sitting there. He handed one to Ava, who looked at it with curiosity and amusement.

“I’m a Yankees fan, then?” Ava remarked with a smirk, but Bucky just sighed as he placed his Dodgers cap on his head and said, “They were on sale. Besides, the lower the profile, the better.”

The garage door opened to them and Bucky drove the truck down through an alleyway. He turned the corner onto Park Avenue, and on their right just up ahead was the Watchtower. Ava looked out her window to see a mob of people gathered by the front entrance. Some had their cameras for the papers and the news stations. Others were holding picket signs, and the first one that caught Ava’s attention was bold, red lettering that said “#NotMyAvengers.” There were some others too that made hurtful comments and observations, but most of them could be ignored.

What Ava could not ignore were five picketers standing next to each other each holding large photographs of herself, Bucky, Yelena, Walker, and Alexei, each with a red “X” over them and each captioned with “PRETENDERS.” But looking closer at her own picture, Ava saw they had drawn devil horns and a frowning face over her blank mask.

Ava exhaled, thinking she should have gotten used to it by now, but she hadn’t. 

As the crowd fizzled out past them, Ava felt something touch her shoulder, and her head pivoted to see Bucky had placed his hand there with gentle firmness. Normally she would have shoved away anyone who did that with her, but she trusted Bucky enough by now to not attack him on sight. 

“Hey,” Bucky said with concern, “Don’t worry about them, don’t even think about them. They’re behind us now and they’re not gonna bother us anymore.”

“Right,” Ava said, her gaze turning to the window again, “Until the next time.”

Bucky gently took his hand off her shoulder and placed it back on the steering wheel, sighing.

“It’s funny,” Ava suddenly spoke again, finding her courage through her bitterness as she stared off in the middle distance, “People complaining for years and years about there being no Avengers to protect the world. Then we show up and now they hate us.”

“They don’t hate us,” Bucky responded, “Give it time, the vocal ones will get bored of it eventually and find someone else to annoy.”

“Will they?” Ava asked, looking over towards Bucky who was now focused on the road, “A bunch of washed-up killers and mercenaries being led by the Bitch Queen of Langley will suddenly be accepted as Earth’s Mightiest Heroes?”

“Val doesn’t lead us, we control her,” Bucky said, eyes still on the road.

Ava scoffed, “What control? You were ready to have us all testify against her, but one press conference and we all just cave in. Our faces are on T-shirts and cereal boxes and a bunch of other useless rubbish while they call us criminals for all the terrible things we’ve done, and she’s still in charge of the CIA.”

“I’m not any happier about it than you are, but that’s just how it is,” Bucky said, “Val knows the moment she steps out of line or threatens us we can destroy her, but if we go public with everything about OXE then that screws everyone, especially Bob. I’d rather avoid that whole mess again. Right now we’re at a stalemate, which sucks but there’s not much we can do about it right now but grin and bear it. If that means we’re the Avengers, then we’re the Avengers. At least this way we can do some good.”

Ava doesn’t respond immediately, and a tense silence hangs in the air. She had lots of thoughts about the situation regarding Valentina and them all being forced into being the Avengers, but none of that mattered at the moment. Bucky had brought up Bob and OXE, and her mind went back to the Void. All these months later and she still hadn’t properly addressed it - and neither had Bucky.

She remembers back to the other night when she heard him crying through the bedroom door, being caught between doing something and nothing and ultimately choosing to do nothing. The whole reason Ava wanted to come along in the first place was to try and make amends, and as fate would have it, Bucky was part of those amends. They certainly had the privacy and the time to talk about it, just the two of them. If they were gonna be on the road for a while, now was as good an opportunity as any.

“So…” Ava said after a while, taking a moment to think of the right words so she didn’t make a fool of herself like she usually did, “Do you want to talk about it?”

Bucky raised an eyebrow as he looked in her direction, “It? What do you mean- oh. Oh. ”

There was a certain level of dread in the second utterance of “Oh.” They’d both been avoiding it, but Ava could tell that finally acknowledging their unspoken connection very much bothered Bucky, and she immediately began to regret saying anything. 

“You know what? I shouldn’t have said anything, I’m sorry-” Ava began, feeling a wave of embarrassment hit her, but Bucky quickly responded, “No, no! It’s alright, it’s just…. It needed to get talked about at some point, but it caught me off guard is all.”

“We can wait till later or whenever you’re ready,” Ava offered, “I mean, we got the time.”

“Now works for me,” Bucky seems to have accepted the situation, albeit reluctantly, “But… I don’t know where to begin.”

“Neither do I,” Ava says truthfully. How did you have this conversation with someone? Their situation was already a complicated one, even before the Void. If they had met up at any point between when SHIELD fell and three months ago, this might have been easier.

“I suppose maybe we should start with the elephant in the room,” Bucky said, his gaze still focused on the road, “I’m sorry. About all of it. Hurting you.”

Ava’s cheeks went a shade of crimson, though not from embarrassment as much as perhaps being a bit overwhelmed. Hearing those words aloud meant more to Ava than she could ever hope to communicate to Bucky, but damn it if she wasn’t going to try.

“It wasn’t you, they had control of your mind,” Ava told him, and she meant what she said; she never blamed him for any of that. She knew he had no choice in the matter, that he’d been programmed to hurt and kill on behalf of evil men. The same thing had happened with Yelena.

And Antonia.

Bucky’s jaw tensed at her words, “But I did it. I still hurt you.”

“I’d been hurting for my entire life, it was nothing new,” Ava told him, then she took a deep breath before saying, “Besides, it wasn’t like I didn’t hurt you too. I’m sorry about that.”

Bucky shook his head, “You were a kid.”

“I was nineteen,” Ava said flatly, “I was grown and I made my own choices.”

“No, you didn’t get any choices, Ava,” Bucky said, glancing back over towards her, “Hydra took them from you. They made you do all of those things, you were as trapped by them as I was, probably even worse.”

“I wasn’t trapped,” Ava explained, “They didn’t put my brain in the liquidizer, they physically couldn’t. I knew what I was doing the entire time.”

Bucky pinched the bridge of his nose with his vibranium fingers in frustration, “Okay, we’re just going in circles now. Main point is, Hydra did terrible things to both of us and we hurt each other. Agreed?”

“Don’t know how we could disagree, but sure,” Ava remarked.

“Alright, good,” Bucky said.

More silence followed. The tension was still there but considerably lessened now that the main component of their shared trauma had actually been addressed. Mission accomplished, right?

No, Ava was still bothered by it. Aside from the fact they’d yet to discuss their connection in the Void, there were parts of that whole story they hadn’t addressed. Ava didn’t mention that look of hesitation she’d seen in the Winter Soldier’s eyes in that first encounter. And neither of them mentioned the Major. Maybe they’d eventually get there, but it seemed even more impossible now than it did a few minutes ago.

“I know we both said it already, but… I’m sorry,” Bucky broke the silence. 

“I’m sorry, too,” Ava said sincerely. At the very least there weren’t any hard feelings or bad blood between them. She appreciated the sentiment, even if she felt she didn’t deserve his pity or anyone else’s.

“God, I…” Bucky began after another moment, “I can’t help but think… It’s just weird that we’d met then, then Hydra falls and we’re completely off the other’s radar, and now years later we’re both here and we’re part of this team and we’re on the road together, and… I’m rambling now, aren’t I?”

This actually made Ava laugh. Not a strong laugh, but it was a genuine one. There was something touching about seeing Bucky actually wear his heart on his sleeve for a change, rather than hiding behind the stoicism that made him appear more robotic than the arm already did.

“Maybe just a smidge,” Ava teased, “But yeah it is weird. I mean, just the odds of…”

Ava trailed off yet again. At this point, she thinks she’d be terrible at nature walks if she was into that sort of thing. But that’s a whole other issue.

It was the thought of the coincidence of it all. Bucky was the only person on the team she had any prior history with, and that was because of SHIELD - well, Hydra, really, but the difference was negligible since they didn’t exactly advertise their name or any tentacle logos while she was under their control. But SHIELD and Hydra were ancient history now; Bucky hadn’t really registered in her mind in those interim years (mainly because she was struggling with trying not to die), and now suddenly here they were as…

Well, she wasn’t sure what they were. Definitely teammates. Maybe friends as well.

But there was a part of Ava who felt maybe “friends” wasn’t quite accurate. And no, it wasn’t the butterflies she suddenly felt in the pit of her stomach that were telling her this. Or was that hunger because she didn’t have breakfast or dinner last night?

“You bring anything to eat? I’m famished,” Ava asked innocently.

“There’s a grocery bag in the backseat, should be a few granola bars and waters if you’d like,” Bucky said. 

“Yum, thanks,” Ava said, turning around in her seat, phasing her arm through it, and grabbing a granola bar and a water.

Some more time passed in silence between the two as Bucky drove the truck through the streets of New York and Ava munched on her granola bar. Traffic was starting to become more congested and they were still in Manhattan.

Bucky pulled up the GPS on the dashboard and input directions to DC, but then sighed when he looked at it.

“Ah, dammit,” Bucky cursed, and Ava looked over and said, “What is it?”

“I-95’s backed up all to hell, says it’s a ten hour drive,” Bucky explained.

“That’s not good,” Ava said, “Is there a shorter route?”

“There is, but not by much. We can go West onto Route 78 and it’ll be six hours, but it’s more miles and we’d be heading into Central PA.”

“Huh,” Ava remarked, “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been to Pennsylvania. What’s it like?”

“Did some construction work in Philadelphia in the Summer of ‘35. I got mugged four times in three months,” Bucky explained, “Never was in Amish country though.”

Ava smirked, “How about it, Barnes? Up for a little holiday?”

Bucky looked over at her and returned the smirk, “Well, it is the faster route. What the hell? Let’s do it.”

Bucky input the GPS directions to his house outside of DC, and he turned the corner at the next street to head West.

Once he’d done that, Ava made for the radio and switched it on as she tuned from station to station. Bucky didn’t mind she grabbed the radio but after about three minutes of combing through stations he was getting just a bit annoyed.

“Find anything you like yet, Starr?” Bucky said, and Ava was going to shoot back a comment before she heard one of her favorite songs come blasting over the radio. Best part is that she just knew Bucky would like it if he didn’t know it already.

“How lucky can one guy be? I kissed her and she kissed me. Like the fella once said, ‘Ain’t that a kick in the head?’”

“Oh my god, yes!” Ava exclaimed, “I love Dino! Haven’t heard one of his songs in ages.”

Ava was lost in her own little world for a moment while Bucky sat alongside her silently listening to the music over the radio, seemingly enjoying it. But about halfway through the song his eyes widened in surprise.

“Wait a second… Dino?” Bucky asked aloud, though not directly at Ava, “Dino Crocetti?”

Ava's temporary bubble had popped when Bucky had spoken up.

“Beg pardon?” Ava asked in curiosity.

“I know that voice anywhere, it’s Dino Crocetti,” Bucky explained, “Small-time singer, used to do shows over in Brooklyn in this one joint we had. Bought me and Steve drinks a couple of times. Had no idea he took off at all.”

Ava listened, confused, but it took her another moment before realization kicked in.

“Wait, Bucky… you knew Dean Martin? ”

Chapter Text

The drive out of New York had been fairly uneventful after Bucky had explained how he had known Dean Martin back in the day. There wasn’t much to tell, but Bucky saw Ava’s interest piqued and found it to be a pleasant distraction, and not just from the tension between the two of them either.

As they were heading towards Holland Tunnel, they passed by numerous AVTF checkpoints, and Bucky was thankful that what he had to say had Ava’s undivided attention. The anti-Avengers protesters were bad enough, and Bucky didn’t want Wilson Fisk’s stormtroopers to be another burden on Ava’s mind. Not that they would bother them anyway since they were federally protected now (which Bucky was begrudgingly thankful to Valentina for), but it was just one more headache none of them needed.

Maybe some time out of the city is just what Ava needed, and for that Bucky was glad to have her along. 

Well, “glad” might be a strong word, given their history. But Bucky’s mind can’t come up with anything different, so glad it is.

Once they had made the long crawl through Holland Tunnel, there hadn’t been much conversation between the two. Occasionally they’d chat about the music on the radio or about directions, but apart from that they reverted to their normal routine of long silences. 

Bucky merged onto Route 78 passing Jersey City, followed the Bay Bridge into Newark, and continued the drive to DC. Along the way as they crossed New Jersey, names of cities and towns Bucky knew but never visited passed them by. Vauxhall, Pluckemin, Clinton, Bloomsbury, their names flashed on highway signs as they rolled through, quiet as mice.

It had been a few hours since they left the Watchtower, and the thought had crossed Bucky’s mind that this had been the longest he’d spent alone with Ava. And here he was, wasting the opportunity to forge stronger bonds with one of his team by continuing to sit in conflicted, stoic silence. But what would he talk about anyway? What did they have in common besides their shared trauma and maybe some music tastes? It wasn’t that he didn’t want to build bridges, but for the life of him his mind was coming up blank.

But he still could not get her out of his mind. Just what was it about Ava Starr that made him feel so… different?

His mind continued to be a jumbled mess of thoughts as they crossed into Pennsylvania, and more names passed them by. Easton, Allentown, Hamburg, Bethel. The cities and highways gave way to farms and cow country as they merged onto Route 81 towards Harrisburg. Bucky never saw this part of the state before, and was unexpectedly taken by the serenity of it. 

In his younger years he would’ve wanted nothing to do with this, being the born-and-bred Brooklyn boy he was and proud of it. His time in Wakanda had broadened his horizons (among other things), and although this wasn’t near as beautiful as Wakanda had been, there was something very peaceful about it.

“Daydreaming, Barnes?” Ava’s voice chimed in after what seemed like a million years. Bucky hadn’t even realized he’d lost his focus and saw his truck was straddling the line between lanes. He quickly swerved back to the right lane, which was met by honking from behind them. Bucky then rolled down his window, stuck his arm out, and motioned for the car to pass as a form of apology. Bucky looked in the rearview mirror to see they had now fallen far behind them, which Bucky found odd until he realized why they might not have been keen to pass.

“Ah, shit,” Bucky cursed, realizing they probably saw his vibranium hand and got spooked. He should’ve remembered to put on gloves before setting out.

“Hey Ava,” Bucky began, turning to speak with his companion, “Could you do me a favor and grab my gloves from the glovebox?”

Ava’s emerald eyes blinked, and she said, “You’re probably the one person left on the planet who actually keeps gloves in a glovebox.”

“Well, what else would you use a glovebox for?” Bucky asked rhetorically, eyes back on the road.

Ava didn’t answer but did as asked and opened the glovebox, where she not only found Bucky’s black leather gloves but also a handgun and spare magazines.

“As an arms locker, evidently,” Ava remarked as she drew the pistol out. Bucky looked over and in a panic quickly snatched the gun from Ava’s grip before shoving it back inside the glovebox.

“That’s loaded,” Bucky said sternly, “and it’s for emergencies only.”

“I know my way around guns, Barnes. I’m not a child,” Ava said with a hint of annoyance in her voice. Bucky didn’t mean to treat Ava like that, but like her, he too had boundaries, especially when it came to his weapons.

That, and the last time Ava got hold of one of his guns she had shot him with it. Of course, that had been in the past with Hydra. Strangely it was not something that really haunted him as he thought it would.

“Any other secret weapons I should know about?” Ava asked, a mix of genuine curiosity and biting humor. In the interest of trust, Bucky exhaled and started explaining.

“Well, you saw the P99 in the glovebox,” he began, “There’s a SIG Sauer under my seat… and another in the driver door… and a Beretta under your seat… a Glock 19 under the steering wheel… my Skorpion and a short-barreled Remington in the center console… oh and a .22 magnum Derringer tucked in the sun visor.”

Ava just stared at him, her expression stern. Bucky shifted uncomfortably in his seat as he felt her eyes judging him.

“... Okay, I have a few automatics under the truck bed too,” Bucky said, “But I swear Yelena’s car has more than mine.”

“Incredibly, I don’t think you’re lying,” Ava quipped, but Bucky could feel the doubt radiating off of her. He quickly fidgeted with the leather gloves and pulled one over his left hand while he tried to keep his focus on the road.

Silence filled the truck once more as Bucky continued driving down the highway. They finally reached Harrisburg then merged South onto Route 83 towards Baltimore. They were somewhere between Harrisburg and York when Bucky saw that they were running low on gas.

“We gotta make a pit stop,” Bucky said, taking an exit off the highway and eventually coming to a stop at the first gas station they saw, a little mom-and-pop place.

Bucky and Ava both clambered out of the truck, Ava taking a minute to stretch her limbs after being confined for several hours. Bucky grabbed the gas pump and started filling the tank.

“Heading off to the loo, be right back,” Ava informed Bucky, and she set off for inside the station. Bucky caught himself glancing in her direction as she walked off, a certain sway in her step. It reminded him strongly of the way the girls of Madison Avenue used to carry themselves, back on the occasions Bucky would find himself with enough pocket money to make it into Manhattan. There was a graceful nature about them, though he knew a lot of it was performative even back then. But there was something unapologetically honest in the way Ava carried herself, and that’s what kept his gaze fixated on her, even if at that moment his thoughts were nothing but mush.

And also why he ended up spilling gasoline all over the pavement.

“Dammit,” Bucky swore again, stepping back just in time so the gas dripping from the nozzle didn’t get on his boots. He did his best to wipe up the droplets that had spilled on the side of the truck.

What was with him? He’d never been this clumsy. That had always been Steve’s deal back in the day, always the one too honest for his own good, always the one who didn’t know how to avoid a fight or even talk to girls. Add to all his experience in the Army, as an assassin, and now as an Avenger, Bucky knew plenty well how to handle himself. 

But for whatever reason, Ava Starr had this grip on him that turned the feared Winter Soldier into that dumb, scrawny kid from Brooklyn who was foolish enough to pick fights with guys twice his size if only to protect dumber, scrawnier Steve Rogers from guys four times his size.

As Bucky continued to clean the spilled gasoline, he steeled his thoughts and hypothesized it was something about Ava’s chronically quantum-entangled state that turned his already screwed-up brain into absolute garbage. 

But, as with most things, there was that little voice at the back of his mind telling him he was full of shit.

“Hey,” Ava’s voice sounded from the ether, causing Bucky to become alarmed and whip his head in her direction again since he hadn’t heard her walking back. He was so wrapped up in his own pathetic thoughts even his enhanced hearing had failed him.

“Everything alright?” Ava asked with concern, leaning against the bed of the truck, staring down at the ground and seeing the spilled gasoline there.

“No, yeah, I’m good here,” Bucky’s composure suddenly snapping back into place, “Damn pump’s defective or something.”

Even if Ava’s bullshit detector had picked up on Bucky’s lie, she didn’t let on. Instead, she waited for Bucky to finish up and pay for the gas and then asked, “Would it be a bother if we stopped off for lunch? Guy at the counter said there’s a diner nearby supposed to be good, and no offense but those granola bars weren’t very filling.”

Bucky pondered it for a moment, having intended to drive straight on to DC if not for this little pit stop for gas. He checked his watch and saw that it was going on two o’clock in the afternoon. It had taken them the better part of an hour to even get off Manhattan Island with all the traffic in Holland Tunnel, and then the driving between Jersey and here had been a few more hours after that. On top of all of that, he was actually hungry for a change.

“I could eat, sure,” Bucky agreed, and Ava smirked.

They both got into the truck once more and set off for the diner with the directions Ava had gotten from the gas station clerk. Once they had found the place and parked, they walked inside and sat themselves down on opposite sides of an open booth with a window view of the countryside.

The two of them sat there for a moment, once again in silence. Bucky twiddled his gloved thumbs while Ava propped up her head with her hand, both of them gazing in any direction but each other’s. Eventually, after what seemed like an eternity of agonizing silence, a plump-looking waitress with a toothy smile came by with two glasses of water and set them on the table, which shook them out of their absent-minded states.

“Why, don’t you two look quite the pair!” the waitress exclaimed in an annoyingly-cheery voice as she placed menus in front of the pair of them, “I’m Rachael and I’ll be taking care of you this fine day. Can I get you anything else to drink?”

“Uh…” Bucky began, his mind still pretty much mush, “I’ll have a coffee, please. Black.”

“You got it!” the waitress replied, “And you, hon’?”

Ava blinked, seemingly confused why anyone on Earth would call her “hon,’” before saying, “Raspberry ice tea if you have it.”

“We sure do! I’ll give you a few moments to look over the menu and I’ll be back with those drinks in a jiff!” she told them before heading back into the kitchen, leaving Bucky and Ava just a bit perplexed.

“Charming,” Ava spoke flatly before picking up her menu and scanning it. Bucky did the same, though not with any particular interest. He’d probably get a sandwich and that would be that. They had to get back on the road at some point, and he’d prefer to get to his place before dark.

Occasionally, Bucky would look up from his menu to see Ava fixated on the page in front of her, seemingly in deep thought like it was a mission to be accomplished. He couldn’t help but wonder if, like himself, she was put off by the waitress’s comment about them looking like a “pair.” It seemed just a bit invasive even if nothing had been meant by it other than they looked like tourists on vacation.

Eventually, the waitress returned with their drinks and asked what they wanted to eat. Bucky glanced down at his menu and said, “I’ll take a chicken salad sandwich, and a side of steamed cauliflower.”

“And I think I’ll do the patty melt, medium well, with sauerkraut instead of the onions, a double order of sweet potato chips- er, fries, and some extra Thousand Island dressing for dipping,” Ava stated with promptness, and Bucky was more than a bit surprised at both her choices and her appetite.

“Ooh, and an order of mozzarella sticks to start,” Ava added at the end before the waitress finished writing up her main order, “please.”

Bucky wasn’t going to judge her at all, but it did bring into sharp relief the fact she probably wasn’t used to simple comforts like this and wanted to experience all that she could. She’d spent the majority of her life ruled by pain and fear, and now that she was free of both she finally had a chance to actually live her life.

Well, as much as she could, given the circumstances.

“All fantastic choices,” the waitress said as she finished writing up their orders, “I’ll get this going straight away and… say, haven’t I seen the pair of you somewhere before?”

Bucky’s nerves tensed up. The last thing he wanted was for them to be recognized on this trip, hence why he and Ava still had their baseball caps pulled down over their heads.

Fortunately, Bucky found that salvation had come in the form of a well-timed lie from Ava.

“We get that a lot, actually,” Ava began, “People back across the pond say we look like Harry and Meghan, except I’m the English one and he’s the American.”

“Ohhh, that’s why!” the waitress seemed content with the answer, and Bucky sighed in relief even if his cheeks started to turn a shade of pink.

“So you’re visiting from England, then?” the waitress asked, curious.

“Indiana, actually,” Bucky chimed in, thinking his continued silence would only be more awkward as he said the first thoughts that came to mind, “We’re on a tour of… Civil War sites and we’re on our way to Gettysburg.”

“Sounds like a wonderful time,” the waitress commented, “but I think you might’ve taken a wrong turn. Gettysburg is back West.”

Of course she picked up on that. Why did he say Indiana? Or Gettysburg? Was he just thinking about Walker and his damned Lincoln book from last night? Why was it so warm in this place all of a sudden?

“Oh we know,” Ava spoke up again, “My Jimmy here made a wrong turn and we had to stop for gas, we’ll be heading back out as soon as we’re done here.”

Bucky’s cheeks had turned from pink to crimson. He didn’t even care about the food, he just wanted to leave before he died of embarrassment.

“Ah, I see,” the waitress said, and thankfully she didn’t press the subject any further. She collected their menus and set off for the kitchen. Bucky then reached for his glass of water and downed the whole thing in about five seconds.

“Gettysburg?” Ava asked in a low voice, raising an eyebrow. Bucky didn’t register it.

“Harry and Meghan? ‘ Your Jimmy?’” Bucky interrogated her with a fierce whisper, “What the hell was that all about?”

“One of us had to come up with something, and you certainly weren’t up for the task,” Ava jibed, taking a sip of her ice tea through a straw, “Low profile, right?”

“Yeah, but-” Bucky started, intending to say all manner of things to her, but then broke eye contact and said, “Eh, forget it.”

Bucky hoped this would be the end of it, but he stole a glance back over at Ava and saw she propped up her arms on the table and rested her chin against the back of her hands, staring at him intently as to silently ask - no, demand him to speak his mind. 

Those emerald eyes of hers had a glint in them. Damn her.

With a defeated sigh, Bucky relented, “Alright. The truth is… I really hate being called Jimmy. Like, so much. Jimmy or Jim or Jimbo… that’s not me, never has been.”

“Oh?” Ava asked, but not in a judgmental way and one that suggested genuine curiosity to hear more. Bucky felt more at ease now about sharing this part with her.

“I’ve never really liked my name,” Bucky began, “James. Never felt like it was me, y’know? It’s like… it carries this weight with it. Like it’s not your own but you’re just borrowing it from someone more important than you.”

Ava seemed to ponder it for a moment before asking, “What about James doesn’t feel like you?”

Bucky gave a weak half-chuckle, and said, “Remember what Walker said last night? I’m named after one of the worst Presidents in American history.”

“Walker’s a prick, he’s the one named after a damn bottle of Scotch,” Ava responded, and Bucky wasn’t going to argue with her on that.

“And yet you call yourself Bucky all the same,” Ava added, “No offense.”

“None taken,” Bucky replied honestly, “At least it was my choice. People’ve always known me as Bucky and I prefer it that way.”

“Did you ever learn why your parents named you that? Were they just the… patriotic type?” Ava tried asking as inoffensively as possible, and Bucky commended her efforts.

Bucky chuckled a bit more this time, “Actually, I’m just surprised they spelled ‘Buchanan’ correctly on my birth certificate, seeing as they probably just remembered the name from their civics exams.”

“They immigrated?” Ava asked, her curiosity piqued.

“Yeah,” Bucky started again, “My people came from Romania a few years before the Great War. Gheorghe and Wanetta Barna became George and Winnifred Barnes, me and my sisters followed not long after, and that was that.”

Bucky doesn’t know what compelled him to share all this with Ava. He was tight-lipped about a lot of things in general, but if he was being completely honest with himself he can’t remember the last time he’d told anyone about his family. He tried not to think about them too much, especially his sisters who’d all been younger than him but all had gone to their graves long before he got his mind back.

He didn’t know whether or not Ava was going to ask about them next, but even if she meant well he wasn’t ready to go down that road yet. So he changed course.

“I think my folks saw a list of names of presidents and picked one they liked,” Bucky said, “Probably had a lot of expectations of me or something, but… that’s all in the past.”

“Is that why you became a Congressman?” Ava asked, “Trying to live up to their expectations?”

“I… honestly don’t know,” Bucky answered truthfully. He had had a lot of doubts about his political career over the past few months, but now he was starting to doubt what his own intentions had been to begin with. Was it the legitimacy? The stability? The opportunity to make a difference without hurting anyone for a change? It’s not like he had eyes on the presidency or anything, he just… wanted to help.

Bucky looked down at the table, seeing his arms crossed in front of him and his unattended cup of coffee. He had this foolish hope that letting all this stuff out would help him feel better or perhaps help him understand Ava a little more, but now he just felt even more confused than before.

“Bucky,” Ava began, and Bucky looked up at her, “before the war, before you enlisted, what is it you wanted to do with your life?”

Bucky blinked. No one ever asked him that question before. 

“I didn’t have a plan,” Bucky spoke frankly, “In those days I was just trying to get by.”

“I didn’t ask if you had a plan,” Ava retorted, “What did you want to do?”

Bucky heard her words and pondered them for a moment, but there was something else. Something in the way she said it. Ava wasn’t just seeking information, but… validation. For what, Bucky didn’t know for sure, but he had his ideas.

“I guess… I really liked art,” Bucky answered after a lengthy pause, “Drawing, pictures, all that. Not like Saturday Evening Post stuff but maybe for the pulps. Maybe if the war hadn’t happened I would’ve done something with that. Or photography. Always thought that was swell back in the day.”

Ava nodded with careful understanding. Bucky could see the gears in her head at work on her face. To his surprise and delight, Ava was displaying a lot more maturity than he gave her credit for, especially about something so personal. It was rare for someone who genuinely wanted to know about him. The real him, that is. Not the Winter Soldier, not Captain America’s best friend, not the co-leader of the New Avengers, or even poor Sergeant Barnes, but him. 

And it was at that moment he regretted not reaching out to Ava much sooner.

“Would you do it today?” Ava asked with earnestness, “Like, if you weren’t a Congressman or an Avenger and you had a choice, would that be something you’d do?”

“Probably not,” Bucky said, “Nowadays everyone’s got cameras on their cellphones and then there’s that AI art nonsense that I’ll never understand.”

“Yeah, I don’t get it either,” Ava replied, shaking her head. She took another sip of ice tea.

Bucky glanced out the window at the countryside, seeing a large grassy field probably used for cattle grazing. His mind went back to Wakanda again and a smile played on his lips.

“You know what? Maybe I’d just become a farmer. Buy some land with my Army back pay and whatever else I can gouge Valentina for, build a barn, a house, raise some kids-”

Ava choked on her ice tea and started coughing heavily. Alarmed, Bucky looked back over in her direction as she tried clearing her throat.

“Are you alright?” Bucky worriedly asked her, just about to get out of his seat and come over to her before Ava motioned for him to remain seated. A few moments and more coughs had passed before Ava looked like she wasn’t about to die.

“Wrong pipe,” Ava spoke, her voice just a bit hoarse, “Sorry, I just- I didn’t take you to have family plans.”

“Family plans? What are you talk- oh ,” Bucky started to get out, but then remembered what he’d just said and his face went so red it looked sunburned, “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I meant ‘kids’ like ‘baby goats.’ I helped raise goats in Wakanda.”

“Ooooooooh,” Ava exclaimed as things suddenly clicked into place. Now it was her turn for her face to go crimson. Bucky saw her shrink just a little bit into her seat.

They both started laughing. Neither one knew what was so funny about it, or what caused them both to lose control at the same time, but once it had come the laughter couldn’t stop. Not one-sided half-chuckles over little quips or barbs or observations, but genuine, hearty laughter. Embarrassment be damned, they both thought it was hilarious and couldn’t help themselves. 

Bucky felt the eyes of the other diner patrons looking in their direction but for the first time in a while he didn’t care what anyone else thought. He was too damn happy.

“ ‘Baby goats in Wakand-ahahahaha!’” Ava practically bellowed, her hands pressed to her stomach as she continued to laugh heavily, so much so that Bucky could almost see tears coming from her eyes.

He wasn’t much better, the grin he had was so wide his face started hurting. He put a hand to his face to try and suppress it, but to no avail. He was laughing like a madman, something he hadn’t realized was still possible.

It took a few moments more for the laughter to die down, but by the time it had finished, Bucky felt better than he had in a very long time. He felt relaxed, at ease, like none of the other problems he knew he still had seemed to matter. All that mattered was that at this moment, in this place, with Ava, he felt good.

The waitress came back with a plate of mozzarella sticks in one hand and a pitcher of water in the other. She refilled Bucky’s empty glass and set the plate in the middle of the table between them.

“There you go, and your sandwiches will be out shortly,” she told them, and then turned to Ava and said with a smirk, “Be sure to leave some for him, hon’.”

She had clearly meant it as a joke, but Bucky could tell from the way Ava’s face stiffened that she wasn’t amused by it. 

“I’ll try my best,” Ava said through a forced smile.

The waitress seemed oblivious to the tension, but fortunately had just nodded and walked away from their booth without another word. Bucky glanced from her to Ava, feeling some of that contentedness wither as she became quiet once more.

In a selfish attempt to keep the good mood up, Bucky commented, “I’m guessing they must be fantastic mozzarella sticks then.”

Ava gave a snort of laughter, which Bucky took as a good sign.

Bucky managed to grab a single stick before Ava pulled the plate towards her and immediately shoved a whole one in her mouth.

“ Mmmm, ohashogud, ” Ava said with her mouth full as she dipped a second stick in marinara sauce. The way she was carrying herself, Bucky thought she hadn’t had any food in a month.

Bucky hadn’t even taken a bite of his yet, staring at Ava as she chowed down on more of them. He was a super soldier and could stomach a lot, but for the life of him he did not understand how Ava was doing this without choking on any of the stringy cheese. 

Ava didn’t seem to pay Bucky any mind until she had cleared about half the plate. Then her eyes met Bucky’s, his hand still holding his solitary mozzarella stick, and he gulped.

“ Whot?” Ava asked through half a filled mouth, looking at him with an expression ranging somewhere between annoyance and defensiveness, “I’m hungry.”

“Hey, no judgments from me,” Bucky said, “You know how many calories I have to consume in a day to keep up with my metabolism?”

Ava swallowed, dabbed her mouth with a napkin, and then said, “I mean, judging from how often Walker and Alexei raid the fridge it makes sense.”

“I think they got it worse than me to be honest,” Bucky said, “but like I said, no judgments.”

“Then what was that look, then?” Ava asked, tilting her head. Bucky’s knees felt weak. Last thing he wanted to do was offend her, but lying would probably do that just as well.

“It just… surprises me is all,” Bucky answered, “You just look so…”

Bucky had trapped himself in a corner. He was going to say “thin” but then realized how wrong that sounded and how that might set her off. 

“You look like a light eater,” Bucky finally managed to blurt out, probably realizing it was the wrong thing to say, and then nervously started sipping on his coffee. Him and his goddamn mouth.

Ava’s lips pursed themselves into a pout, but then she shrugged and responded, “What can I say? It just goes right through me.”

And with that, scalding hot coffee became lodged in Bucky’s throat as he choked back burning pain, screams, and more bellowing laughter all in the same instant.

Bucky Barnes had survived the Great Depression, World War II, Hydra, super soldiers, two alien invasions, and a nigh-invincible demigod who most likely had bipolar disorder.

Ava Starr was going to be the death of him.

And they hadn’t even had their sandwiches yet.

Chapter Text

After being assured that Bucky wasn’t going to die from complications relating to hot diner coffee, Ava began to breathe easy again. She didn’t know what she’d do if a badly-timed joke killed the one person who actually seemed interested in talking to her.

Their sandwiches finally arrived and the pair of them ate in silence, but that was mainly on account of Ava being so hungry that smalltalk would’ve impeded her. The mozzarella sticks had been delicious, but she craved more as she practically inhaled her patty melt. Bucky was mainly picking at his cauliflower and Ava caught him staring more than a few times, but she couldn’t be bothered to say anything. And why should she? She was enjoying herself on a supremely rare occasion.

That and she didn’t mind the glances anyway, not that she would ever admit it.

When Ava had practically demolished her entire plate, and Bucky still had the other half of his chicken salad untouched, Bucky signaled for the waitress to bring them the check, but not before Ava ordered a slice of cheesecake to go.

“What? I wasn’t going to have it now, it’ll be my supper,” Ava said to Bucky as he fumbled for his cash.

Soon afterwards the pair of them exited the diner, Ava volunteering to carry their leftovers before placing them in the backseat of Bucky’s truck. They clambered into the vehicle again and resumed their drive toward the American capital. 

“Hey,” Bucky started to speak after a few minutes of driving, “Do you mind if I ask you something?”

The butterflies Ava remembers having as they set out this morning returned again, and this time she couldn’t blame hunger as the cause. 

“I think you just did,” Ava quipped, doing her best to conceal her anxieties, “But yeah, go ahead.”

“Back at the diner, you asked me what I would do if I had the choice,” Bucky began, “and it got me thinking… What about you? What would you do?”

Ava hesitated, and considered what he was saying. When she’d asked him those questions about himself, about what he’d wanted out of life, she expected he’d eventually ask that of her if nothing else but to be polite. But hearing the sincerity in his voice, the genuine desire to understand more about her than her files could tell him… well, Ava wasn’t entirely prepared for it either. She’d definitely thought about it, but like him her thoughts were so jumbled she wasn’t sure what her answer was. 

Ava’s desire to know more about Bucky had been genuine. She had long been able to separate the Winter Soldier from Bucky Barnes, but that didn’t stop Bucky Barnes from being an enigma to her. It wasn’t just their past with Hydra or what they’d seen in the Void together either; Ava still felt that unspoken connection with him she couldn’t quite explain, and she wanted to understand him better.

But there was something else. Something that went beyond just understanding him. Ava could try and relate with the rest of their little team - except maybe Walker, the arrogant prick - and maybe come out of it a more “holistic” person, but with Bucky, she wanted… more.

Shoving those feelings aside along with Yelena’s voice nagging her that she shouldn’t do that, she tried coming up with an answer for Bucky’s question.

“Well… I suppose when I was a kid I wanted to be a scientist. Like my parents,” Ava began, the memory of her parents being both a comforting thought and an open wound, “But truthfully, if I never see the inside of a laboratory again, it’ll be too soon.”

“Oh,” Bucky said tensely, almost apologetically. Ava didn’t want to make him feel more uncomfortable after she’d gone through the bother of picking his brain for answers about his past, so she shifted gears.

“I mean, I don’t think I would’ve gone for that anyway. Dad was a real egghead but I didn’t get that from him,” Ava said, “My marks in school weren’t the highest, and I never had a head for quantum physics aside from the bare minimum considering my… condition.”

“I see,” Bucky said, “So where was school for you?”

“My dad moved us around the world a lot for his work, so never really in one place for too long,” Ava said, “but before all that I had been in grammar school back in Hull… sometimes.”

Bucky smirked, and then turned to her and said, “I cut class a lot myself, mainly for Dodgers games. What did you get up to?”

“Tigers matches,” Ava answered, “Gotta root for the home team, right?”

“Yep,” Bucky said, “If there’s one thing I hate about living in this century it's knowing the Dodgers got moved out of Brooklyn to Los Angeles. Now who am I supposed to root for? The Mets?”

Ava laughed, though admittedly her knowledge of American baseball was probably as limited as Bucky’s knowledge of English football. 

“Could be worse, you could always root for the West Chesapeake Valley Thunderbolts,” Ava remarked, “Sponsored by Shane’s Tire Shop.”

Bucky chuckled, “Yeah, suppose you’re right about that.”

“You know, I don’t actually hate that name so much now?” Ava spoke up suddenly, the thought having crossed her mind, “Thunderbolts, I mean.”

Bucky glanced over at her, “Really?”

“I mean, there are worse team names… probably,” Ava remarked, though none were presently coming to mind, “At the very least it doesn’t feel… derivative.”

Bucky pursed his lips. Ava could tell he knew where she was going with this.

“Like I told you earlier, there’s nothing we can do about it right now but accept it,” Bucky began, “But if the opportunity arises, then we can get the name changed if you like. Will probably be an absolute nightmare for the copyright lawyers to separate it from the former President, though…”

Ava laughed again, though it was much lighter since she didn’t really give a shit about the lawyers or branding anyway since their only purpose was to protect Val’s image.

“I wanted to ask you something else about that, by the way,” Bucky said, his tone becoming a bit more sober, “How come whenever we’re doing shoots for the magazines you’re always wearing your helmet?”

Ava froze for a moment. Now this was a question she hadn’t anticipated and had no answer for. She wracked her brain for something, anything that would constitute a half-decent excuse.

“Why ask me? Alexei and Walker wear their masks at those things too, you know,” Ava began, hoping that would be enough to satisfy Bucky, but he was anything but satisfied.

“You can still see their faces with those, and they do a lot without the masks besides,” Bucky remarked, “In fact, I think Walker was talking about wearing a beret the other day. Not really as practical but up to him, I guess.”

“What’s your point?” Ava asked, now just slightly irritated with him now.

“My point is that I don’t think I’ve seen you show your face in public since Val announced us three months ago,” Bucky said.

“And?” Ava asked defensively, “What, am I now required to plaster my face for tabloid journalists and internet trolls?”

“I didn’t say that,” Bucky tried easing off, “I was just curious, and it seems I’ve crossed a line. I’m sorry.”

The silent tension between them returned, the only thing more certain than death and taxes.

Ava knew Bucky meant well, but she still felt immensely uncomfortable with her circumstances as part of this new era of Avengers. She had spent pretty much her entire life in the shadows, always unseen and unwanted, and now suddenly here she was for the whole world to see and to judge. Her condition always made her feel isolated from the rest of the world, and all the things she’d done just made it that much worse. Now that she was public? That the entire world knew the name Ava Starr? She felt naked, exposed, vulnerable like a nerve.

Ava didn’t know the first thing about being a hero, nevermind an Avenger; that came with steep expectations. How much did people already know about her past? What if they knew about all the things Hydra and Valentina made her do? That she chose to do of her own freewill? Would they still call her a hero? Or was she, like her moniker, nothing more than a spectre ill-suited to live among mortals?

More time had passed without a word, and it wasn’t until they crossed the border into Maryland that Ava breathed deeply before breaking the silence.

“Look, I didn’t mean to bite your head off,” Ava started, “I get what you’re saying. I do. I just… it’s a lot, you know? The interviews and photoshoots and public appearances and merchandise… It's a lot to take in at once. I know Alexei and Walker are used to that sort of thing, but I’m not. I’m sure you can empathize on some level.”

“You’re right, and I’m sorry,” Bucky said, “Neither of us come from a very public-facing background. I should have considered that before opening my mouth, but I’m not good at this either.”

“What, publicity?” Ava asked.

“No, talking,” Bucky said, “I suck at talking to people. That’s why I’m such a shit politician.”

“You’re not a bad talker, Bucky. A bit too blunt, but at least you’re honest,” Ava admitted, “Rare quality in a politician. It’s just…”

Ava sighed again.

“I just have so little privacy these days I would like some anonymity,” Ava said, “That’s why I wear that ridiculous eggshell of a helmet at those things. If they want Ghost, they’ll get Ghost, but they’re not entitled to anything more.”

Ava turned away and leaned against the passenger window, watching the countryside pass them by.

“They can keep her for all I care,” Ava said, “I hate that name.”

“What, Ghost?” Bucky asked, “How come?”

“Because it’s the name of a SHIELD assassin with a mile-wide body count and endless pain and torment. That’s not a superhero people can admire,” Ava said with bitterness in her tone.

“I get your frustration,” Bucky said, “I hate that people still call me the Winter Soldier, especially Alexei.”

“Then why do you still let yourself be called that? By anyone?” Ava asked incredulously, turning to face him again.

“Because I realized a long time ago I can’t let my past define me,” Bucky answered with firmness, “The Winter Soldier was the Fist of Hydra and hurt a lot of people, but maybe now I can channel that into something good. Maybe the Winter Soldier can be someone that helps people for a change. And maybe now there’s a chance for Ghost to be the same.”

Ava pondered what he said for a moment. He had made a similar mini-speech to the whole of them in that abandoned petrol station in Utah, shortly after nearly blowing them all up. At the time she didn’t really think much of it. Bucky had wanted to stop Valentina, and Ava and the others wanted to help Bob, so it seemed like a good temporary “rallying cry.” But Ava could hear the conviction in his voice now, in someone who had spent almost a century in endless pain and torment refusing to let it rule him. 

Ava wished she had even a fraction of Bucky’s conviction.

She knew what that was like, to have her pain control her. It controlled her just as much as Pierce and Hydra did, even moreso considering all the terrible things she’d done after SHIELD fell. But when Janet van Dyne had healed her condition, saved her from the brink of death, Ava had the foolish notion that she was finally free.

But she still made terrible choices afterwards. It was her choice to start working with Valentina, her choice to burn bridges with the Pyms, Lang…

Bill…

Ava did everything in her power at that moment to keep herself from falling to pieces, literally and figuratively. Even now she wasn’t free. More autonomy than she’d thought possible, but she didn’t consider herself free. In place of pain, she was ruled by her fear. Fear of herself. Fear of facing up to those she hurt.

But wasn’t that why she’d come along with Bucky in the first place? To face those fears? To make up for the pain and suffering she caused?

Maybe Bucky was right, maybe this was Ava’s chance to make amends. Maybe Ghost could be more than an assassin that struck from the shadows, that lived between realities in a constant state of quantum entanglement. Maybe she could actually be the hero for a change.

Or maybe not. After all, what had she done to deserve it anyway?

Still, Ava was willing to see how things played out while in DC first, and though she knew she was likely to regret it later, she conceded to Bucky’s point for the moment.

“I’ll think about it,” Ava said after a while, then decided to shift gears once more, “But really, even if I were to keep it, it’s not even that accurate a name.”

“How do you mean?” Bucky asked, curious but reserved.

“For one, if I were an actual ghost, I’d be dead,” Ava spoke bluntly, but in a tone much less serious than before, “I’ve spent too many years trying to avoid that and too many more convinced I already was. For another, yes I can turn invisible and walk through walls, but I can’t possess people, I don’t leave trails of ectoplasm, and I can’t fly. Believe me, I’ve tried.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to give Bob any competition now, would we?” Bucky replied with a smirk. There was a boyish glint in his blue eyes when he said it, and it was enough to both lift Ava’s spirits and make her blush just a bit.

“Oh believe me, there’s nothing Bob has that I want,” Ava said with a rueful laugh, “The costume is pretty cool though.”

“Alright, real question, if you were gonna change the name, what would you pick?” Bucky asked.

“Truthfully I wouldn’t call myself anything, but if I had to pick something…” Ava paused as she searched her thoughts, and then smirked again at an old memory, “ Baba Yaga. ”

“ Baba Yaga ? Like the old Russian fairytale? Hmm,” Bucky sounded intrigued, if unconvinced, “Can’t say it’s what I would’ve picked, but if you like it then run with it. Did Alexei or Yelena give you the idea?”

“It’s a long story,” Ava said, not sure she felt up for going back through the whole tale of Scott Lang’s whacked-out Russian friend with the Elvis hair. What was his name again? Karl? Karyk?

“What about you?” Ava asked in turn, “What would you have people call you if not the Winter Soldier?”

“ Ingcuka Emhlophe, ” Bucky replied almost instantaneously.

“Beg pardon?” Ava couldn’t make out what he said.

“It means White Wolf. That’s what the Wakandans call me,” Bucky said as a look of contentment spread across his face. During this trip, Ava started to take notice that every time he mentioned Wakanda he looked like he was on cloud nine. She was rather jealous of it actually.

“It’s a good name,” Ava remarked, “Strong. Why not use it then?”

“Under different circumstances, I would,” Bucky said, “but with the way things are… well, it wouldn’t be right.”

“How come?” Ava asked, now wondering where this hesitancy had come from given how readily he’d answered her.

“I’m sorta persona non grata in Wakanda at the moment,” Bucky said, “I did a couple… few… silly things and ruffled some feathers.”

Bucky took off his baseball cap and ran his vibranium fingers through his hair.

“ Silly things? ” Ava asked, bemused. With the way he spoke in reverence of the Wakandans one would think he was an honorary citizen.

“That too is a long story,” Bucky replied, echoing Ava’s words from earlier, and Ava chose not to press the matter further.

“Anyway, between that, the CIA nearly starting a war with Wakanda, and… our thing with Val , ” Bucky seemed uncomfortable saying it aloud himself, “... well, I’m not gonna rock the boat any more than I already have. So, Winter Soldier it is.”

Bucky cleared his throat as he continued driving. They’d be coming up past Baltimore any time now.

“Huh,” Bucky said after a short bit, “I just realized… you’re only the second person I’ve told that to.”

Ava’s heart seemed to crawl up into her throat at that moment. The way Bucky said it just now made it seem like his mouth had been running and it was only now that his mind was catching up with it.

Ava watched his face turn a bright crimson. He had revealed something deeply personal about himself, which he had done several times today already but this time it seemed like he hadn’t meant to. Like this was a carefully-guarded secret he hadn’t wanted anyone to know.

Except he had shared it with her. Ava Starr. Some kid he knew from a thousand years ago in another life, someone who he had been made to fight and nearly killed in the name of Hydra’s twisted mission. Someone who had shot him to save her own life, so wrapped up in her own self-preservation she had barely considered the pain and torment he had been going through. 

And now, here they were, chatting like old friends, and he just revealed a private - no, intimate - part of himself by pure happenstance.

Why had he shared it with her? And why so readily?

“Who was the first?” Ava finally mustered up the courage to ask. She could hazard a guess as to who, and she’d likely be correct, but wanted to see if he would share this with her as well. Her desire to know more had almost become greed. 

Bucky didn’t answer right away, his eyes suddenly fixated on the upcoming exit sign for Baltimore. Ava watched some of the color drain from Bucky’s face as he passed the exit and kept on driving down the highway.

Bucky glanced over in her direction again, his expression somewhat ashen.

“Nobody important,” Bucky told her, his voice flat. Ava could smell the bullshit, but did nothing. Par the course.

The conversation between the two halted until they finally got off the highway, navigated some backroads, turned into a rather upscale suburban neighborhood, and at long last had pulled into the driveway of Bucky’s Maryland house, located just a couple miles outside of Washington, DC. It was late afternoon now, and the sun started to set over the tall birch trees surrounding the property.

“We’re here,” Bucky said as he killed the engine. Ava got out of the truck, taking a moment to stretch her legs once more, and was in awe of the magnificent brick structure of the place. It was an old style, to be certain, but Ava figured that’s how Bucky wanted it anyway. Still, it looked like the place cost a fortune for a guy living by himself and had only really been a functioning member of society in the last four years.

Wait, had Bucky been living by himself before being roped into the New Avengers? And why did Ava suddenly care?

Ava took off her baseball cap, let out an impressed whistle, then said, “I didn’t realize members of Congress got paid this much.”

“They don’t,” Bucky said, grabbing his hanging suit from the back of the truck and his suitcase from the truck bed, “But fortunately I got 80 years of Army backpay adjusted for inflation, bonuses for rank, decorations, POW status, more than a few Purple Hearts… plus it’s a rental.”

“Ah,” Ava replied simply, trying to wrap her head around how much money that had to be.

“So between that, and Val’s blank checks, I’d say I’m doing pretty okay for myself,” Bucky said, walking past her with his luggage in his hands. Ava then went over to the truck, grabbed her own suitcase and their leftovers, and followed Bucky into his home. 

For as impressive as the exterior was, Ava was just slightly disappointed when the inside looked… blank. The walls were barren and only a single, dusty sofa without blankets or throw pillows sat in the living area. The carpet and the walls were an uncomfortably bright white, like Bucky had intentionally chosen the model home and done nothing further with it. The kitchen had a polished-looking marble countertop, but the pantries and window frames looked just as barren as the living room.

Ava would have commented that Bucky could do with some sprucing up of the place, but held her tongue on the fact that her own room back at the Watchtower was pretty much the same, blank and devoid of character. Besides, it wasn’t like he’d been here in a while, and part of the purpose for the drive had been to gather up his belongings and bring them back to New York.

Still, from the looks of things, he didn’t have much to begin with. The only thing on the first floor of the house that even remotely looked like someone lived here was the gramophone sitting on the table next to the sofa, and the stack of records directly underneath it.

Ava figured a guy from the 1940s would have wanted some recollection of the era, though it didn’t stop her surprise seeing the big, battered brass horn and chipped wood. She figured it came from an antique store, and for a moment she wondered if the thing even worked.

“Here,” Bucky’s voice called out, and Ava turned her head to see Bucky outstretching his hand to take the leftovers from her grasp. He placed the bag in the fridge, then pulled out a bottle of beer that looked extremely cloudy. God knows how long it had been in there, or even if it was still safe to drink.

“Want one?” Bucky asked, but Ava shook her head.

“Thanks but I’ll pass for the moment,” Ava responded politely, and Bucky just shrugged and twisted the cap off with his vibranium fingers. He took a swig and she had to turn away to keep from gagging. After living with three super soldiers for the last three months, Ava thought she’d gotten used to displays of their enhanced tolerance, but she hadn’t.

“Welcome to Casa de Barnes, ” Bucky announced unceremoniously, “Bedroom is up the stairs at the end of the hallway if you want to put your stuff down. Laundry room and bathroom are on the left hand side, I got an office on the right. I’ll be in there if you need anything.”

“Where’s the other bedroom?” Ava asked, to which Bucky replied simply, “There isn’t one.”

Ava was taken aback by this, and her face went a shade of red. Was he proposing that…?

“I mean, there had been one but I turned it into my office,” Bucky clarified, “I’m gonna be taking the couch.”

Ava felt an invisible weight lift from her shoulders, and she mentally chastised her stupid, intrusive thoughts.

Get your head out of the gutter, Starr. Of course he didn’t mean it like… that .

“Bucky…” Ava began speaking, “I’m not going to kick you out of your own bed.”

“You’re not kicking me out of anywhere,” Bucky explained, “That mattress is too soft for me anyway, like a marshmallow. I’m probably gonna get rid of it once I resign from Congress.”

“Look I appreciate the offer, but…” Ava suddenly froze as the shock of what he just said set in.

“Wait, what do you mean you’re resigning?” a confused Ava asked him, “I thought you still had half your term to go.”

“I do,” Bucky spoke solemnly, “but between the politics and the team… I’ve tried this whole living-in-two-worlds thing, and it’s exhausting. I’d rather stick to what I’m good at than try to be something I’m clearly not cut out to be.”

“You could have easily just mailed in your resignation,” Ava pointed out, “So why are we here?”

“Because before I resign I want to actually accomplish something,” Bucky explained, “If I can get this bill going in the House and it passes, I’ll have done something worthwhile without having to punch or shoot anything.”

Ava said nothing, but merely nodded in acknowledgment. She was still trying to process the bombshell he had just dropped on her. She knew he had his doubts about his political future, but the last thing she expected was for him to quit before the job was done. Bucky Barnes was many things, but never a quitter. 

But Ava could also see the tiredness behind his eyes. Bucky had frequently told them he didn’t get tired out owing to the serum, but this was a different kind of tired. The one that came from discontent, from dissatisfaction, from disappointment. It was clear to her now that he wanted something more out of life than where he was right now.

Ava knew this because she too was tired. Tired of the pain. Tired of regret.

In this way, Ava and Bucky were the same.

“Besides, you wanted to come along, so…” Bucky trailed off.

Ava didn’t know what to think. She had her own reasons for coming, try as she might to distract herself with music and food and conversation from the inevitable pain. But for now, those reasons would remain her own. 

Like she had told Bucky earlier, she wanted to maintain what little privacy she had left. Bucky probably already knew why Ava chose to come down here, and it's probably why he indulged her in the first place. But if he did know, he didn’t say anything. He was too goddamn chivalrous and considerate to do anything else that it kind of pissed her off.

Without another word, Bucky left the kitchen for his office, probably intending to go over his proposal and make any last minute adjustments before Congress met tomorrow. Ava shuffled her feet up the carpeted stairs, dragging her suitcase behind her. Rather than go into Bucky’s bedroom immediately, she thought it prudent to get some of her clothes ready for the next few days.

Ava walked into the laundry room and dumped the contents of her suitcase all over the table. She had done such a haphazard job of packing this morning that nearly everything was wrinkled and she was almost certain that she was missing the other half of several pairs of socks. Ava sighed at the mess.

“Guess I’ll get started, then,” Ava spoke to herself, taking a deep breath.

It took her the better part of an hour to sort through all her things and iron out the wrinkles. Good news is that she had enough clothes for the next week. 

But Ava had to pause a moment when she came across a black dress of hers she owned. She was never really a dress person, even before the accident kept her in that cage of a suit, but Ava remembers Yelena persuading her to get something for the occasions when they needed to be more… subtle than their regular suits would allow. Whether this meant for missions or for public appearances that Ava refused to attend on principle, she didn’t care.

The dress wasn’t fancy in any way. No silks, no lace, no low cuts, just ordinary cotton of modest appearance and appropriate length. If she were a white collar worker it would pass for business attire, but otherwise it looked like something that one might wear at a funeral. 

How appropriate.

Ava set the dress aside, resisting the urge to tear it to shreds, and once she’d finished with her other clothes exited the laundry room and headed downstairs. She pulled her cheesecake from the fridge, grabbed a fork, and plopped herself down on Bucky’s sofa. She kicked off her boots and took off her jacket, folding the latter up into a makeshift headrest. She grabbed the TV remote next to her and started flipping through the channels on Bucky’s flatscreen, looking for anything that would take her mind off things.

What things, exactly? Even Ava didn’t know for sure at this point. Was it her plans for tomorrow? Was it her nightmares courtesy of the Void? Was it fear of Valentina eventually outmaneuvering them? Was it the ever-present anxiety of her condition getting bad again? Was it the voice in the back of her mind telling her she didn’t deserve to be alive, nevermind a hero? Was it that annoyingly-cheerful waitress back in Pennsylvania that called her “hon” and said she and Bucky looked like a couple?

She said “pair,” not “couple.” Why are you thinking of “couple,” you absolute tosser? 

Ava had to force all her energy into each press of the remote. Her damned mind was all over the place and she hated it. Damn her brain, damn her condition, and damn Bucky Barnes for being so goddamn perfect.

Bucky…

After about an hour of mindless scrolling, her cheesecake sitting neglected next to her, Ava’s mind suddenly shifted back into focus, and for whatever reason decided that she couldn’t trust herself to keep herself distracted. She needed Bucky.

She hated the way that sounded in her head.

With a grace and speed that came with assassin training, Ava practically leapt up the staircase until she was outside of Bucky’s door. She was prepared to knock, but then remembered if she was to remain cursed in her molecularly unstable state, she could walk through any wall or closed door she pleased. Posh English manners be damned.

Ava phased her head through Bucky’s door and looked around his office, admittedly as barren as the rest of the house, until she saw him sitting at his desk hunched over at his computer. But rather than plugging away at his bill, Ava saw he had his face buried in his hands. He wasn’t crying, in fact he wasn’t making any noise apart from sharp, steady breathing. It was rather unsettling.

Ava suddenly became frightened by her own brazen disregard for his privacy, and once again admonished herself for being a hypocrite. She didn’t know if he had heard her or not, but she wasn’t going to take the chance.

She pulled her head back through the door, paused for a moment, then knocked on it gently. Not two seconds later did Bucky crack the door open, gazing at her with those magnificently blue eyes of his. How could this same body have housed those icy, grey eyes she remembers from when they first met in a dirty little basement off the grid somewhere?

“Yes?” he asked in the most neutral tone possible, as if she hadn’t invaded his privacy a moment ago.

“I, er…” Ava stammered, her steel focus now mush once more. But in a moment she collected herself, and then stated with resoluteness and firmness:

“Come watch a movie with me.”

Bucky blinked. Ava had meant to ask him but she was afraid he’d say no, so she did the traditionally selfish thing of her and demanded like she was a spoiled child. But now she was afraid she had been too assertive and just buggered the whole thing for herself.

“What are we watching?” asked Bucky, no hesitation or second-guessing whatsoever.

Ava was stunned. She hadn’t buggered the whole thing after all. Now she just needed to think of an answer.

“Ever see Monty Python and the Holy Grail? ” Ava asked, pulling from memory her favorite comedy from when she was a kid. Not her favorite movie of all time (it was a three-way tie between Raiders of the Lost Ark, Pretty Woman, and Guys & Dolls ), but certainly her favorite comedy. 

“Who’s Monty Python?” a perplexed Bucky asked. Ava realized this was a recipe for something beautiful, and without hesitation she yanked Bucky’s vibranium hand, somehow managed to pull a super soldier down the stairs, and practically threw him on the couch as she opened up the streaming guide and found the classic on Netflix.

“You are going to absolutely love this!” Ava said with excitement as she plopped herself down next to him, her mind abuzz with being able to share something she was passionate about with someone else for a change. She doesn’t know what prompted it, but she didn’t care whatsoever. She was going to show Holy Grail to Bucky even if it killed her.

Bucky seemed to take it in stride. He didn’t say anything, didn’t protest, but let an excited Ava pull up the movie as he made himself comfortable on the couch. 

The movie began playing, and the main titles crossed the screen, and that’s when Bucky picked to speak up.

“So what’s this movie a-” he had started to say, but Ava, so overcome with excitement and adrenaline, grabbed his vibranium hand once more and shushed him louder than he’d been speaking. 

The movie continued. Ava could tell Bucky was confused by the absurdity of it all to start, but refused to say anything about it or let him talk over it. When the scene with the Black Knight had finished, she glanced over and saw he had the most confused expression on his face she’d seen on him to date. If she had a camera she’d have taken a picture of this moment and shown it to everyone back at the Watchtower.

Ava didn’t even realize she was still holding onto Bucky’s metal hand.

Things continued, the two of them laughed, and Bucky started to really get into it. But shortly after the Tale of Sir Lancelot sequence, that excited adrenaline that had carried Ava to this point began to dissipate from her as quickly as it had come. When they got to the Bridge of Death scene, her eyes began to droop, exhausted from the travel of the day and her constantly-fluctuating mind.

Ava fought hard to stay awake, but in the end, the last things she remembered were feeling her arms wrapping around something cold, metal, and firm, and Terry Gilliam’s voice bellowing “What… is your favorite color?”

The dream was different this time, but still all too familiar. Antonia Dreykov was not here, thank Christ. This time she’s back in Argentina, the day everything went wrong. Her father was screaming at them to get away, and they almost did.

Ava didn’t need the Void to replay the events of that day. The images were always too fresh in her mind. It was the last memory she had before the pain began. 

If only she had done as she was told. If only her mother had kept a stronger grip on the stupid child’s hand. There was another future where Ava Starr grew up distraught over her father’s death when his quantum tunnel exploded, but her mother had been there to help her. Her pain would only be that of grief from loss, not from regret or torture or experimentation or murder or her molecules tearing themselves apart and stitching them back together. Elihas Starr was dead no matter what, but Catherine Starr could have lived. And Ava could have remained human.

One moment of misplaced, childish heroism caused more hurt to herself and others than if she had just run.

Now she had no choice. She had to keep running.

Running.

Running.

Running.

Ava woke up with a start, cold sweat once again clinging to her skin as she quickly bolted herself up and started heaving heavy breaths.

She could feel it. The pain. Janet had stabilized her, kept her from dying, gave her control of her phasing and made it painless. But it was always there, that phantom pain. That dull ache just beneath the surface. Always threatening to come back and tear her apart all over again. That’s why she still had the suit, it gave her greater control and kept the pain at bay. 

She had to remind herself that she wasn’t dying, she was still alive. That she wasn’t actually a ghost.

Bucky didn’t remember, how could he? That name had been chosen for her by the Major. That evil sadomasochist son of a bitch. He and Satan deserved each other, along with the rest of Hydra.

That’s truly why she hated the name Ghost. Ava could not understand how Bucky, after all he’d been through, had willingly chosen to go back to the Winter Soldier name. What redemption was there? What heroism was there to aspire to? To hell with what Yelena said now, she had been right to begin with when she said Ava was a terrible person. She lied and she stole and she killed, all of her own freewill.

As Ava let her head fall back down onto the pillows, she stared up at the blank ceiling. She wasn’t worthy of anyone’s help. Not Janet’s, not Yelena’s, not Bucky’s…

Ava cut her own racing thoughts short when she realized that she had laid down on pillows. There were no pillows on Bucky’s couch. In fact, this didn’t even feel like Bucky’s couch.

She bolted herself upward again and looked around her. She was lying in a soft queen-sized bed, tucked under covers, and with far too many pillows than was normal - but just the amount she liked. How on earth did she get here?

Did Bucky carry her to bed and then tuck her in?

Her eyes couldn’t make out anything in the darkness, but as soon as she turned on the bedside lamp she saw a picture sitting on the bedside table.

It was a black-and-white photograph, with scribbling on the corner that read Paris, 30 August ‘44.

In the photograph were a group of seven men in uniform. At the center was Captain America- not the current one, or the dime store variety she regrettably was on the same team as, but Steve Rogers himself in his original spangly uniform sans mask. And next to him…

His hair was short, his eyes looked less hollow and were full of life, and his face was beaming with a smile that probably was the end of many a fair maiden back in his day or something. It goes without saying that in this he had two arms, and the left hand was gripping the barrel of his Thompson submachine gun. Always in battle, it seemed, but not always at war.

Ava was brought out of this new discovery by the sounds of anguished crying from below. She knew that sound, she’d heard it before.

And now, she resolved to do something about it. He had carried her to bed after all, it was the least she could do now.

She quickly darted out of bed, carefully tiptoed out the door and through the hall, and quietly went downstairs and looked into the living room.

Bucky was lying on the floor, a pillow underneath his head and a blanket covering him overtop, as he sobbed in his sleep into the carpet. Ava saw his clothes strewn out on the floor, and he was wearing nothing but his underwear and his dogtags that clinked together from time to time.

Ava’s stomach did somersaults as she quietly approached Bucky, but as she did, his movements got more erratic like he was ready to fight something or someone.

“Please no…” he cried out in his sleep, “You don’t have to…”

Ava was just about to reach out and try to comfort Bucky, or at the very least wake him up, when she froze at what he said next.

“Ava… Don’t touch her… Don’t touch Ava…”

That was enough to make Ava run once again. Like she should have all along. Like the coward she truly was. 

Once again, Bucky needed her help. But once again, Ava failed him.

She ran back up the stairs, closed the door, and dove back under the covers, a numbness overcoming her as she tried to fall back asleep.

She remembers when they met. She remembers how they fought. She remembers how she shot him with his own gun and he had broken her arm and a few ribs. She remembers that look of hesitation and regret he had before their fight, and she had always wondered if then, in that moment, there was a piece of James Buchanan Barnes that had broken through Hydra’s programming. 

Now she had her answer.

The Void had shown the both of them all of that. What it did not show was what had happened almost as soon as the fight had ended, the part Ava had repressed deep down and the part she now knew that Bucky remembered.

The Major had attempted to strike at Ava while she was vulnerable after the fight, wrapped up in his sick fantasies of pain like he was. 

The Winter Soldier broke free and nearly killed him. Beat him to within an inch of his life, the titanium arm all but pulverizing his face.

Alexander Pierce’s trigger words could not stop him. It was only after a dozen taser shots and a heavy sedative did the Winter Soldier stop his rampage. Ava never saw the Major again after that.

The reason the Void had not shown them this part was because Ava had nothing to regret. For the first time since she’d met Bill Foster in the orphanage, someone had protected her.

Ava realized Bucky Barnes had nothing to regret about it either. She didn’t know how and she didn’t know why, but in a moment of pure rage and seething pain, the Winter Soldier was gone.

Bucky had been free.

Chapter Text

Bucky had no idea how he’d gotten himself into this.

One minute he had been in his office, trying - and failing - to add anything substantive to his bill, and then the next he let Ava drag his 110-year-old ass downstairs to watch a movie.

Sure he participated in the movie nights at the Watchtower, usually something that Bob picked out because Yelena let him (much to the frustration of Walker and Alexei) so he could remain happy, but on the whole he wasn’t a big movie guy. In his day the stars were Clark Gable and Ingrid Bergman and Jimmy Cagney and Greta Garbo. Nowadays the stars seemed to be special effects and about a hundred digital streaming platforms he felt cheapened the experience. 

He did like Jaws, though.

But for whatever reason, when Ava asked him to watch this old comedy movie with her (though she didn’t exactly ask him, did she?), Bucky readily agreed.

Road trips, lunches, movies, their little heart-to-hearts… he realized he was indulging her a lot. And the strangest part? He didn’t mind in the least.

The movie itself had been funny enough he supposed (though he felt like Ava deliberately chose this one purely to see how he’d react to the Black Knight getting his limbs chopped off), but the thing that took up Bucky’s attention the most was the way she was unconsciously holding his vibranium hand, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Bucky had long gotten used to only having the one arm, and much more readily had accepted Shuri’s gift to him than the horrific and heavy titanium appendage that Zola had grafted onto his stump. But he still never felt quite comfortable having it out for the world to see. Part of him wanted to say that was because he thought people still saw him as Hydra’s assassin, but while that may be true to some extent, his biggest fear is that people would see him as a cripple.

Super soldier serum and a highly-advanced robotic prosthesis didn’t change the fact Bucky felt incomplete.

But Ava didn’t seem to care about any of that, she held it like it was the hand God gave him.

Bucky remembers back to three months ago when they had all fought Bob when he’d been in full-blown Sentry mode. Bucky had gotten his ass knocked out and Bob had torn the vibranium arm off, tossing them both to the side like nothing. He faintly remembers Walker and Alexei picking him up as they hightailed it out of there, but Ava had remembered to grab the arm before they fled.

He remembers when he regained consciousness that Ava had been in front of him, still gripping it by the hand. She had almost walked off with it before he’d awkwardly motioned for it back, and she gave it back so casually, though not without some hesitation on her end. It’s like it wasn’t a guy’s robot arm but was instead like Bucky dropped his car keys and Ava was just helping him out. Considering the day’s events it was the most normal thing that had happened.

Bucky was too embarrassed to admit it, but that had been the first time a girl held his hand since 1943.

That last night in New York had been the last time. He hadn’t had any time when he was shipped off to England, and once he went to the front… well, time had a way of escaping from him, to put it mildly.

He’d tried the online dating thing. Even tried making things work with Leah for a time. But in the end they decided to remain friends. And throughout it all, there was no hand holding, not even with the one he still had.

So yes, Ava Starr was technically the first girl to hold his hand in 84 years.

(And no, Shuri didn’t count since she only built the thing, neither did that blue alien who was friends with the raccoon who had stolen it while he was sleeping, but that's another story.)

If he ever mentioned that fact aloud, he’d probably die of embarrassment. Yelena and Walker would bust his chops to no end, Alexei and Bob would try (and fail) to say it wasn’t the end of the world, and Ava… well he didn’t know if it was right to put her on the spot like that anyway.

But the fact remained that not only had Ava been the first girl to hold his hand in decades, but she had done it again, completely unfazed by the fact it was cold metal she was gripping onto.

Was she even aware she had been doing it?

Further complicating things was later on when Ava dozed off shortly before the movie ended, and Bucky had felt the weight of her body shift towards him. He looked over and saw she had now wrapped both her arms around the metal appendage, and her head was resting against his shoulder.

To say Bucky’s face went red would be redundant considering all the times that happened today. Now his face felt so hot it was like he’d been on the receiving end of a flamethrower.

And that had actually happened once or twice.

Long story short, Ava was now snuggling up against him, and Bucky felt his body go rigid. He could hardly breathe at that moment, nevermind pay attention to the ending of the movie. He might have heard police sirens or something but didn’t know if that was the movie or his own mental alarm system going off. 

Bucky had planned countless missions in his life. First as an NCO, then assassinations that were forced onto him, and now as an Avenger. He was now in full-blown panic mode and had no idea what to do. 

“Mmm…” an unconscious Ava murmured in her sleep, seemingly content, and Bucky’s panic only increased. He didn’t know what would be worse; waking Ava up and risking her wrath, or not waking her up and letting her continue to dream about… whatever she was dreaming about.

Yep, Ava Starr was definitely going to be the death of him.

Either way, Bucky knew he couldn’t stay like this indefinitely, so very gently he eased Ava’s grip on his arm, caught her head before she had a chance to fall, then slowly and gently picked her up off the couch. Even without the super soldier serum aiding him, Bucky could feel how light she was, and he was afraid that if he dropped her she would break like a little china doll.

No, she wouldn’t break, Bucky reminds himself. Ava’s made of sterner stuff.

Bucky gingerly carried Ava out of the living room, and was careful to avoid whacking her against anything as he brought her up the stairwell into his bedroom. The door to his room was partially ajar, so he gently lifted his leg and kicked the door the rest of the way open.

It wasn’t lost on Bucky that he’d been carrying Ava bridal-style across the threshold to his bedroom, her head still nuzzled against his shoulder. If any of the team - hell, anybody in general - could see this right now, Bucky would drown himself in the Potomac within the hour. 

But Bucky steeled his thoughts and tried letting it turn to something else. He remembered way back in the day, his little sister Rebecca stayed up to listen to the Little Orphan Annie radio show, and every now and again she’d fall asleep in their dad’s armchair in the living room. Bucky would have to carry his sister to bed since he was often the last one awake, always mindful of the creaking stairs, and tucked her in her little cot.

Well, once that memory crossed his mind, his embarrassment certainly went away. It was now replaced with grief. He missed his family, but most of all he missed Rebecca. Sweet, innocent Rebecca.

He would never know how she reacted to the news of his “death.” He never got the chance to see her grow up, start a career, have a loving family, and die peacefully surrounded by the people she loved. He knew that when he enlisted to fight the Nazis that there was always the risk he’d never come back home, but he never once figured that he would outlive everything and everyone he ever cared about.

That was another regret the Void had shown him, one he hadn’t remotely prepared himself for seeing.

If there was one positive to the whole experience, it was that Bucky was able to further separate himself from the Winter Soldier, and he stopped blaming himself to the extent he did for the things Hydra made him do.

Only problem was that it made him remember all the things that Bucky Barnes did wrong of his own freewill.

And he did a lot wrong.

His racing thoughts were interrupted by more murmuring from the sleeping Ava in his arms, and Bucky’s focus returned in a flash. He laid her down gently on the overly-soft mattress, pulled the covers over her and tucked her in, just like he did with Rebecca. He didn’t know the full extent of Ava’s condition and wanted her to be as comfortable as possible, so he grabbed some more pillows from his closet and carefully placed them under her head and her back.

Throughout all of this, Ava’s slumber remained uninterrupted. Bucky couldn’t help but feel impressed with himself for his flawless execution. But as he continued to watch Ava’s peaceful, sleeping form, Bucky found it increasingly harder to tear his gaze away from her, all tucked in and secure and safe like she was.

This had been a very long and tiring day, as were most of them, but this one especially. He found himself sharing more about himself than he’d shared with anyone in a very long time.

And some things he hadn’t shared with anyone ever. Not even Steve.

By this point, he trusted Ava. He hasn’t known her for very long, but he felt that the connection between them strengthen in a very short amount of time. Considering how they’d met, it was a wonder how they were here now together, as teammates, friends…

Bucky’s mind went back to Rebecca, and he wondered if how he was feeling about Ava was like that. Like she was a surrogate sister of sorts, bonded with him through shared trauma and comradeship. But even as he considered the possibility, there was something that didn’t feel quite right about that. Not so much that he felt Ava could never replace Rebecca - and no one ever could - but thinking of Ava as a sister just wasn’t… enough.

Yelena he could consider a sister. Of the rest of the team, she was the only one who was brainwashed like him so they could relate on that level. As co-leaders of the New Avengers, they had a great rapport and communication, and she wasn’t bad company to have. They even spoke in Russian with each other from time to time. But it wasn’t the same, not like how he was feeling for Ava. With Ava, there was something else. Something more.

It wasn’t like Bucky hadn’t considered that… other possibility … either. He was only a man after all so it was only natural. But he knew it would be foolish to jump to that conclusion, especially so early in things between them.

But there wasn’t anything between them, was there? They’d only known each other, actually known each other, for the past three months, and even that was more of a platonic workplace relationship than anything else.

Bucky knew that he cared about Ava, and he believed that was because they understood each other in a way that very few people - if anyone - could. But he didn’t know if that care indicated something else about how he felt about her.

Admittedly, Ava had many qualities that Bucky liked. She was smart, attractive, honest, dependable, a good fighter, a great listener and more mature than he’d given her credit for. He also had quite a few good laughs with her today as well, and Bucky can’t remember the last time he enjoyed himself like that.

But Bucky knew it would be wrong to dive headfirst into this. He had to remind himself that he hadn’t had any steady relationships with women since before the war. That was a lot of time spent out of practice, and he didn’t know if what he felt was genuine or if he’d just been without reliable companionship for so long he was latching onto the first girl who talked with him for more than five minutes and held his hand like they were schoolchildren.

Probably more important than that was how Ava felt about all this. He wasn’t going to wake her and ask her just now, but Bucky didn’t know how to interpret their interactions on this trip of theirs. Maybe she didn’t want any relationship at all, and that was completely valid given everything she’d been through.

But Bucky’s mind goes back to the way she latched onto his arm, that contented look of peace on her face and the way his heart started beating uncontrollably at her touch.

No, he couldn’t focus on the base emotions. If Bucky had been out of practice when it came to connections, Ava never had the chance in her life. 

Maybe Ava held his hand because she was just touch-starved after so many years alone, unloved, and in pain. Maybe she just wanted companionship for a change. That was the most likely thing, the logical part of Bucky’s messed up brain was telling him. 

Besides, even if Ava did want something more than friendship with him, Bucky didn’t know if it would be right. Growing up in a lab being tortured and experimented on by Hydra scientists didn’t do well for building social skills or emotional maturity. She had no experience (as far as he knew) and Bucky absolutely would not take advantage of her naivete like that and force anything. If he did, then he’d ask Walker to shoot him between the eyes.

But even still, when it came to Ava Starr there was something about her that drew Bucky in like a moth to a flame. It wasn’t just a matter of personality but of spirit. There was a fire to her, something he didn't think he’d ever seen before.

Or rather, it was something that Bucky had never felt before.

When he was with her, he felt seen . He didn’t feel like a failure or a weapon or an incomplete man. He felt… whole. He felt like-

“James,” escaped from Ava’s lips like an ethereal whisper. Bucky’s legs instantly turned to jelly, his throat became drier than the desert, and he thought he was experiencing the early warning signs of a heart attack. He was hoping that the last part was true.

Ava did not wake, but a contented smile flashed across her face as she turned on her side under the covers. Bucky continued to stand in place, slack jawed and dumbstruck, as his mind kept repeating the way she’d said his name. His real name.

Bucky had never felt comfortable with the name James. The only people he could tolerate saying that name were his mother, his priest, and Steve. Oh, and Sam too he supposed, if he would ever speak to him again.

The way she spoke his Christian name, in that gentle whisper, in that velvety, posh English accent he couldn’t seem to get enough of, and with such tenderness in her voice…

Well, Ava Starr had certainly now made the list. That’s all Bucky could allow himself to think before he combusted. 

Somehow there was enough blood left in his head to become aware that he’d overstayed his welcome in his own bedroom. Bucky somehow managed to move his jelly-filled legs to his closet, grabbed a pillow and blanket, and quickly and quietly made his way out of the bedroom before he just collapsed on the floor in front of her.

Bucky made it to the living room and immediately started pulling his clothes off. Who the hell had cranked up the temperature in his house while he was away? It was the only explanation for why he felt so ungodly hot right now.

When he was down to his skivvies and his dog tags - which he vowed would never leave his body even when he was dead - he did his best to make himself comfortable on the floor next to the couch, his mind still ablaze and alert with excitement and terror.

Bucky didn’t know what this meant for them. For him. He was transfixed on the way Ava had said his name, that look of contentment on her face as she dreamed blissful dreams in ways he could only imagine. Had that been what she truly felt? About him? Had his own feelings about her been valid all along?

He had to remind himself that they were down here in DC on business. He with Congress, she with… personal affairs. It would be wildly inappropriate to go any further with this than it had already gone, at least for the moment.

Maybe when they were done here, they could discuss it. Maybe they could find the answer they were both looking for.

Bucky spent the longest time trying to force himself to sleep that eventually he got exhausted from the effort and started to drift off. As he did, he kept replaying the gentle way Ava had said his name, remembering the sensation he felt from them holding hands, feeling that piece of him that came alive when he heard her laugh, recalling all the details about her from her smile to her hair to her skin to her accent to her eyes… those brilliant, emerald green eyes…

The dreams used to be of Siberia. Of cryostasis. Of the trigger words that Zola drilled into his skull. Of the titanium arm Bullski designed and grafted onto him. Of the training and the wounds and the brainwashing and the torture. He remembers Fennhoff, Karpov, Pierce, countless others speaking those words to him and chipping away at his soul for decades, all for the glory of Hydra. He remembers Howard and Maria Stark. He remembers Yori Nakajima’s son. He remembers all of them.

But this was not that dream. It was not that time, not that place, not that enemy, not that war. It was not the Winter Soldier at all.

It was Italy.

No Hydra. No brainwashing. No serum. No arm. No Captain America and his Howling Commandos.

It was just plain old Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, serial number 32557038, 107th Infantry Regiment, Allied Expeditionary Force.

It was the day he died.

Decades of Hydra’s control and brainwashing had buried this memory and replaced it with arguably more horrific ones, but the Void had brought it back to the forefront, as clear and as painful as when it happened.

But there was something else, something he remembered he hadn’t realized he already remembered.

A pair of brilliant green eyes, staring up at him with hurt and fear and anguish. Innocent eyes, a girl’s eyes…

The dream shifted. There had been moments where Hydra’s programming hadn’t been perfect, and the real him had been able to seep through, but prior to Project Insight there was only one time he had actually regained control.

In that dingy little basement, with a nineteen-year-old girl dressed in a clunky white suit, watching her flicker between realities like a candle in the wind, her face filled with terror as the Winter Soldier bore down upon her. 

But he’d frozen in place when he saw her eyes. The Winter Soldier had looked into the eyes of countless victims of his, but this was different. They were green. They were beautiful. They were innocent.

They were hers.

He had no control over himself when Pierce ordered him to fight her, and he did so with the same ruthless efficiency he always used until she had phased through him, snatched the pistol in his back belt, and shot him in the chest at point blank range.

He’d collapsed onto the floor, barely eliciting a grunt even with a bullet lodged in his chest, as the girl who had just shot him had the pistol trained on him as she managed to rip off her mask with a broken arm. He could see the cuts and bruises and terror he had inflicted on her, but not once did she look like she’d pull the trigger again.

And for some reason, the Winter Soldier made no move to stop her.

The Major, however, did. He stepped forward and snatched the pistol from her grip, then turned the weapon on its side as he prepared to strike the girl, with the most repulsive and malicious look Bucky had ever seen in that monster’s eyes. 

The Winter Soldier had lunged up from the ground despite his wound and tackled the Major to the ground. A bullet was fired into the ceiling, and the Winter Soldier grabbed hold of the Major’s arm holding the pistol and snapped it like a twig. There was a howl of pain, followed by a furious Pierce’s voice ordering him to stand down.

He began repeating the trigger words. Longing, rusted, seventeen, daybreak… but they didn’t work this time. Hydra’s programming had failed. Bucky was free.

He raised his titanium fist back and delivered the full force of it into the Major’s face. He broke his jaw instantly, dangerously close to ripping it from his skull. He raised the arm back again, and delivered another blow, each time turning the Major’s face from something barely human into an unrecognizable bloody mess.

Again.

Again.

Again.

Bucky had been consumed with a rage like he’d never known, before or since. The first time he had control in so many years and his heart felt nothing but hatred and contempt for the monster before him. He wanted him to suffer and to die for all the suffering he’d inflicted, especially on that poor, innocent, terrified girl who stood frozen in terror as she watched the scene unfold. 

The Major wouldn’t touch that girl ever again.

He felt massive surges of electricity through his body, the pain of which was so intense he didn’t know whether he’d delivered the killing blow on that evil bastard or not. The pain was then followed by a feeling of sudden drowsiness, but not before he stole one last glance up at the girl standing in the corner of the room, her green eyes being the last thing he saw before Hydra put his brain back in the blender once more.

Bucky had broken free. He protected that girl. 

But he had not known why.

Bucky woke up panting heavily, sweat clinging to every part of his body, pooling into the open cracks of his vibranium arm, and his eyes quickly scanned the living room, looking out for any and all threats. He was on high alert now.

He quickly bolted up, reached for a .38 revolver he kept tucked under the couch, went to check all the windows and doors on the bottom floor, and his breathing eased up when he saw all entrances were locked and blinds were closed. 

Bucky glanced at the clock on the microwave in his kitchen. It was only a little past four thirty in the morning. He slept in for a change, he realized with a rueful smile.

He sauntered on back over to the living room, getting his breathing under control like Dr. Raynor had taught him as he sat down on the couch and heaved a heavy sigh. He had calmed himself down enough now and ran his hand down his face. It was only then Bucky felt more moisture on his face, and that his eyes felt puffy and swollen. 

Goddammit, he’d been crying in his sleep again. Hopefully it hadn’t been too loud, the last thing he wanted to do was wake Ava up this early.

Ava…

Bucky quickly bolted up from the couch, the revolver still in his grip, as he moved carefully up the stairs, only just now realizing he forgot to check the upstairs to make sure she was alright.

He opened the bedroom door, and saw Ava had buried herself under the covers. At least she was here and she was safe. No one was coming to hurt her. Not this time.

Bucky needed to do something more to calm himself down. He recognized he wasn’t in a decent state, and quickly made his way over to his closet and pulled out a pair of sweatpants, a sweatshirt, and running shoes. Maybe after an early morning run he could sort through all the chaos in his head.

He stole a glance at Ava’s sleeping form before he closed the door behind him. He couldn’t see her face at that moment, and for that he was grateful. He didn’t know where to begin with her and didn’t know how his mind would take it if he saw her eyes again right now.

Bucky quickly put the gun away, dressed himself, stretched, walked out his front door and locked it firmly behind him. Ava should be safe, at least until he gets back from his run. 

And then… then they would talk.

As Bucky pulled his hood of his sweatshirt up and started his run, the thoughts from yesterday and from his dreams came surging back all at once. 

He never realized why he’d broken free that day. The day he met Ava Starr, fought her, then protected her from the Major. 

But now he realized why. The Void and his dreams made it clear to him again. So many jumbled and lost memories now came to the surface, and he remembered.

He had remembered what happened in Italy. He remembered what he did. He had never shared it with another living soul, not even Steve. 

And it was at this moment Bucky realized that no matter what his true feelings were about Ava, he would protect her at all costs. From danger, from fear, from pain, from self-doubt, from loneliness, from herself… 

He would always protect her.

Chapter Text

Ava didn’t know if she’d actually fallen back asleep or not. This happened sometimes back when her pain had been unbearable and all she could do was keep her eyes shut tight until the next day when one of the scientists or the Major or some other handler came to fetch her for whatever twisted thing they needed from her next.

Good news is that during these times the nightmares stopped, replaced instead by a cold numbness that was almost comforting. However, Ava was far from comfortable right now, even with all the pillows and blankets that Bucky had given her.

Bucky.

All he had to do was say her name, and Ava turned into that same coward who did whatever Pierce or Valentina told her, her soul be damned. She should have helped him. She should have done something other than run away again like she always did.

Like she ran away from Bill.

Ava just wanted to lie in this bed, wrap the comforter around herself as tight as possible, bury her head into a pillow, and just fade away into nothingness like she should have years ago.

She also wanted Bucky to kick the door in and come to her side and comfort her and tell her everything was alright and that all was forgiven. For the running, for the killing, for the pain…

But Ava knew she didn’t deserve forgiveness or comfort. She had made her choices long ago, all from her selfish desire to live and get rid of her pain. If there was anyone deserving of comfort or kindness, it was Bucky. He didn’t do anything wrong, it was all Hydra. Hell, the man had been a World War II hero. He fought the Nazis alongside Captain America and helped save the world several times. It didn’t matter what Hydra did or made him do; every opportunity he had to do something good in this world, Bucky took it.

Like when he protected her from the Major. Even if Ava still did not know how he had broken his programming. But she now knew he remembered.

Eventually, light started to peer in through the bedroom window, and Ava couldn’t keep her eyes shut any longer. She practically forced herself awake and slowly sat up, taking a moment to collect herself before she scanned the interior of Bucky’s bedroom. 

Much like the rest of the house, the walls and carpet were a sterile white coloring without character. If Ava weren’t wallowing about in self-pity at that moment, she’d probably acknowledge how depressing it all looked.

But that’s not to say that the room itself was completely devoid of character. Ava looked over on the bedside table she’d seen the night before. Sitting there was the picture of Captain America and his Howling Commandos she’d seen before, along with some others she hadn’t noticed.

A more recent picture of himself (with shorter hair) and Sam Wilson out by some harbor, probably a bayou. She hadn’t yet met the current Captain America but she could tell even from this that he and Bucky were close - recent circumstances aside.

A faded black-and-white picture of himself in a Depression era suit-and-tie standing next to what looked at first like a young kid, but upon closer observation Ava could see it was pre-serum Steve Rogers, about a head shorter than Bucky and roughly 10 stone thinner; the contrast with the Paris photograph was quite striking.

And a very faded oval-shaped pocket frame of a young girl in a dress, probably no older than 11 or 12 years old when this was taken. Ava tore her gaze away before she could think too deeply about who this was, or what she meant to Bucky.

Her eyes settled on the picture of the Howling Commandos again, and Ava reached out and grabbed it. She propped herself up against the headboard, and started to take a closer look.

For certain, James Montgomery Falsworth was the most dashing looking of the bunch, but Ava wonders if she might be biased because he was the only British-born member of their little group, something she could relate to being on a superhero team otherwise made up of Americans and Russians. Not that she held particular stock in her British origins, but it was something she was self-conscious of every now and again.

Ava shifted her focus back on Bucky, looking at that face that had yet to experience all that pain and regret that Hydra put him through. But while he was smiling and looked more put together than she’d ever known him to be, there was something behind his eyes that seemed… troubled. Forced, even.

Of course, Ava readily assumed it was the stress of war. He’d been fighting in Europe against the Nazis and Hydra for well over a year, and this photograph was taken mere days after the Allies liberated France from Axis control. That hadn’t been an easy fight whether it was Hydra with their Tesseract weapons or just regular German forces hellbent on controlling Europe. 

Ava would have just left it at that had she not decided to take a look at Bucky’s original arm again out of pure curiosity, and then saw the scars covering the knuckles on his left hand. He’d been gripping the barrel of his Thompson tightly so it was hard to make out in the photo, but the scars were there. Like he had broken his hand hitting something over and over again with tremendous force and wouldn’t stop.

Something Ava had seen before. 

Ava set the picture back down on the bedside table, then looked over to see that Bucky’s bedroom closet was left open for some reason and there was a glint that had caught the sunlight from outside. She carefully got out of the bed, walked over, and saw the source of the glint.

It was Bucky’s uniform. That olive drab service dress she’d seen in a hundred war movies, shiny buttons and ribbons and sergeant’s stripes and all. Bucky had said he’d received more than a few Purple Hearts… all with oak leaf clusters, it seemed. She saw others too. Campaign medals, marksmanship badges, the Victory Medal, two Silver Stars, the Distinguished Service Cross… 

Bucky had seen and done a lot. Too much, even.

Ava liked to give Walker a hard time over how much he talked ad nauseum about his Army service, but she did understand that these decorations weren’t just given away. Those in service had to earn it. Sergeant Barnes was no exception.

Ava knew Bucky had been a hero during the war, more than she could ever hope to be. But she never really appreciated what that must’ve meant for him, all the sacrifices and hardships and privations he had to endure long before Hydra got their tentacles on him. What sort of effect that had to have had on his mind.

What she saw in that photograph from 1944 was the same look she could see in him now, every time he’d put up that tough guy exterior and charge into the fray. Bucky was perhaps the bravest person she’d ever met, and Ava could still see him hiding that doubt and fear behind stoic silence.

Maybe there was more than the Winter Soldier that troubled Bucky Barnes.

Ava’s thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a door handle turning, and she quickly whipped her head in the direction of the door frame as Bucky stepped through, both of them taken by surprise.

“Oh, you’re up already!” Bucky said, the pitch of his voice seeming higher than usual, “Sorry about that, I didn’t realize you were… w-well, I mean I could’ve guessed that you were but I… I should’ve knocked but I didn’t want to wake you or any…”

Bucky was tripping over his words as he seemed flustered, out of breath. Ava could see sweat clinging to his face and hair, as well as the grey hoodie he was wearing. His focus seemed just a bit erratic, but he also seemed full of energy and alive.

“You know what? Nevermind,” Bucky said, “Breakfast should be ready in about five minutes. If you’re hungry, that is.”

Ava just blinked at the sight before her. After last night, there were too many thoughts running through her head about how the next day would look, but she hadn’t expected this.

“Who are you and what the bloody hell have you done with Bucky Barnes?” Ava asked him, to which Bucky smiled and gave a nervous chuckle. Bucky didn’t give nervous chuckles. He gave grunts and low laughs.

“Just went for an early morning run is all. I think I set a new record for myself, did about 22 miles in under an hour. Feelin’ pretty good at the moment. Pretty hungry too. Anyway, five minutes,” Bucky got out quickly, then closed the door behind him. 

After last night, the last thing Ava expected was Bucky to be in a good mood. The guy never really had good moods anyway, but now he seemed… chipper, for lack of a better word. It was a bit of a tonal whiplash what with all the negative thoughts Ava was having about herself, and after seeing the state of him just a few hours before.

Something was definitely off here.

Regardless, Ava felt her stomach growl and decided she could do with a spot of breakfast anyway, even if a part of her just wanted to crawl back under the covers and disappear.

Ava saw she was still in the same clothes as yesterday, and wondered if she could get a quick shower in before breakfast. She exited the bedroom and took in the scent of cooking meat coming from downstairs, and decided that she could wait just a bit longer.

Ava went downstairs and peaked her head into the kitchen, where Bucky looked to be having the time of his life as he cooked sausages in a skillet while whistling Dream a Little Dream of Me. He’d changed out of his sweaty hoodie and was now wearing a white tank top and gym shorts, exposing his toned legs and arms (well, arm) for Ava to see.

Ava caught herself gazing much longer than was appropriate, and quickly darted her head away from Bucky’s impressive physique ( damned intrusive thoughts ) to see that Bucky had laid out practically a whole buffet on the kitchen island.

Orange juice, mounds of toast, grilled cherry tomatoes, beans, fried eggs, mushrooms, back bacon, grapefruit, the Full Monty. Literally.

Except Bucky had made enough of it to feed a platoon.

Bucky finished cooking up the pork bangers he had frying in the skillet and put them onto a separate plate when he took notice of Ava sticking his head in, and his face lit up like a Roman Candle.

“Ah, Ava. Right on time,” Bucky greeted her with a smile, “Help yourself to whatever you like, I’ll come join you in a second.”

Ava felt her mouth start to water at the sight before her… the food that is, not the supercentenarian super soldier chef that made it. Bucky seemed to pay it no mind as he went to the stove and put the kettle on, which if Ava had to guess she had to assume he was making tea of some sort.

She had a lot of questions, but for the moment she couldn’t articulate any of them as she piled one of the empty plates with a little bit of everything almost unconsciously. 

Ava carried her plate and a glass of orange juice over to the small, two-person dining room table next to the window. The view showed a very modest-looking backyard and dense treeline in the back, though not much else. The sky looked cloudy but there was enough light shining through that they didn’t appear completely grey.

Ava was dying to dig into her breakfast, concerns about Bucky’s oddly cheery mood besides, but was hampered by two things: one, she had forgotten to grab a knife and fork from the kitchen, and two, Bucky hadn’t yet arrived. She could still hear him in the kitchen, whistling that same song and scrubbing pots and pans in the sink. She’d considered going in to lend him a hand ( bad joke, Starr), but was afraid that her mere presence would shake him out of… well, whatever the hell this was.

Rare was the occasion where Bucky seemed genuinely happy, and Ava wasn’t going to be the one to snap him out of it, even if the whistling seemed bizarre and uncharacteristic.

Out of boredom and not wishing to seem rude by diving into her food right away, Ava reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. She wasn’t as addicted to social media like Walker or Yelena or even Bob seemed to be, so nobody would ever catch her scrolling through Instagram Reels or Tiktoks or even reading news articles. Ava just wasn’t that kind of person. Only things she really used it for were phone calls (a foreign concept, apparently), taking pictures on occasion, saving pictures and memes that Bob or Yelena would send her, and listening to her playlists on Spotify on repeat. 

She did see that her battery percentage was still low, at 4% now since she hadn’t charged it since yesterday morning. Maybe she should plug it back in before going out today, since one never knew when a call needed to be made.

Speaking of, Ava looked and saw that she had 12 missed calls and about a hundred text messages, all from the famed Red Guardian himself. Ava exhaled through her nose, not out of frustration but knowing this was Alexei’s usual deal, even if she had set her phone to “Do Not Disturb” like she had. Any time he hadn’t heard from one of them in five minutes he would spam their inboxes checking to make sure that they were alive or would participate in the next stupid magazine shoot or toy commercial or whatever.

Ava figures she should call back at some point just to let everyone at the Watchtower know she and Bucky had made it to DC safely, but she checked the time and saw it was only quarter after six in the morning - Ava never woke up this early, she realized - and didn’t want to bug anyone before they’d gotten their morning coffee.

Bucky had entered the dining room performing feats that would make circus performers envious. He held two steaming hot cups of tea in his vibranium hand, used his right arm to balance a large tray filled with his own (overloaded) plate plus some extra toast, sugar, butter, jam, etc., and in his right hand he held the Holy Grail.

Well, not actually the Holy Grail, but to Ava’s mind it was the next best thing: an oversized jar of Marmite.

From the look on Ava’s face one could swear she just died and went to British Heaven. Saints George, Andrew, and Patrick were there to greet her in the form of culinary concoctions courtesy of one James Buchanan Barnes of Brooklyn, New York.

Bucky carefully set the tea and the tray down in the middle of the table, took his plate off and set the Marmite where it had been a moment before, then picked up a knife and fork from the tray and held it out to Ava.

“You forgot these,” Bucky said in an earnest voice. Ava gingerly grabbed them from Bucky, still feeling just a bit weary about things, and then Bucky immediately went to work on his eggs.

Despite her appetite, Ava didn’t dig right in like she had at lunch yesterday. She was still a little weirded out both by Bucky’s upbeat demeanor and the fact he’d made up perhaps the most stereotypically British meal of all time just for the two of them.

Okay, so maybe Ava did like a good English Breakfast, sue her. But that was beside the point. It was just… weird. Especially the sudden shift of things.

Bucky paused as he was wolfing down his bacon only to look up and see Ava hadn’t touched a bite.

“What’s wrong?” Bucky asked with concern, “Is it the eggs? Are they undercooked?”

“No, Bucky,” Ava spoke up after realizing she’d been silent this entire time, “No, it all looks and smells delicious. It’s just…”

Ava trailed off before she could say what exactly was on her mind, because Bucky had set down his utensils, folded his hands together, and sat at attention as he focused on her.

“Go on,” Bucky encouraged rather than insisted, but Ava found herself unable to continue, transfixed as she was on those baby blue eyes of his, looking at her like she was the only person in the world.

It was strange. She wanted him to break the gaze, to let her become invisible like she was used to being. But at the same time she didn’t want him to stop either.

“You didn’t have to do all this for me,” Ava finally admitted part of the truth, “I really appreciate it, I do. I haven’t had a decent home-cooked meal in God knows how long, but… I’m not worth the trouble.”

“It’s no trouble at all,” Bucky said, “I didn’t have anything here that wasn’t past expiration, so I stopped by this specialty store while I was on my run and picked up a few things. Figured you’d like a taste of home.”

“That’s sweet,” Ava confessed with a half smile, “But I think you overestimate how much of my childhood I actually spent in England.”

“But… you like it though, right?” Bucky asked once again in earnestness, and there was a hint of something in his voice afraid he had offended her in some way. Ava didn’t want him to feel bad about it after clearly putting a lot of thought and effort into this.

“Oh, absolutely,” she managed to say, “You know how few places there are in New York that can actually serve English Breakfast, nevermind a decent one?”

“They didn’t have any English Breakfast at the store, so I got Yorkshire Gold instead,” Bucky confessed, “Sorry about that.”

Ava just blinked in confusion, but then the realization hit her and she smiled.

“Oh, you mean the tea!” Ava said, just barely resisting the urge to laugh.

“Is that okay?” Bucky asked with sincerity

“Okay? Bucky, that’s my all-time favorite tea,” Ava explained with giddiness, “God, it’s been ages since I had a good cuppa too.”

“Oh good,” Bucky said, relief overcoming his expression, “Glad it all worked out then.”

“And the Marmite…” Ava began, picking up the jar and holding it like a faberge egg, “How did you know I loved Marmite? I don’t even have any back at the Watchtower.”

“Actually… I had gotten the Marmite for me, but if you like it too, all the better then,” Bucky admitted, leaving Ava just a bit dumbstruck. An American who actually enjoyed Marmite? She never thought she’d live to see the day.

“Being honest, you did inspire me to do this,” Bucky began, “But truthfully, I have some good memories from this boarding house in England that me and a few other sergeants stayed at before we went to the front. Owners were… eccentric, but they made a damn good ‘fry-up’ I think they called it. And yes, I like Marmite toast too. Heretical for an American, I know.”

Ava laughed at that last bit, and she felt a weight lift off her shoulders knowing Bucky was pulling from good memories now, rather than the nightmares she knew he still had. She liked it when he seemed happy, content, and relaxed. She’d seen bits of it yesterday on their drive, when they’d stopped for lunch, and during last night’s movie. She knew that there was still a lot that he kept hiding from, and she hadn’t forgotten the image of him sobbing into the carpet from last night, but for now she wasn’t going to ruin his good mood. 

Ava and Bucky ate their breakfast in relative silence together, but this time the silence wasn’t awkward or tense like Ava feared. The food was good, to be certain, but the lightened atmosphere in spite of all things kept her going. Made her forget about the pain.

This pleasant silence continued until Bucky had finished his third plateful of eggs and sausage without so much as breaking a sweat, while Ava had barely finished her single plate before her jeans began feeling tight.

“So Barnes, where did this voracious appetite come from since yesterday?” Ava teased after Bucky finished scraping off every morsel he could. He just glared at her.

“Like I told you before, super soldier metabolism,” Bucky said, taking Ava’s empty plate and stacking it on top of his, “A big enough breakfast keeps me going throughout the day most of the time.”

“Sounds like a hassle to deal with,” Ava said.

“Eh, not really. It’s manageable,” Bucky said, “The biggest trouble is sharing fridge space with Alexei and Walker, and you and I both know how they lack anything resembling self-control. So usually I’ll make up the difference with protein powder. Today was a treat I suppose.”

“I see,” Ava responded, “In any case, thank you for doing this. It wasn’t necessary in the slightest, but I appreciate it.”

“It was as much for me as it was for you, I don’t ever really get a chance to cook for myself, nevermind for anyone else,” Bucky said, “It feels… normal.”

Ava felt that word hit her like a ton of bricks. Normal. The pair of them were far from normal, and yet here they were doing perhaps the most normal thing of all. Just sitting here, having breakfast, enjoying each other’s company without any concern for what might be going on in the outside world.

“Normal’s… good,” Ava managed to get out, and though it was sincere Ava knew it was a rather pathetic response considering Bucky went through all this effort. 

Bucky smiled at her words in any case, then he collected their dirty dishes and took them over to the kitchen sink.

It was then that Ava’s mind became cynical once again, despite her conscience telling her to just stop worrying and enjoy this. Why had Bucky done all this? What made him wake up and decide to break the sullen caveman routine and cook for her like she was a guest at a five star hotel? And why did he look so damn pleased with himself?

But Bucky had already given Ava the answer: her.

He said he wanted to “remind her of home,” as if home was something she ever really had, even before the accident. But it was more than that. It was the way he was speaking with her doing everything in his power to make sure she was content and untroubled. It was the way he indulged whatever she had asked of him without complaint, even if she didn’t insist. It was the way he attentively listened to everything she said, like he was trying to commit every last word to memory. It was the way he carried her off to bed and made sure she was comfortable throughout the night, even as he cried into his carpet all alone.

Over her.

Ava wasn’t a simpleton. It was beyond clear to her that Bucky cared about her. Deeply, it seemed. 

But she didn’t know how she felt about it.

Their connection was more than obvious. The Void had proven that they’d been connected since the day they met, all those years ago. But why, though? She couldn’t have been the only poor young recruit that Alexander Pierce’s asset was sent to “train.” What about Ava Starr was so special to Bucky Barnes that it caused him to break loose from Hydra’s programming?

Maybe if she had actually been there for him last night, Ava could have learned why Bucky felt the way he did. For now, Ava had to content herself with being uncertain about… well, about everything.

Why did Bucky care so much? What had Ava done to make him feel this way about her? She doesn’t recall anything special happening between them in the last three months, so why was Bucky being so soft around someone as prickly as her?

It couldn’t just have been bonding over their trauma vis-à-vis Hydra; everyone on the team had enough trauma to go around, and no way would Ava have ever given this much thought for John Walker or Alexei Shostakov. No, with Bucky there was something else, something she couldn’t quite describe.

Ava felt a tightness in her chest and a warmth in her cheeks as another idea crossed her mind, one that she was afraid to give voice to. But after spending so much time over the past couple of days agonizing over things, Ava realized she couldn’t deny it to herself any longer.

Ava realized that maybe, just maybe, she cared about Bucky too.

She had asked him if she could tag along to DC so she could resolve her… business. She had wanted to learn more about him and understand him better. She wanted to know about his past, his interests, his hobbies, his dreams. When she’d asked them these questions, Ava thought at first she was just looking for validation from someone in the same boat as her, to know if it was possible for someone like her to dream again. But now, Ava Starr recognized that she was genuinely invested in Bucky Barnes and his happiness.

Just like he was with hers.

After the accident, Ava never allowed herself the space to care for anyone, except Bill. SHIELD, Hydra, whatever they were called, they had beaten, starved, or otherwise vanquished anything resembling compassion out of her. Made her into a weapon. Their weapon. Even after Project Insight she still kept her armor up, too consumed with pain and the fear of her inevitable death to let anyone else in. To care. 

Only Bill ever could. But that was a different sort of caring. And that was over.

She doesn’t know what drove her to start caring about the other disposable delinquents (as Ava herself had put it) she had met in the Vault, especially after she… well, when she completed her mission for Valentina. But she did, she got them out of that incinerator, helped them all escape. Maybe it was vengeance she was after, or maybe she actually found people just as messed up as her she could relate to for a change, or maybe she just needed an escape herself. But the main thing is that Ava actually cared for once.

But with Bucky, it was different. She wanted him to be happy, content, alive. God knows he deserved the opportunity. But more than that, the mere idea of seeing him happy and at peace gave her euphoria like she hadn’t known or didn’t believe possible.

Ava felt like a whole new person around him. Not the stone-cold assassin that was wanted in 15 countries. Not the monster that had contemplated kidnapping a child and killing a good woman so she herself could live. Not the murderer who had put a bullet in Antonia Dreykov’s skull for nothing. Not some invisible wraith or haunting spirit that lived between realities unable to love or be loved.

She felt like… just Ava. And that made a world of difference.

Ava’s ears picked up the sound of a faucet being switched on, shaking her out of her deep thoughts as Bucky prepared to wash their breakfast dishes from over in the kitchen.

That cheeky bastard thought he was going to wait on her hand and foot and expect her to take it sitting down.

Within a second, Ava’s legs stood her up and carried her over to the kitchen without her even thinking about it.

“I’ll get it!” Ava’s voice escaped her mouth, much louder than she wanted it to be, causing Bucky to snap his head around at her as he held a soapy sponge in his grip.

“I’m sorry?” Bucky asked, still startled at Ava’s sudden appearance.

“The dishes,” Ava clarified, “I’ll get them.”

“I was just about to do them-” Bucky began to explain, but Ava would not have it.

“Nonsense,” Ava interrupted as she approached the sink, “you went through the trouble of getting everything and making it up, the least I can do is wash up a couple of plates.”

“But… you’re my guest,” Bucky seemed puzzled by Ava’s insistence on this matter.

“Yeah, but I’m not a moocher. Now go on, shoo,” Ava ordered him as she flicked her hands in his direction.

Bucky didn’t move, so Ava stepped forward and snatched the soapy sponge from his grasp, and it was then that she caught a whiff of an unpleasant odor coming from his clothes, causing her nose to crinkle.

“Okay, now you really need to shoo and get yourself scrubbed, Good Lord,” Ava had to take a step back.

“Ah shit, I’m sorry about that, it’s from my run-” Bucky started to explain, embarrassment flooding him once more.

“Don’t care, you wash up while I wash these. That’s an order, Sergeant,” Ava quipped.

Bucky couldn’t help but snicker, then raised up two fingers in mock salute before responding with, “Yes, ma’am.”

Bucky took off for the upstairs, and Ava smirked to herself as she did up the dishes. It didn’t take long and it wasn’t any real effort, but she liked contributing in at least some capacity. She already felt like enough of a freeloader at the Watchtower that she wanted to do something useful for a change. At the very least it kept her from boredom. 

And it was the absolute least she could do for Bucky, though she knew she owed him so much more.

When Ava finished she poured herself another cup of tea and took it out to the dining room again. She sat down in her seat again, and decided while she was waiting for Bucky she would start to plan out her day.

Bucky had to be at Capitol Hill by 9:00 AM and would be there till roughly around 5:00 PM with all the voting and committees and meetings and such, which gave Ava plenty of time to herself. 

Plenty of time to atone, or at least begin to.

Ava opened up her notes and saw the address that Yelena had gotten for her. She’d actually had it for a while but hadn’t yet done anything with it.

Well, that was going to change today.

When she first reached out to Yelena and asked her about finding the address, she remembers the look of concern the Russian had given her. The information had been easy enough to find, just a quick little hack into the CIA’s servers, but Yelena’s concern stemmed from what Ava intended to do once she decided to go. The only assurance Ava could give her was that nobody was going to die.

But it was still going to hurt.

Ava reached for the steaming hot cup in front of her and took a hearty sip, the warmth creeping through her bones and running all the way down to her fingers and toes. It kept her calm for the moment before her thoughts could turn dark again. 

A few minutes later, Bucky had finished up in the shower and Ava had heard his footsteps coming back down the stairs. She set her phone down, stood up from her seat and walked out of the dining room through the kitchen, intending on getting herself cleaned up as well, and then paused when she saw the sight before her.

Bucky was wearing that light grey suit he had brought with him, clean and freshly pressed and shirt immaculate, complete with a comfortable pair of dark wingtips and his long hair slicked back. It was certainly the most professional Ava had ever seen him, and it was almost disconcerting just how good he looked in a suit.

“Alright, I’m all done in there if you want to- hey, are you good?” Bucky asked, which broke Ava from the trance she had no idea she was in.

“Apologies, did you say something?” Ava asked innocently, trying to regain her composure. She nearly bit her tongue to keep her focus.

“I said the shower’s free,” Bucky gave her a weird look as he said it, and Ava quickly responded with, “Ah good, I’ll be in and out.”

Ava quickly brushed past Bucky as she darted up the stairs back to the bedroom, grabbing fresh clothes for the day as she wiped the drool off her mouth and prayed that Bucky had not noticed it.

When she got in the shower, Ava tried to clear her head of all the confusing feelings she was having. Things were so much simpler back when the only thing she actually had to worry about was dying. She could afford to be selfish and ignore the rest of the world around her.

But Ava couldn’t just ignore this thing with Bucky. It was eating at her, like a parasite. It was beyond obvious that she cared about him, and that he cared too, but… she didn’t know what to do next. Her mind was drawing blanks. What was her next move? Talking about it? Ignoring it? Letting things take their course?

Ava didn’t know what to think, and the image of Bucky Barnes in a suit was now burned into her memory which just made this all the more difficult.

In the end, she decided that before she could even contemplate her feelings for Bucky, Ava had to sort through her own baggage first. By herself. She was not going to put any of that on Bucky, no matter where things went from here.

Starting with that address.

Ava shut off the water and dried herself, then performed her morning routine before dressing in a dark grey V-neck shirt and a more conservative pair of skinny jeans. She did her hair up in a bun, some of her ombré tips hanging loose, and then exited the bathroom and grabbed the same combat boots and leather jacket she wore yesterday from the bedroom.

Once she’d finished, Ava reached into her inside jacket pocket and found her charging cord all tangled up in knots. She took a moment to try and untangle it all before realizing she left her phone downstairs on the dining room table. But before she could leave the room, right as she put her hand on the doorknob, Ava froze as she remembered something. She turned around and saw her suitcase laying on the floor next to the bed.

She approached the near-empty suitcase with careful footsteps. She bent down and unzippered it. Tucked inside alongside other things of hers was the sword.

Ava remembers putting the collapsible sword inside her suitcase in her rush to get ready yesterday. She hadn’t thought about why she did it at the time.

But now…

Ava picked up the sword and held it, turning it over and over in her hands. The weapon was a unique design, likely a custom job. It was lightweight, durable, but surprisingly it wasn’t metal. It was some carbon-based material, probably made for sneaking in and out of secure areas with metal detectors. Probably came in real handy over the course of Antonia Dreykov’s career with the Red Room and with OXE.

A bulletproof mask would’ve been more useful.

Ava’s teeth clenched together, and she placed the sword handle into her inner jacket pocket. She knew now why she’d brought it.

Ava exited the bedroom and closed the door behind her, exerting all her willpower to keep the nightmares she’d been having from intruding into the present.

But when one had so many nightmares to choose from, it was hard to compartmentalize and keep everything locked away. Sometimes things just had a way of… slipping out.

That is what Ava would find out in mere moments as she clambered down the stairs again, cord in hand as she set out to charge up her phone.

Before she entered the kitchen, Ava looked out into the living room and saw Bucky bent over at an outlet next to the couch, a charging cord in his own hands, along with-

“Bucky?” Ava asked, rising tension in her voice, “What are you doing with my phone?”

“Oh hey, I hope you don’t mind,” Bucky began innocently, “I saw you left it lying on the table, and I noticed it was dead, so I thought I’d get things going for you-”

Before Bucky could finish, and before Ava could raise up her voice in protest, the phone gained enough power it turned back on, and Bucky must’ve hit something or Ava left something open, because when it did a voice came on from the other end.

It was a deep voice. It was a man’s voice. It was a voice that Ava had not heard in person for two years.

“Ava… it’s me. I know you’re still upset. But… I want you to know-”

What the voice had wanted Ava to know, neither of them would hear. Ava immediately rushed forward, grabbed the phone from Bucky’s hand, and shut it off before the message could continue.

Ava closed her eyes tightly, and then inhaled sharply through her nose. This wasn’t supposed to happen. Bucky wasn’t supposed to hear that. 

“Ava… I’m sorry,” Bucky began, his voice now more somber than it had been all morning, “I don’t… I didn’t mean to-”

“Stop,” Ava spoke bluntly, her eyes still shut tight. The light had gone out from her voice, “Stop apologizing. Please.”

Bucky shifted uncomfortably where he stood, and Ava could feel the rising tension between the two again. She opened her eyes and took in his solemn gaze, looking like he had hurt her again. It was that same look after they had their first fight all those years ago.

“It was only an accident,” Ava continued, trying to salvage the situation and her dignity and whatever may or may not be happening between the two of them, “You have nothing to be sorry about. But… this is not something I’m ready to talk about yet. Okay?”

Bucky gave a silent, but firm and resolute nod. He understood her, probably better than anyone else ever could. He maintained his composure, and Ava did hers.

But the pain was still there. And it was all too fresh.

It seemed like no matter how hard either of them might try to distract themselves or tell tales to the contrary, the pain they carried would always find a way back to them, some way or another.

Chapter Text

Every hero had an arch-nemesis. In Bucky’s case, his was 21st century technology.

After the previous night’s “revelations,” for lack of a better description, Bucky felt this compulsive urge to do something really nice for Ava. Something good, something wholesome, something she’d really appreciate and would make her genuinely happy.

Maybe the idea of serving her a full English breakfast was bordering on patronizing, even if his intentions were pure. But thankfully things seemed to go off without a hitch and Ava seemed touched by it.

Bucky liked that feeling. Knowing he’d done right. Confident he had made her day - as well as his - just that little bit brighter.

And then, like an idiot, he had to go and pick up her damned phone and spoil everything.

Which is how Bucky found himself passing the time sitting on his back patio, reading The Hobbit at a faster than normal pace, while Ava remained inside doing whatever it was she was doing.

It wasn’t like Ava had kicked Bucky out of his own house. No, Bucky wanted to give her some space so he elected to remain outside until it was time for them to go.

He didn’t know what he could say to try and make things better anyway. Ava said she didn’t want to talk, but even so, Bucky wouldn’t know where to begin.

Bucky knew the fundamental facts about what had occurred between her and Bill Foster, even if he didn’t know the full story. He had known it was the reason Ava wanted to tag along to DC with him, and he indulged her. But never once did he ever broach the subject with her. That was one line he was absolutely not going to cross, at least not until she was ready to share it.

Everyone was entitled to their secrets.

At about five of eight, and after breezing through the first four chapters of his book, he heard a rapping on the sliding glass door, and Bucky turned to see Ava standing there, her expression inscrutable.

Bucky didn’t need to be told it was time to go. He slammed his book shut and got up out of his chair, and Ava moved away from the sliding glass door as he entered. Bucky made sure to grab his briefcase, a change of clothes, his leftover sandwich from yesterday for his lunch, and a thermos of the tea he made. Ava, meanwhile, had put on a light grey zip-up hoodie over her dark grey V-neck before putting her leather jacket overtop and then fitting her Yankees cap onto her head again. She pulled the cord out of her charged phone, then turned to face Bucky.

“Ready, then?” Ava asked, her tone of voice calm but not exactly lively either.

“Yeah, let’s go,” Bucky replied.

They exited the house and got into the Chevy Colorado once more, then pulled out of the driveway and started the drive into Washington, DC itself.

The long, awkward silences that had been a staple of their travels yesterday returned with a vengeance. Only this time, there was no radio to distract either of them. Neither were really in the mood for music, and today wasn’t really a day for pleasure. They both had business to attend to.

“So…” Bucky asked after about three miles, “Any place in particular you’d like to be dropped off at?”

“The Air and Space Museum,” Ava spoke finally, “Always wanted to see the rockets there.”

“Smithsonian doesn’t open till 10, though,” Bucky told her, and the instincts that had been hammered into him by Hydra could see the twitch in her jaw.

“I’ll find something to occupy me in the meantime,” Ava responded flatly, pretending like nothing was bothering her when Bucky could see she was bothered as plain as day.

Bucky hated seeing her like this. He knew Ava was a solitary person, had been most of her life. But he also knew how much she hated it, how much she hated being alone. She had sought him out for companionship last night, practically glued herself to his vibranium arm because she just wanted to be with somebody for a change. 

But now she was cutting herself off once again, shutting him out and shutting the world away. She was making herself solitary, as if that was going to spare her from more pain.

Bucky knew deep in his heart that this wasn’t going to make things better for her. He had been exactly where she was now, keeping himself completely locked away in the vain hope of finding peace. But as much as he wanted to change that, there was nothing he could do. At least not right now. When Ava was ready to talk, then they’d talk.

Bucky continued driving down the highway, letting the quiet between him and Ava linger for a time. That is, of course, before Ava’s phone started ringing loudly. Bucky saw Ava perk up as she looked at the caller ID.

“It’s Yelena, I better take this,” Ava said to Bucky, and Bucky looked over, his interest piqued.

Ava answered the phone, then a booming voice came over the speaker, causing both Ava and Bucky to wince at the sheer volume.

“COMRADES! FINALLY YOU PICK UP PHONE! WE WERE WORRIED THAT YOU WERE KILLED, OR THAT LIVES WERE IN GRAVE DANGER AND YOU DID NOT TELL US!”

Sometimes, Bucky genuinely wondered if the version of the serum that the Soviets gave Alexei made him this way, or if he’d always been this loud and boisterous. 

“Hi, Alexei,” both Bucky and Ava spoke at the same time without meaning to. They shot each other a brief glance over it, and then resumed their attention on the call.

“I must have called cellphone dozens of times and sent hundreds of texts! Why did neither one of you respond!?”

“Sorry about that, Alexei,” Bucky said, “Guess we were too focused on the road to make phone calls.”

“And my phone was dead, so I couldn’t,” Ava told a white lie, though Bucky didn’t blame her. Had either of them gotten on a call from him yesterday it’s liable he would’ve talked till the phone batteries died and even after.

“You do not say goodbye, you do not leave note, neither of you even tried my dear Babushka’s borscht recipe! I work hard on it all afternoon!” Alexei boomed again.

Before Bucky or Ava could come up with an excuse for any of the above, another voice came from the other end of the speaker, though admittedly sounding more haggard than usual.

“Dad, that borscht was poisoned,” came Yelena’s voice from the other end, “You didn’t notice Bob and I feeling like shit for the past two days? Bob only just stopped throwing up three hours ago.”

It was then that Bucky and Ava both heaved miniature sighs of relief, thankful they trusted their better judgment to not rush into Alexei’s cooking, even if they did feel pity for Yelena and Bob being the unfortunate sacrificial lambs.

“Oh my God, that’s awful,” Ava spoke into the phone she was holding.

“How’re you guys holding up?” Bucky asked.

“But Walker and I both have it and experience no troubles! It could not have been cooking!” Alexei’s voice defended, seemingly ignoring them both.

Bucky looked over to see Ava pouting. Presumably, the idea of John Walker evading food poisoning disappointed her.

“That’s because you both have the serum! You literally can’t get sick from anything!” Yelena shot back at Alexei.

“Actually, that’s not true,” Bucky decided to speak up and interrupt this little verbal sparring between father and daughter, “Remember the stroganoff incident from last month?”

“The package clearly said ‘best by!’” Alexei defended, an annoyance in his voice like he had heard this before.

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean you wait until the day of to use it,” Bucky shook his head as he reminded the Russian.

“Yeah, that was… that was a rough night for all of us,” Ava recalled with a grimace in her expression. Bucky remembered that night all too well where everyone in the Watchtower got sick with food poisoning, which included the three super soldiers and the unstable demigod. Frankly, he was surprised anyone had chosen to take the risk again; he sure as hell wouldn’t.

“Anyway, you guys doing alright now? Anything you need?” Bucky asked, concerned for his team.

“No, we got things under control here,” Yelena responded this time, “If anything happens out in the world we can make do.”

“I don’t think sending John out alone with his taco shield qualifies as ‘making do,’” Bucky told her.

“Well…” Ava muttered, turning her head away. Bucky caught this and just rolled his eyes. 

“And what about me? You would bench the Red Guardian when world is at final buzzer?” Alexei grumbled over the other end.

“You’re not benched, Alexei, I’m just thinking it might be a good idea that you be around to take care of your kid while she’s sick,” Bucky quipped with a smirk. He noticed Ava smirking as well, and that brightened his disposition a little.

“No, no, no. Not necessary. If there’s a situation that comes up, Alexei can go with Walker no problem,” Yelena started getting out with nervous urgency, like she was dreading the idea of Alexei playing caretaker for her and Bob. This only served to amuse Bucky even further.

“No, the Winter Soldier is right. I have duty to New Avengers, but first duty is as papochka, and as papochka I will-” Alexei began, only for Yelena to immediately interrupt him.

“Bob and I are managing well enough on our own, thank you very much!” Yelena hurriedly spoke, like somehow Alexei watching over them would be more of a hindrance than a help. Bucky couldn’t exactly disagree, no matter how amusing he found the circumstances.

“Where is Bob, by the way?” Ava asked out of concern, “How’s he doing?”

“He went back to bed, he couldn’t sleep most of the night. Had to keep him on his side to make sure there weren’t… issues,” Yelena’s hoarse voice got out, but then faltered towards the end.

This had not gone unnoticed by Bucky. And apparently, not for Ava either.

“Wait, Yelena…” Ava began, “Were you… with Bob last night?”

“Of course I was with him, we were both sick and needed to make sure we didn’t roll over and asphyxiate,” Yelena responded instantly, though Bucky could detect a sudden shift in her voice. A false confidence.

“No, I get that, of course,” Ava started again, a teasing look on her face, “But I mean… you were in bed… with Bob… right?”

There was a pause from the other end of the line. For a moment Bucky thought the call had dropped or Yelena had hung up, but apparently not. He started to get secondhand embarrassment and wondered what Ava’s endgame was with this.

“.... That’s irrelevant,” Yelena responded in a low grumble. Bucky watched Ava put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from laughing. He had a hard time suppressing his own smile.

“Umnichka…” Alexei began slowly, “What are you not telling us?”

“What? Two sick people can’t share a bed together and prevent further spread of germs? I thought this was America,” Yelena defended.

“Robert was not… forward, was he?” Alexei inquired.

“Jesus Christ, Dad! Nothing happened!” Yelena argued back. There were a few more of these statements back and forth before they started arguing in Russian, at which point Ava hit the mute button on her phone and looked over at Bucky, who swallowed.

“Any idea what they’re on about now?” Ava asked.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky said, cursing the fact he understood Russian, “But nothing that we didn’t already know.”

Ava chuckled at that, and Bucky saw her expression lift once more. He was under no illusions that whatever bothered Ava would just suddenly go away, but in moments like these he welcomed the pleasant distractions since it made her smile, something he found he liked.

“Yelena and Bob… you know, I almost didn’t figure,” Ava commented, “But it makes sense, I don’t think I’ve ever seen one without the other in the same room except for when we’re on missions.”

Bucky heard what she was saying, but he wasn’t entirely convinced on the matter. But what would he know, out of practice like he was?

“I dunno,” Bucky began, “I always sort of saw them as brother and sister. Close like that. Didn’t get any impression about… well, that other thing. Especially not from Yelena.”

“Hmm, you could be right, I suppose,” Ava acknowledged, turning her head towards the passenger window, “Could be aroace.”

Bucky heard this, and then a very puzzled look formed on his face wondering if he understood Ava correctly.

“I thought she was called Hawkeye,” Bucky replied, and Ava slowly turned her head toward him with a puzzled expression of her own.

“Beg pardon?” Ava asked, apparently not understanding what he had said now, and this confused Bucky further.

“Isn’t that her name?” Bucky asked.

“ Whose name? Yelena’s?” Ava asked back, even more confused.

“No, not Yelena!” Bucky clarified, annoyed by how this conversation had gone off the rails, “Her friend, that girl! The one that stops by the Watchtower every now and again to watch Yelena’s dog Fanny. What was her real name again? Kelly? Kit?”

Bucky watched as Ava was slowly piecing things together, until all at once everything clicked, “Oh, you mean Kate!”

“Yes, Kate, thank you!” Bucky exclaimed, exasperated, “Yeah, Kate, the new Hawkeye. The archer. The one that Yelena is always inviting over and teasing and all that stuff. When did she start calling herself Arrow Ace?”

There were a few more quiet moments where Ava was trying to piece together what Bucky had said, and Bucky wondered if he’d gone stupid in the past few minutes just from listening to Alexei.

Then Ava started laughing, and was laughing hard. And Bucky was probably more confused than he’d ever been.

“Oh God, I needed that,” Ava found space to talk between giggles, wiping a tear from her eye, “Ah, you’re too pure for this world, you know that Barnes?”

“Okay, you’ve officially lost me, Ava,” Bucky shifted his focus back on the highway, even as Ava’s laughter subsided. 

“Bucky, when I said aroace, I meant that Yelena might-” Ava began, but then cut herself off, “Ah forget it. You know, you really ought to spend more time online learning about the world today.”

“Sometimes, I think I should spend even less than I already do,” Bucky returned.

“But anyway, you make a good point,” Ava confessed, “Yelena and Kate… well, I hadn’t considered that.”

“I mean, it seemed more obvious to me than Bob,” Bucky said, “But even then I don’t know what this whole deal is with Bob anyway.”

“Or maybe there is no deal,” Ava said, and Bucky caught a knowing look from her that he didn’t quite understand. 

“In any case, maybe we should both stop gossiping about what our teammates may or may not be doing in their private lives and get back to the call,” Bucky suggested.

“Probably a good idea,” Ava agreed, “... Do you think they’re still going at it?”

“Only one way to find out,” Bucky replied.

Ava hit the unmute button, and apparently Yelena and Alexei were still arguing with each other in Russian. Yelena had called her father a few choice words he was glad Ava wasn’t able to understand. 

“Guess we have our answer,” Ava said softly, and Bucky just sighed.

“You know we’re both still here, right?” Bucky spoke into the phone.

The arguing suddenly stopped, and Yelena’s voice said, “Of course we knew, we just didn’t much care because we were in a deep discussion on the merit of BOUNDARIES!”

“Did I say I have problem? I did not say I have problem,” Alexei spoke nonchalantly. 

“Dad-” Yelena started up again, but before she could get another word out a new voice joined the conversation.

“Hey, guys?” came the voice of John Walker alongside shuffling footsteps, sounding hoarse just like Yelena was, “I’m not feeling so great right now.”

“Welcome to the club, Walker,” Yelena sarcastically replied to him, “Told you there was something wrong with that borscht, Dad.”

There was a sound of retching coming from the other end of the phone, followed by Yelena and Alexei mumbling more curses in Russian.

Bucky glanced over at Ava again, who had closed her eyes, pumped her fist, and silently mouthed “Yes!” in delight. When she opened her eyes again, Bucky just glared at her and shook his head. Ava just rolled her eyes.

“Where’s the goddamn mop?” Yelena’s irritated voice called out again.

“Alexei… from now on…” came Walker’s wheezing voice, “Any time you feel like cooking… don’t.”

Alexei’s voice grumbled on the other end, and there was a loud thudding noise which Bucky was pretty sure was Walker collapsing onto the floor. Bucky gulped, realizing what he had to do now that literally half the team was incapacitated.

“Alexei?” Bucky began slowly, “Seeing as you’re the only one currently not sick… the Red Guardian is on active Avengers duty.”

“YEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!!!!!” Alexei’s voice boomed in delight.

“Oh God, no…” Yelena’s voice sounded muffled. She probably buried her face in her hands.

“You can start by getting Walker into bed,” Bucky said, “And for the love of God… no more unsupervised cooking. Please.”

“Yes sir, Mr. Soldier sir!” Alexei responded, “Okay, Mr. Agent, time to go night-night!”

“So I’ll just clean up Walker’s refuse, then? What am I, the maid?” Yelena grumbled into the phone.

“Let Walker clean up his own mess, ‘Lena,” Ava told her, “He’s a big boy, he can take it.”

“So we leave you kids alone for five minutes and everything goes to shit?” Bucky spoke into the phone with a grin.

“Don’t call us kids, Barnes,” Yelena moaned.

“I’m literally older than all of you by an average of 75 years,” Bucky reminded her. Yelena just sighed on the other end.

“Anyway, enough about all of that other nonsense, just wanted to check in and see how you both have been doing,” Yelena finally got out. 

“We’ve been doing pretty okay,” Bucky told her.

“Yeah, smashing, really,” Ava spoke, but immediately froze afterwards when Yelena gave a weak laugh at the other end.

“Really? So soon? I mean… no judgments or anything, you guys do you… but still, that was fast,” Yelena spoke in a teasing tone, not unlike how Ava had teased her a bit ago about Bob.

Bucky felt the heat rise in his cheeks, and he and Ava exchanged a quick glance where he saw that she too was running red in the face. With everything that had happened between them over the past few days, and now this, Bucky had a sudden urge to just swerve off the highway and save himself and Ava from further embarrassment.

“You know I can walk through your walls any time I wish, right Belova?” Ava spoke through clenched teeth.

“Whatever you say, Starr,” Yelena replied sarcastically, “But really though, are you guys alright?”

“Yeah we’re alright,” Bucky replied, his embarrassment having died down a bit, but then noticed some hesitancy in Yelena’s voice when she spoke, “What’s the matter?”

“Well, I’d gotten some texts from Valentina’s assistant. Said she tried getting in touch with you but you never responded,” Yelena explained.

“Ah, Christ,” Bucky moaned as he leaned against the car window and pinched his temples with his metal hand. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed was more bullshit from Mel.

“Did Mel say what she wanted at least?” Bucky asked.

“No, but she said it was urgent, and she said to call her back as quickly as you can,” Yelena explained.

“If it’s so important, why wouldn’t she just tell you? I mean, you’re the team co-leader after all,” Bucky asked.

“I don’t know, that’s why I told her to go eat shit with her boss,” Yelena said.

“Good girl,” Bucky complimented.

“Thanks, boss,” Yelena returned, “Anyway, won’t keep you two from your business any longer. I understand you have busy schedules today.”

“Do you need us to come back to New York? What with you guys being under the weather and all?” Ava asked. 

“No, no, that won’t be necessary. If anything happens, well, I’m sure the Red Guardian will be able to take care of it… God help us all,” Yelena jibed, which got another laugh out of Bucky and Ava.

“Alright, well, rest up, keep hydrated, all that good stuff,” Bucky told her, “We’ll be back home soon enough.”

“And in the future, do like we did and avoid dodgy Russian cooking if you can help it,” Ava quipped.

“Thanks Mom and Dad,” Yelena replied sarcastically again, then concluded their call with, “Do svidaniya.”

Bucky and Ava both said goodbye, and Ava hung up the phone.

“ That was interesting,” Ava commented.

“Yeah, maybe we shouldn’t have left them unsupervised,” Bucky replied, “I mean, Yelena is usually pretty good about these things, but…”

“I’m mainly worried about Alexei doing something stupid… okay, let me rephrase, I’m worried about Alexei doing something more stupid than he normally does,” Ava said.

“Yeah… he’s probably the last person I would’ve wanted in charge,” Bucky said, “Walker is a close second.”

“Well, what do you suppose we should do? Hire a nanny?” Ava asked, half joking and half not.

“We could always up the monthly operating budget, get Val to spring for one,” Bucky joked, and Ava laughed.

“I’d support any measure to waste as much of that bitch’s money as humanly possible,” Ava added, “Hell, I’d even design a gallery dedicated to Walker made entirely out of gold just to spite her.”

“You’d subject yourself to such torture?” Bucky asked, quite familiar with her animosity towards John Walker.

“I could always just melt down the gold afterwards,” Ava shrugged.

“Sensible,” Bucky replied simply.

“Maybe we should’ve called Lang for this, at least he knows how to babysit children,” Ava remarked.

Bucky suddenly found himself thunderstruck when she said that name. Of all the things that he knew about this team, both from their files and living with them for the past three months - not to mention being a fairly perceptive person overall - this caught him off guard. Could she possibly have meant…?

“Hold on a second… Lang?” Bucky asked, shooting her a look of startled astonishment, “As in Scott Lang?”

“Yeah,” Ava said nonchalantly, “What other Langs do we know?”

“You know Scott Lang, the Ant-Man?” Bucky had a look of surprise, and Ava’s brow furrowed.

“Of course I know- wait a second… you didn’t know I already knew Scott?” Ava asked.

“I didn’t know until literally five seconds ago,” Bucky answered truthfully. How in the hell did this slip past his notice after all this time?

“He’s never mentioned me at all?” Ava asked, sounding a bit offended, “Seriously?”

“Well, in my defense I only ever met the guy twice,” Bucky explained, “First that shitshow in Leipzig, then at the Avengers Compound in upstate New York four years ago. No guy braver, but kind of annoying.”

“That sounds like Scott to me,” Ava remarked.

“But seriously, Ava, you have to believe me when I tell you I never heard a word about you from him,” Bucky defended himself, “How do you know him?”

“Well… that’s a long story,” Ava began tensely, “It begins in San Francisco and it ends with him and his girlfriend kicking my arse… which being honest I kind of deserved.”

Bucky was just even more confused now.

“How the hell did you get your ass kicked by Scott Lang?” an incredulous Bucky asked her.

“That’s a question I ask myself every now and again,” Ava remarked with a sigh, “Little bastard.”

Bucky was still very much interested in hearing more about Ava’s encounter with Scott, but then a few more things began to register with him.

She mentioned San Francisco. Bill Foster had taught quantum physics at UC Berkeley. Bucky also remembered that Foster had disappeared shortly before the Snap, having become a fugitive from the law for his connection to the death of an FBI agent.

A death he knew Ava was responsible for.

Bucky’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. He wouldn’t dare take this conversation any further. This morning with the voicemail had already been overstepping his bounds. 

“Hey,” Ava began again, changing the subject, “What do you suppose Mel wants with you anyway?”

Thank God, Bucky thought to himself. He didn’t know how he would’ve branched off of that topic, so he was grateful to Ava for shifting gears, even if it still bothered him.

“I dunno,” Bucky replied truthfully, “A message from Val perhaps, or another dumb PR stunt, or maybe matching team uniforms, but I really don’t care. I’ve told Val before that if she wants to talk with me or Yelena about anything she can either do it herself or send someone else in her place.”

“You don’t trust Mel,” Ava spoke. It wasn’t a question.

“No, I don’t,” Bucky continued, an undercurrent of bitterness in his voice, “At first I thought I could, but… no. She set us up. She hurt Bob. She chose her camp. At least with Val you know what a piece of shit she is upfront.”

“Yeah, you do…” Ava’s voice seemed to trail off, and Bucky caught this. 

Shit , he should have chosen his words more carefully. Bucky knew the circumstances that led Ava to start working for Valentina. He should’ve known better.

“But yeah,” Bucky said, trying to regain traction, “If whatever had to be said couldn’t be shared with Yelena, then it sure as shit isn’t important, so I’m not worried.”

“Not even a little bit?” Ava asked.

“I’m about to go speak before the House of Representatives, that’s enough worry for one day,” Bucky quipped, and they both smiled. Bucky felt the tension ease up again.

They had finally made it into the city limits of Washington, DC, and Bucky watched as Ava gazed out the window taking the sights in. Of course, the White House, the Washington Monument, and the Cherry Blossoms still bore scars of the fight that had taken place earlier in the year between Captain America and the ex-President of the United States, but apart from that things more or less had become “normal” for lack of a better term.

Bucky wasn’t so naive to think that things would ever be normal; they weren’t back in his day either. But for now there was quiet. 

As they neared Ava’s intended destination of the Air and Space Museum, Bucky spoke up again and said, “It’ll probably be somewhere around five by the time the House adjourns. Will you be okay until then?”

Ava looked over at him and said, in a flat tone, “I’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” Bucky asked, doing his best not to sound pushy but still concerned for Ava’s well-being.

“Yes,” Ava said, “If there’s a problem, I’ll handle it, or I’ll let you know.”

“Ava-” Bucky began, but Ava cut him off.

“And don’t worry if you get held up at all,” Ava said, “Push comes to shove I can always get a Lyft back.”

“Who’d be giving you a lift?” Bucky asked, puzzled, “You’re not planning to hitchhike, are you?”

“No, no,” Ava clarified, seeing his confusion, “Lyft is a driver service, like Uber.”

“Ohhhh okay,” Bucky said, things clicking into place for him, “I mean, I know what Uber is, but that’s good to know.”

Finally, they arrived just outside of the museum, and Bucky parked the truck on the side of the street. Ava unbuckled herself and prepared to step out, but before she could, Bucky felt the sudden urge to speak up now before it was too late.

“Ava, wait,” Bucky spoke with a gentle urging in his voice, and Ava stopped and shifted herself so that she was facing him. Those green eyes looked right through his soul.

Just like they had all those years ago.

Bucky swallowed again.

“About this morning…” Bucky began, “I didn’t mean for that to happen. It was an accident but it still happened. And I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it, and I will respect that. I’m not going to press you with questions you won’t feel comfortable answering. But… all I ask is when and if you ever feel ready…”

Bucky paused. He felt like saying “I’ll be there,” but it sounded too passive. Too responsive. Not nearly proactive enough. Like he didn’t care when the truth of the matter is he cared more than he thought possible.

“... please talk to me,” Bucky finished, practically begging.

Bucky doesn’t know how he managed to get the words out. His throat started feeling dry again and his head started to go all swimmy. 

But he meant 100% of what he said. Whatever was bothering Ava, Bucky wanted to be the one to shoulder that burden. He wanted to hear what she had to say. He didn’t want her to suffer in silence again, like he knew she had been. He wanted her to know that she could trust him completely, even if he still felt like at times he couldn’t trust himself.

“I will. I promise,” Ava spoke with resolute firmness. Her green eyes may have darted away for a moment, but they refocused themselves on Bucky’s blue ones.

At best, Bucky expected she might say she’d think about it, but Ava wasn’t second-guessing anything; Bucky knew that as soon as she was ready, Ava would talk with him.

“And…” Ava began, taking off her cap, but she hesitated, like she was afraid of what she was going to say next.

“Yes?” Bucky asked gently. He wanted her to be comfortable speaking her mind, especially to him.

“... if there’s something bothering you… anything you need to get off your chest… I’ll… I’ll do my best to listen,” Ava timidly finished, less confident than she seemed a moment before.

Bucky could see it in her face. She knew about the crying. Of course she knew. He’d probably made such a racket last night he’d woken her up. 

But that was not Ava’s burden to bear. She was under no obligation to listen to him spill his guts out - especially since it directly involved her - not with everything she had already dealt with and was dealing with even now.

But Bucky couldn’t put into words just how grateful he felt for her saying that.

“Thank you, Ava,” Bucky said. The simplicity of his response could not justify how sincere he felt in saying it.

The two of them remained fixed on each other for some time, and for some reason neither of them were breaking away. Bucky didn’t know how much time had passed. Thirty seconds? A minute? An hour? A year?

But he didn’t care. He took in the sight of her like he was looking at her for the first time. Her brilliant, emerald green eyes he got lost in. The dark circles under her eyes from an irregular sleep cycle. The shape of her nose. The angle of her cheekbones. The fullness of her lips…

He could see Ava was nervous, but she wasn’t looking away.  He watched intently as her eyes scanned his face, seemingly taking in every bit of him as well, from his stubble to his worry lines to scars that had never fully healed and everything in between. 

Bucky had no idea how Ava could look at him and not see the Winter Soldier, the weapon that had caused her harm. But she didn’t see the Winter Soldier. She only saw him. 

Just as he saw her.

“Ava…” Bucky let out a breathless whisper, her name feeling like an echo on his lips.

“James…” Ava spoke, in that same gentle voice he had heard her use last night.

Bucky’s heart started beating uncontrollably in his chest. He could feel the sweat forming on his brow and under his shirt. He felt his lungs scream for air as her warm breath touched his face, and he realized they had been leaning closer and closer toward each other.

Ava’s breath hitched, and Bucky was consumed with a desire he had never felt before.

The gap between them closed, and their lips met.

Bucky closed his eyes as ecstasy overcame him. Ava’s lips were soft and supple, and Bucky leaned gently into her. He slowly brought up his flesh-and-blood hand to cup her face, feeling the heat radiating off her and setting his fingertips ablaze. Bucky felt Ava shift in place as her arms wrapped themselves behind his neck, and he felt goosebumps forming there as a shiver ran down his spine.

The two of them pressed deeper into the kiss, their noses brushing past each other with a light tickle. Bucky’s lungs continued to scream for air, and he briefly broke the kiss so they could both catch their breath before leaning into each other again. Bucky’s hand left Ava’s cheek and cradled the back of her head, letting her soft hair run through his fingers. He felt Ava gently nibble at his lower lip as she pulled away and then crashed into him again, but never too hard for Bucky’s liking.

Bucky had kissed plenty of girls back in the day. But those had been little pecks on the lips or some cavalier attempt at courting. This was a totally different experience, completely foreign to him. This was sensual. This was overwhelming. This was…

Eventually, the two of them broke the kiss, gently pulling away from each other as they rested their foreheads together, steadily catching their breath.

Bucky willed himself to open his eyes and drank the sight of Ava, her steady breathing and her emerald green eyes fixated upon him once again.

That’s when the panic set in.

Bucky and Ava slowly pulled themselves away from each other, not breaking the gaze, his hand still behind her head and her arms still draped behind his neck.

Now what did they do?

He had no idea how this happened, or why. He searched her face for answers but found none, other than that she was searching him for the same. This went against every instinct he had to give her space, to let her come to terms with everything, to let the both of them do the proper soul-searching they so desperately needed before rushing into things.

But it was too late now. Pandora’s Box had been opened. There was no turning back.

Slowly, Ava lifted her arms and pulled them back towards herself. Bucky reluctantly let go of Ava’s hair, and the two of them sat back down in their seats, eyes unwavering from each other.

Bucky could see the panic in Ava’s face, wondering what she’d done… what they had done… and what would happen next.

Bucky had no answers to give her. His heartbeat was still out of control and his throat felt so dry that if he tried speaking that it would just crumble and fall to pieces.

They sat there like that for a while, a million thoughts racing through their heads but Bucky not being able to understand his own nevermind hers.

“I…” Ava finally began, confused and out of breath, “... should get going. Wouldn’t want to make you late… Congressman Barnes.”

Bucky said nothing as Ava addressed him so formally, like nothing had happened between them just moments ago. He continued to sit there in stunned silence, unable to find the words to speak. Eventually his brain had manifested enough power to just give her a pathetic nod.

Ava somehow managed to summon up enough willpower to reach for the handle to the passenger door, opened it, and scrambled out of the truck onto the sidewalk. She closed the door behind her, fitted the Yankees cap back onto her head, but continued to gaze into the truck right at Bucky, her hands tucked in her jacket pockets.

There was a moment that looked like she was going to say something else, but she tore her gaze away at the last second and started walking from the truck. Ava did not look back, and soon she was out of Bucky’s sight, leaving him alone in the truck with the thoughts that were consuming him.

Bucky knew that he had cared about Ava for the longest time. He had cared about her ever since the day they met. He cared about her ever since time and fate had brought them back together and made them both Avengers. 

But it wasn’t until now, at this very moment, that the full extent of that care became clear to him.

Oh God, he realized, the clarity hitting him like a freight train, I think I love her.

Bucky Barnes was in love with Ava Starr.

And it was entirely possible that she was in love with him too.

After spending an eternity parked in place, his soul wracked in turmoil over what just happened and why, Bucky felt his focus return.

He was here as a Congressman. He had to get to Capitol Hill. He had serious business to attend to.

Hopefully it would be enough to distract him from the feelings that had overwhelmed him. Hopefully it would give him greater clarity. Hopefully…

Bucky started the engine of his truck and pulled away, his mind still an absolute mess, but his heart feeling full like it had never been before.

And for the first time in the longest time, Bucky Barnes realized he was alive.

Chapter Text

Ava sat frozen in place on a nearby park bench, staring into the middle distance as the world seemed to pass by around her. Her mind was a muddled mess of incoherent thoughts and ideas, all semblance of clarity having gone by the wayside as a single question lingered:

What the hell had just happened between her and Bucky?

One minute they were on the phone with the rest of the team discussing food poisoning, and the next minute they started kissing each other.

They actually kissed each other.

For the life of her, Ava couldn’t explain how it happened. They’d just been talking to each other and then suddenly…

Did she make the first move? Was it Bucky who did? Did they go at the same time? Ava couldn’t remember. The only things she could remember were the erratic pounding of her heart against her ribcage and Bucky’s stupid, beautiful face.

Of course, the kissing itself had been brilliant, but that wasn’t the point.

Ava had never kissed anyone before.

Well, actually that wasn’t true. There was that one boy from Hull she had a crush on back in Year 4. Roy… something or other. Had been in the football club. Glasses. Ava couldn’t exactly remember the kiss itself, only that it had happened. 

Correction: Ava had never kissed anyone in her entire adult life.

As the majority of her adolescence and all of her teenage years had been spent inside glass cages whilst being experimented on by Hydra scientists in white coats, Ava didn’t exactly have a lot of experience when it came to boys and dating. She would’ve liked to have gone to prom, though even if Alexander Pierce had suddenly manifested anything resembling a soul to let her, Ava doubts she would’ve been able to slow dance with anyone without their hands passing right through her and her collapsing onto the dance floor in excruciating pain. 

Even after SHIELD and Hydra fell, Ava wasn’t able to make up for lost time, preoccupied as she was with staving off her inevitable death. Though shortly after Janet van Dyne had healed her and brought her some level of normalcy, Ava had begun to consider the possibilities she had ahead of her.

Then the Snap - and Valentina - happened. And that was pretty much the end of it.

So what in the hell had gotten into Ava’s head to start snogging Bucky Barnes? And with such fervor?

Ava had pretty much completely forgotten about the address in her notes, having pushed it to the back of her mind while she tried to make sense of this thing with Bucky.

Ava had already admitted to herself she cared deeply about Bucky, and that she had cared about him for a while, but she didn’t realize that any of it was gonna lead to… this.

Christ, what have I done? Ava asked herself as she buried her face in her hands. Things had just gotten so much more complicated between them, as if there wasn’t enough of that already. 

She realized that no matter what ended up happening from here, things were going to be different between her and Bucky now. It wasn’t something that could be ignored or pushed aside anymore. How were they going to function on the same team now that this had happened? Hell, how were they supposed to live together in the same place?

Ava felt like turning invisible right where she was sitting, letting herself vanish from the world as her anxiety continued to run high throughout her body. But there’d be no point to it, she was already invisible to the world anyway. Quantum powers wouldn’t make any difference. 

Only… it wouldn’t change the way Bucky saw her.

As confused and frightened as Ava was, she could only imagine what must be going through his mind right now. He was on his way to Capitol Hill right now with a lot riding on his shoulders even without this thing that had happened between them.

But Ava knew that no matter what, Bucky still cared deeply about her. She could see it in his eyes. She could taste it on his lips. She could feel it whenever they shared the same space together, that whatever else happened from here that he would always hold space in his heart for her.

And that scared her.

Ava knew that however Bucky was feeling, his intentions would always be pure. But for Ava herself? She didn’t know what she intended. As stated, Ava knew she lacked experience, and the guy that her head and her heart were in a war over was literally 110 years old. 

The age gap was probably the part that least concerned her.

What was Ava hoping to gain if she pursued her feelings to their “natural conclusion?” In other words, what did she want for her and Bucky? Did she just want a very close friendship with him, bonded as they already were over shared trauma and similar interests? Did she want the dating experience with him, “getting practice” for someone else later down the line? Did she want to settle down and marry him in some white-picket-fence bullshit fantasy?

Ava’s nails started digging into her leg as she banished the intrusive thoughts from her head before they could stick.

Main point being, Ava didn’t know what she wanted for herself when it came to Bucky. She was an absolute mess of a person with too many skeletons in her closet, and now here she was with a crush on her “coworker” with his own dark past that put hers to shame. Even if she just decided to throw caution to the wind and just go ahead with whatever this was, would it even work out in the end?

The only thing Ava knew with absolute certainty was that, despite the overwhelming panic and confusion she felt at this moment, Bucky was the only person in the world that made her feel seen. Known. Appreciated.

Loved.

Ava felt her breath escape her chest and her knees start to shake as the word crossed her thoughts. Did she love him? The word had come so easily to mind, she didn’t know whether this was her being naive and jumping the gun or if this is what she truly felt.

Ava had never been in love before. Didn’t know how to, really. She loved her parents, loved Bill, but… this was different. Ava had no clue how to care about anyone or anything beyond her own needs. And after all the things she’d done, she didn’t know if she had the capacity to love.

All Ava knew was that Bucky Barnes made her happy. She hadn’t felt happy in a lifetime.

Ava soon had the epiphany that no matter what it was she wanted from Bucky, no matter how she felt about him, she had to go into this with both eyes open. She had to understand him better. More to it, she wanted to help him with the baggage he clearly had yet to unpack. Ava had been as sincere as she’d ever been when she offered to listen to Bucky, and not because Bucky had asked her - no, begged her - that he be the one she talked to about her problems, either. 

Bucky hadn’t been pushy when he asked her; he was mindful of her boundaries and, like a gentleman, wouldn’t press her for anything. Ava didn’t know when or if she’d ever be ready to talk about what happened with Bill, but the way he said it, the tenderness in his voice and the sincerity in his eyes…

She would tell him. God as her witness, Ava would tell Bucky everything when she was ready.

But first, Ava needed to resolve her business here in DC. She had to prepare herself for when she was finally ready to face Bucky again. Ava knew that if they didn’t work out what had happened between them before they returned to New York, they might not get another chance. And Ava, for whatever reason, desperately wanted that chance.

Ava’s initial plan had been to go to the address that Yelena had given her, seeing as it was only a few blocks away from where she was at the moment. But after this morning with Bucky, and that damned kiss, Ava was all out of sorts and didn’t know if she was ready to face that just yet.

Ava had resolved today was the day. Just… not yet.

Ava knew that if she and Bucky were going to be… well, anything, it had to be mutual. They both had a lot to unpack, and Ava knew she had to understand him better, the things that he’d seen and done throughout his life. She had read some of the Winter Soldier files, but there was infinitely more to him than that.

She’d been a firsthand witness to it.

Of course, at the moment talking to Bucky was out of the question; the guy was probably at Capitol Hill by now and was gonna be occupied for most of the day. Ava didn’t know what they’d even talk about.

Or maybe we wouldn’t be able to talk at all, Ava thought, a shiver running down her spine at her intrusive, sensual thoughts. Damn Bucky Barnes for being such a good kisser.

Just then, another thought occurred to Ava. She turned her head to look at the Air and Space Museum. It wasn’t a complete lie when Ava told Bucky she had wanted to go into this place. As she understood it, there was a new exhibit about quantum physics that caught her interest, even if she’d probably spend more time looking at the rockets and airplanes. 

But that wasn’t the point. She was at the Smithsonian. The place people came from all over to learn everything about everything.

And she remembered that at this very museum was a particular exhibit that was germane to her confused thoughts.

An exhibit about old fossils, of a kind.

The thought had briefly crossed Ava’s mind this morning when she’d first woken up, having seen the pictures on Bucky’s nightstand and then seeing his Sergeant’s duds in his closet. But at the time that had been a passing fancy, more of a wry joke in her head than anything she was seriously considering doing.

That, of course, was before the snogging.

Ava recognized how extraordinarily tacky it was to kiss a guy and then afterwards go to a museum exhibit that was partially about him, but at the moment she couldn’t really think of anything better to do. She couldn’t talk to him, and she wasn’t ready for all the other things she was dreading, so maybe this would help settle some of her nerves.

That’s how Ava Starr ended up entering the Captain America exhibit with the intention of learning more about the life and times of Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes.

She walked through the metal detector, conscious of the fact that she still had Antonia Dreykov’s collapsible sword in her inner jacket pocket and not at all surprised it hadn’t tripped any alarms. Admission to the Smithsonian was free, but with everything else going on in her messed up brain, Ava almost unconsciously put a twenty into the donation box. 

Ava found the gallery she was looking for and stepped inside, being bombarded with signs and pictures and bright red, white, and blue colors all around. Inside the lobby were two bronze statues, one of Steve Rogers and another of Sam Wilson. Groups of schoolchildren and families were clustered together as they navigated in and out of the exhibit hallways. Tour guides were helping to herd people together as they prepared to lead them through.

Ironically enough, and she was embarrassed to admit this to anyone else at the Watchtower considering how much she loathed Walker and found Alexei’s stories boring, Ava had been a bit of a Captain America fan as a kid. Not a big fan, but a fan nonetheless.

Back home in Hull, there had been VHS copies of some of the wartime serials that Steve Rogers had starred in, back when he wore tights and pirate boots and his shield was a stage prop. Those had been from before he had been deployed into combat, before the Howling Commandos and the fight against Hydra.

Before Bucky had fought alongside him. Before he was lost to the Winter Soldier.

Needless to say, the films themselves were low-budget War Department drivel that she enjoyed watching on repeat. Sure, they weren’t Casablanca, but they were entertaining, even if Rogers’ acting abilities left something to be desired. Her favorite was the one about him fighting off a German Panzer battalion under Rommel almost singlehandedly, even if it was historically inaccurate because Captain America never fought in North Africa.

No, his first official action had been in November 1943, when he parachuted behind enemy lines into Austria. When he disobeyed orders to rescue his best friend, the man who had his back from the schoolyard to the battlefield.

The man that Ava was almost certain she was in love with.

At any rate, Ava wasn’t here for Captain America. Though she supposes that considering how close Steve was to Bucky, it would help to know more about him. Bucky never really talked about Steve, and surprisingly neither Alexei or Walker broached the subject with him, or about what exactly happened at the Avengers Compound back in 2023 in that final fight against Thanos. 

Ava had never really been curious about what had happened. At the time, she had been… preoccupied. Still, she knew a few details.

Half the world’s population came back to life after five years as dust, instantly thrust into a changed world that had moved on from them.

Tony Stark and Natasha Romanoff were dead, the latter having a grievous impact that Ava could see in Yelena and Alexei almost every day. 

Scott Lang and Hope van Dyne had been there, fighting side by side. Fighting a battle far more worthwhile than their one against Ava and her petty and selfish desire to live at any cost.

Bucky had been there, having fought against Thanos in Wakanda in 2018, turned to dust for five years, then upon his return immediately fought him again. Even death couldn’t stop Bucky Barnes from fighting. His whole life, all he ever seemed to do was fight. It didn’t matter if it was a back alley, a warzone, an alien invasion, or a nigh-invincible demigod with the power to make people experience their worst nightmares, Bucky was always ready and willing to fight.

Even after all that the war and Hydra and Thanos and his own government had taken from him, Bucky was still fighting.

But Ava wanted to know one thing: Why? What drove him to fight? What kept him going? Why was he still fighting, and what would it take for him to stop?

That last part was something of a pipe dream and Ava knew it. And it wasn’t because of the Avengers either. Ava knew that there was a part of him that was always going to keep fighting. Fighting to stay alive. Fighting for purpose. Fighting because he has nothing else.

Ava knew this because she too had been fighting this fight her entire life. Though in her case, her reasons were far less noble.

Ava realized she’d been standing in place too long, lost in her own thoughts as she was. She wasn’t going to learn more about Bucky just by standing around here, so without further ado, she entered the exhibit.

There were two main wings, one dedicated to Steve Rogers and the past, the other on Sam Wilson and the present. Unlike Steve, Sam Wilson had come up in conversation around the Watchtower, though precisely none of it had been initiated by Bucky. Whenever the topic of Wilson came up from Yelena or Walker or Alexei, usually in response to something happening in the news or with the team’s PR, Bucky was quick to shut his mouth and find something else to occupy himself, something that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Ava or the others. But that was something for another time.

Ava entered the Steve Rogers wing, her baseball cap tucked over her head and her hands in her jacket pockets and hoped she wouldn’t be recognized. Most of the panels and stuff she gave cursory glances to, mainly stuff about Steve and his poor health and his prewar activities, with little to no information about Bucky other than a name drop here and there.

As she passed by various artifacts and photographs, she saw branching wings from the one she was standing in. One was for Isaiah Bradley, the “Forgotten Cap” of the Korean War, who had spent the better part of his existence either in a prison cell or being poked and prodded in a lab by uncaring Hydra scientists. Someone seen as an expendable asset and treated as less than human.

Now where had Ava seen any of that before?

There was another branching wing, almost invisible to anyone not actively searching for it, with small, plain lettering overtop the dark entryway:

John Walker: Fallen Hero

Ava made no secret about how much she loathed Walker, either to him or to anyone else. The guy was arrogant, abrasive, and just plain annoyed her. She trusted him about as far as she could throw him. Any opportunity she could take to get away from the prick, she did in a heartbeat.

But even still, Ava felt uneasy knowing that they had a whole wing dedicated to Walker and his brief stint as Captain America as well as how he buggered the whole thing in a matter of days. Like how none of his previous service to his country mattered, how it was that one bad moment that was going to define him for the rest of his life, no matter what US Agent did from now on as one of the Avengers. 

Ava had read the articles around the time it had happened and took them at their word. When she first encountered Walker and his inflated opinion of himself in the Vault, it didn’t help his case at all. His whole demeanor annoyed Ava to the point she just started parroting what she’d read, that he had killed an innocent man in broad daylight in a rage, hoping that would shut him up. 

The articles hadn’t mentioned Lemar Hoskins at all.

As far as the media were concerned, all they could see was the new Captain America bludgeoning a man to death with Steve Rogers’ shield, and they all jumped to the same conclusion, just as Ava did. Lemar Hoskins and the Flag-Smashers simply didn’t exist.

Bucky had told them all some weeks back what had happened, when Walker had gone all quiet and wouldn’t talk to anyone for several days. He had been there that day in Riga. He had watched as that man - Nico, was it? - tried to kill Walker. Now, he hadn’t been the one to kill Lemar - that was Karli Morgenthau, their leader - but he had stopped Walker from saving him. He was an accomplice in Lemar’s murder.

But the people in the streets of Riga didn’t know or care. The only thing they saw was the symbol for America killing a man whose last words were proclaiming his innocence. Walker had gone way too far, but the optics didn’t help him, nor did his own government. They just swept him and Lemar under the rug when they became… inconvenient. 

Ava thought back to that moment sometimes, in the Vault. Not a regret per se, but she recognized she’d been a hypocrite. She still hated Walker because he was a selfish prick, but maybe had she known the full story she would’ve kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t like her hands were clean and she hadn’t made the rash choice to take someone’s life without considering the consequences. 

Antonia Dreykov’s lifeless body, which had been laying only a few feet away from them at the time, was proof of this. But there had been more besides her.

Ava moved on past the wing; she would spare Walker that indignity at least. 

Ava had to keep reminding herself that she wasn’t here for Captain America. Steve Rogers, John Walker, Sam Wilson, Isaiah Bradley… that was something for another time.

She was here for Bucky.

The Steve Rogers exhibit continued to go on and on. Details about his failed medical exams. Training at Camp Lehigh. Project Rebirth and Doctor Erskine. The war bond drive and the movies.

Then Ava saw it. Him.

A large mural of Captain America and his Howling Commandos, along with their uniforms and equipment. Depicted over Rogers’ left shoulder was the younger Bucky Barnes, hair short with minimal stubble and gazing off into the middle distance, the scars of the Winter Soldier nowhere to be seen. Below the mural was a recreation of the battle fatigues he’d worn as a Howling Commando, the dark blue pea coat and trousers and boots overtop a mannequin. 

This is what she’d been searching for.

Ava navigated the gallery some more, taking in every last bit she could about Bucky she could find. The further she went, her greed for more knowledge grew.

There was a faded reprint of Captain America Comics No. 1, the one with the iconic image of him socking Adolf Hitler on the jaw. Only on this one, the colors of Cap’s shield were all mismatched, and on the bottom of the page was the look of some rosy-cheeked teenage boy in a ridiculous getup doing a salute, and the caption next to it read, “Also Captain America’s young ally, Bucky!”

Ava had to cover her mouth and nose with both hands to keep from losing herself to a giggling fit right then and there. Once she’d settled down, she snapped a picture of the comic. Now that would be something to share later.

Moving on, Ava saw more artifacts of Bucky’s past.

They had his M1928 Thompson in a display case, scratched and worn from continuous use.

There was a map that Bucky had drawn when they did aerial reconnaissance of German gun emplacements in Normandy just prior to D-Day. 

There were non-functioning models of Hydra energy rifles from when the 107th raided one of their facilities in Poland. 

There was a silver pocket watch Bucky had taken off an SS officer at Aachen, which had a dent in it from when a Nazi sniper tried to get him later that same day; evidently it saved his life.

There was leftover parachute silk from Overlord and Market-Garden he’d smuggled stateside, along with a note to his mother to make it into a dress for “Becca.” Ava figured she already knew who Becca was, and she gulped. Evidently, Bucky’s mother had ended up not making the dress after all, since the date of the note was less than a week before he had fallen from the train.

It was the very last time the Barnes family ever heard from him, Ava realized.

Images flashed in Ava’s mind now. Men in uniform with shiny medals and solemn expressions knocking on the door of a Brooklyn apartment building, taking their hats off and breaking the news to them all that James wasn’t coming home. She sees a mother weeping, a father stunned into silence, and a little girl…

Ava never had any siblings. She lost her parents at a young age and that had been unbearable as it was. She couldn’t imagine what the pain must have been like for that little girl to hear her brother was gone… or so they all thought. 

Now all Ava could think about was how Bucky must’ve felt once he’d broken free of Hydra’s control. That had been over a decade ago now. What happened to his sister? Was she still alive? Had Bucky been to see her? Did she ever find out that her brother was alive after all this time?

Ava pressed her fingers to her temples, the whole experience being much too overwhelming for her. It didn’t really resolve her inner turmoil over her feelings for Bucky, but at least now she learned more about him he hadn’t yet shared. Maybe this would help him, help them, try and find a path forward.

Ava continued past the artifacts, trying to collect her thoughts before being met with a blown up black-and-white photograph of Bucky, and next to it was a placard containing the following short biography:

JAMES BUCHANAN “BUCKY” BARNES: FRIEND AND BROTHER

(b. 10 March 1917)

Born in Brooklyn, New York to George and Winnifred Barnes, young James Barnes grew up the eldest of four children, of which only himself and one sister survived to adulthood. An excellent athlete who also excelled in the classroom, Barnes befriended Steve Rogers at an early age, and the pair became inseparable from the playgrounds of Brooklyn, to the battlefields of Europe, and finally in protecting the world together among Earth’s Mightiest Heroes.

Barnes enlisted in the Army shortly after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. After winter training at Camp McCoy, Wisconsin, Barnes was assigned to the 107th Infantry Regiment of the New York National Guard, where his outstanding performance as a marksman, demolitions specialist, and squad leader quickly earned him the rank of Sergeant. Though encouraged by superiors to apply for officer candidate school (OCS) due to his excellent record, Barnes declined to leave the enlisted ranks, believing himself to be more valuable to the war effort on the front lines. Even during his tour of duty in the European Theater of Operations, both as a regular soldier and as a Howling Commando, Barnes repeatedly refused the battlefield commissions offered to him through his bravery on the battlefield.

“Bucky,” as he was known to his friends, was shipped out alongside the rest of the 107th in the Summer of 1943, undergoing further training in England while the Allied Invasion of Sicily (Operation Husky) was underway. The 107th was then seconded to the US Fifth Army under the command of Lt. Gen. Mark W. Clark, and the unit experienced its baptism by fire during Operation Avalanche when they landed at Salerno, Italy in September 1943. Despite taking heavy casualties, the 107th distinguished themselves for valor at Salerno, and Sergeant Barnes earned his first Silver Star for his efforts in helping to liberate nearby villages from Nazi troops and Italian Blackshirt partisans.

Barnes’ time as an ordinary soldier would be cut short, however, as the Allies pressed further towards Rome. In November 1943, the 107th encountered stiff resistance from German forces at the Battle of Azzano, which was interrupted by the sudden arrival of Hydra paramilitary forces. Hydra, the Nazi deep science division which had since defected from Germany, surrounded both the Axis and Allied troops, using highly advanced weaponry to kill or capture roughly 75% of all troops present. Survivors either fled back to friendly lines or were brought back as prisoners to a Hydra weapons development facility in Kreischburg, Austria.

Sergeant Barnes had been captured alongside the rest of the survivors of the 107th, where he endured long periods of isolation, deprivation, torture, and - unbeknownst to Barnes at the time - medical experimentation, though his will remained strong. In an ironic twist of fate, his prison camp was liberated by none other than his childhood friend Steve Rogers - now the super soldier Captain America - who disobeyed direct orders to save his life and the lives of over four hundred Allied POWs. 

Upon their escape from captivity, the 107th Infantry was reassigned to the Strategic Scientific Reserve (SSR). Reunited with his closest friend, Barnes became second-in-command of Rogers’ newly founded unit, the Howling Commandos, and they began the long and hard fight against the forces of both Hydra and Nazi Germany.

Barnes’ marksmanship skills were an invaluable asset to the Howling Commandos, as Captain America led his team through some of the most harrowing campaigns of the European Theater, disrupting Wehrmacht troop movements and destroying Hydra bases in the quest to liberate the world from the forces of tyranny. Barnes saw further action with the Howling Commandos in Italy, Austria, France, the Netherlands, Belgium, Yugoslavia, Poland, and into the heart of Germany itself.

In March 1945, shortly after his 28th birthday and less than two months before Germany’s surrender, Barnes took part in one last mission in service to his country. Their target was a Hydra armored transport in the Austrian Alps. Barnes, Rogers, and Howling Commando Gabriel Jones raided the transport in the hope of capturing Hydra head scientist Arnim Zola. The mission was a success, but it came at a heavy price. Barnes had been thrown from the transport and was believed to have been killed in action. It was not until 2014, nearly seventy years later, that it was revealed that Barnes was alive, having been found and captured by Soviet forces working for Hydra. Unbeknownst to Rogers or anyone else at the time, Barnes was transformed from an American patriot into a mind-controlled Hydra assassin known as the Winter Soldier.

There was more text after this, about how Bucky was remembered fondly by his comrades in the 107th and friends from home and Steve Rogers himself and yada-yada-yada, but there was nothing else about him as the Winter Soldier or as a fugitive or as one of the Avengers or even as a Congressman. Ava looked at the corner of the panel and became frustrated seeing that it hadn’t been updated in a few years.

Ava began looking around the Howling Commandos exhibit but found nothing more. Nothing about what became of his family. Nothing about the grueling torture he’d endured while under Hydra’s control. Nothing about the Winter Soldier’s victims or the horrific crimes Hydra was responsible for. Nothing about Alexander Pierce and the Major and what they made him do.

No, this was a Captain America exhibit after all. Everything had to be sanitized as a “heroic struggle” rather than the immense pain and suffering she knew he lived with every single day. There was too much schmaltz for her liking, too much of that “Greatest Generation” bullshit talking about some great war hero and not really taking into account this was a man who lost his arm, his freedom, his era, and everything and everyone he ever cared about.

But still, Bucky kept on fighting.

“Why?” Ava asked aloud to no one in particular, gazing at Bucky’s mural, of the man he had used to be so long ago. She was at a complete loss about where he found the strength to keep going, to always trying to do good and be good.

Her question was answered in less than a heartbeat after she’d asked it.

“Because it’s a fight worth fighting,” came the sound of Bucky’s voice, causing Ava to jump.

Ava looked all around her, panicking and wondering if Bucky had decided to ditch Congress and followed her into the exhibit, waiting for the proper time to speak up. But Bucky - the real Bucky - was nowhere in sight. 

“I think most of us felt the same way when we joined up,” came Bucky’s voice again, except it wasn’t Bucky’s voice. At least, not himself in person. There was a muffled crackle in the voice, like an old audio recording. Ava turned in the direction of where the voice came from and saw a shrouded doorway that said “Theater” overtop.

Ava pulled the shroud back and entered the theater, where she saw a handful of people sitting on benches as a digital projector played an old wartime film. Ava took a seat and watched as Bucky Barnes, circa 1944, was being interviewed by a war correspondent from the BBC. 

Ava sat at attention as she watched Bucky speak to the interviewer. He was in his battle fatigues and sitting in an old chair in some dusty-looking parlor, probably in France or Holland or somewhere. The footage was in black-and-white and extraordinarily grainy, but there was no mistaking that this was indeed the Bucky she knew - or rather, the Bucky that he used to be. Dashing good looks, confidence, and a smile to die for.

“I mean, it was easy after Pearl Harbor. We’d been attacked. A lot of us wanted payback, y’know? But even before Pearl Harbor, you could see everything going on in the world and things getting worse and worse and sooner or later you just got this urge to say, ‘Enough’s enough, leave the rest of the world alone,” Bucky spoke with clearheadedness. 

“Not everyone feels the same way,” the correspondent offered. Not that he was disagreeing, but just making an observation, “A lot of people dreaded the idea of going through another war like the last one.”

“And they’re right to feel that way, ” Bucky said, “But you don’t avoid a war by ignoring it, either. You don’t ignore tyrants like Hitler or the Red Skull. You step up and knock ‘em stiff, and hopefully we do a good enough job that people listen this time.”

“Do you think people will listen? Once the war is over?” the correspondent asked.

“I dunno, ask me again when we roll into Berlin,” Bucky responded with a grin.

“Can you tell us a little more about your experiences prior to fighting with Captain America?” the correspondent had asked, “You were at the Salerno landings last September, correct?”

“Salerno, yes… yes I was,” Bucky said, placing his hands together, “Wasn’t a pretty fight, but… we got the job done.”

“You earned the Silver Star during that campaign?” the correspondent asked.

“Lot of guys earned a lot of medals in Italy,” Bucky answered, “The Krauts put up one hell of a fight, but we whooped ‘em good in the end.”

“Not just the Germans either, as I understand,” the correspondent asked, “Italian guerilla fighters as well?”

“A few,” Bucky spoke simply, “Most people were overjoyed when Il Duce was thrown out of power, but… there’s always gonna be a few holdouts. Still are, actually. Fascists are cockroaches like that.”

Bucky was still smiling, but Ava could see the strain even through the grainy footage. It was the same forced smile she knew well, the same one she’d seen in the Paris photograph. Ava could also see he was now brushing his right thumb over the knuckles on his left hand. It was hard to make out in this footage, but Ava knew he had had scars there. He did it as if it were a tic, like when she used to bite her nails as a teenager, and neither he nor the correspondent interviewing him seemed to pay much mind to it.

But Ava did. Something had happened in Salerno. Something Bucky didn’t feel comfortable with sharing.

“Must have been quite the shakeup, going from that to fighting Hydra now and all,” the correspondent noted.

“Well, things have certainly got weird, that’s for sure, but… I’m fighting with Captain America. Never been a greater honor in my life,” Bucky responded, his expression more relaxed than it had been a moment before. The rubbing of his knuckles stopped.

“One last question if I may, Sergeant,” the correspondent began, “You said just a moment ago this was, in your view, a fight worth fighting. Are there moments where you doubt at all?”

The past Bucky took a deep breath, then said, “Every day. I have doubts every day. Sometimes I doubt me or my buddies will make it back in one piece, but… I can’t afford to let it consume me. Too many people count on us to win this war. Too many people I care about. And I think that’s the main thing, war or no war. You hang tough for the people you care about. Even if it hurts, you don’t give up. You face the challenges head-on and you do what you know is right.”

Ava took in every last word like it was gospel. Bucky may have been more jaded today, but the conviction was the same. That strength to keep going. That drive to always do the right thing. 

Bucky Barnes had known pain and suffering for most of his life. He still did. They had taken his freedom and his identity, but they never killed his spirit. Ava didn’t know it at the time, but she had seen that same spirit when he’d protected her from the Major. It was the spirit that made him who he was, the spirit that gave Ava hope that she could be better than she was.

It was the spirit of the man she loved.

Ava thought hard about what he said, about facing challenges head-on even if it hurts. Repeatedly, she drilled the words into her skull, trying to work up the motivation for what she knew was coming next.

Ava couldn’t delay any longer. She was ready for what was coming next. She had come to DC to settle her affairs. She was going to put this thing with Antonia Dreykov to bed once and for all.

Bucky had given her the push she needed.

Ava got up from her seat, exited the museum, and stepped outside into the late morning sun. It was looking to be a beautiful day, but Ava wasn’t going to let anything else distract her now. She was too wound up. She was going to do this now.

After walking down the street a few blocks, Ava was standing outside of an apartment complex. She checked her phone to confirm it was the very address that Yelena had gotten from the CIA’s files.

This was where Antonia Dreykov had lived. 

It was crazy to think that Antonia had a place right smack dab in the middle of Washington, DC, though maybe not too crazy because it put her in easy reach of Valentina. Yelena had done the same. How the two never ended up crossing paths while they both did mercenary work on behalf of OXE they’d never know, but Valentina was nothing if not ruthlessly efficient.

Ava’s blood boiled at the thought of that bitch.

Ava didn’t have a place of her own. She moved from place to place, town to town, always under an assumed name and always paying in cash. Even when she had been working directly for Valentina, she never stopped moving. The Watchtower had been the first place she’d stayed longer than a month, ever since… well, ever since she left Bill.

But Antonia had a place all her own, it seemed. 

Ava looked at the names next to the buzzers, and after finding the correct number, she also found the name Antonia had used while she lived here.

T. Masters

Evidently, she had a sense of humor. If Ava didn’t feel such an overwhelming amount of dread, she would have laughed. But she had no right. Not with this. Not at this place.

Checking for cameras or any onlookers and seeing none, Ava turned herself invisible and phased through the front door. She made her way up the stairs to the appropriate apartment, and she paused.

She was really doing this. She was really going to breach what little privacy Antonia had left.

But Ava needed to know. She needed to know what she had stolen from her.

Ava took a deep breath and phased through the door, preparing herself for what was to come.

What she hadn’t counted on was finding nothing whatsoever.

Antonia’s apartment was even more sparse than Bucky’s home or even her room at the Watchtower. No furniture, no paintings, no TV, no books, no knicknacks, no weapons, nothing. Just gray walls and carpet. It was either like nobody ever lived here, or someone had done a thorough job cleaning it…

That explained it. Valentina. She had sent all of them to die. Antonia, Yelena, Walker, herself… she hadn’t counted on any of them making it out of that Vault alive. She counted on them all being turned to ash to protect her career and keep herself out of prison. She wanted zero trace of any of them.

Antonia had been the only unlucky one. 

It seemed as if OXE must’ve gotten here first, cleared out everything that might have indicated someone lived here. Couldn’t leave anything up to chance, couldn’t she? Not when she was now publicly backing the New Avengers.

Ava felt a numbness surge through her as she took in the sight of the empty apartment. She had come here for closure. She needed to know who Antonia Dreykov was. And now there was nothing left.

No, there had to have been something here. There had to have been a screwup somewhere and something got left behind.

Ava checked the walls, the floors, the kitchen cabinets, the closets, inside the walls, hoping for any trace that Antonia had indeed been real, that she was an actual person who had lived and died.

Ava frantically searched up and down, left and right, longways and slantways, nothing.

The only things she could find were a couple of coat hangers, a broken iron, and an empty bedframe.

Nothing that said anything about who Antonia had be-

That’s when she saw it.

Out of the corner of her eye, just barely obscured by the bedframe. It was so small even Ava was surprised she noticed it.

Ava stepped into the bedframe, got down onto her hands and knees, and grabbed it. She then sat herself down on the floor, held it in her grasp, and looked at what it was.

It was a Skittles wrapper.

Well, part of one anyway. Only the first three letters were visible. But there was no mistaking it was a Skittles wrapper. The apartment had been completely stripped clean, but the one thing left behind was a torn candy wrapper.

That’s when the tears began to well up in Ava’s eyes.

Her hands started to shake, as if the rubbish in her hands somehow weighed a million pounds. The wrapper fell to the floor, as did the first tears.

Ten seconds.

That’s all it was. Ten seconds between when Antonia’s brains had been blown out and when Ava first heard Bob’s groans as he woke up from his chamber. A lousy, worthless ten seconds.

Ava had felt nothing when she put that bullet in Antonia’s skull. She had never met her and didn’t know her, not even by reputation. She was her target, the one Valentina assigned to her. The job was to go in, kill her, and get out. Just like all the others. And Ava was quite good at her job.

She didn’t even feel anything when it was revealed Valentina had set them all up. When she had asked Yelena who she was, regret was not what was on her mind. But Ava could not stop herself wondering about the what ifs. 

“She had a tough life. She killed a lot of people and then she got killed. Same as us someday.”

That’s what Yelena said. And Ava thought that was enough.

Turns out, the Void revealed that Ava had been lying to herself.

She remembers when she stepped into the Void after Yelena. Why had she been so quick to rush in? Bucky was right, she had no way of knowing if Yelena was still alive. She didn’t see what Walker and Yelena had seen, she’d been the only one of their little Vault quartet that had been spared having to deal with her own personal hell for at least a short while. 

Among her whole assortment of nightmares, this had been one she didn’t realize she had. Ava watched the events of the previous day play in front of her, again and again. Each time the gunshot got louder. Each time she winced from the booming echo which caused her molecules to flicker. How had she been able to do something so horrific with such ease? Years and years of practice? First with SHIELD, then with Valentina?

Then Bob - or the Void, whatever that thing was - peered at her with those little white specks emerging from the darkness.

“Ah, Ava,” the Void had told her in that warped version of Bob’s voice, “Why is it that everyone around you seems to die?”

Ava, consumed in her grief and rage as she was, drew out the sword, the same one she’d looted from Antonia’s corpse, and tried to cut the Void down. But the moment she did the scene reset again - only this time she wasn’t looking at herself killing Antonia.

The gun was in her hand.

The apparition of Taskmaster approached her with menace, twirling her sword in place as she brandished her shield. She didn’t know what game Bob was playing, so Ava tried running away.

Taskmaster had been there too. Every time Ava tried taking off in a new direction the ghost of Antonia Dreykov would always be in front of her.

“You have a job to do, Agent Starr,” the Void had taunted, “Get to it.”

Taskmaster had closed the distance. Ava squeezed her eyes tight shut as she pulled the trigger again. Ava opened them again and saw that, unlike before, Taskmaster did not fall. There was a smoking hole in her mask. She continued to stand there, and Ava’s heart began beating uncontrollably.

Suddenly, the mask retracted, and Ava saw Antonia Dreykov’s face. There was a bullet hole in her forehead to join the burns she’d received when she had been just a child.

Ava did not know what was more terrifying at that moment. That Antonia was still standing with a hole in her head - or the fact she had never even seen Antonia’s face before this. That was not part of her memory. It didn’t go like this. 

“You can’t change it, Ava,” the visage of Antonia had spoken, “You can’t bring me back. You can’t save Yelena. You’ll never be a hero.”

“SHUT UP!” Ava had screamed at the phantom, and pulled the trigger again. Antonia had disappeared, but another figure had taken her place - as well as the bullet.

That FBI agent - Stoltz, that dirty one that was working for Sonny Burch - was laying on the floor with a bullet in his chest. That hadn’t been how he died either.

“Remember me?” the agent had spoken with a wicked grin, “You can’t change this either.”

“No…” Ava spoke in horror as blood drooled out of the man’s wicked grin, “Oh please, no…”

“You know what happens after this,” Stoltz continued to grin at her, “You know what you did to Bill. Ah, if only you’d been able to control that temper of yours, that bloodlust… but hey, anything to survive, right? What’s one more body as long as the Ghost can pretend she’s still alive?”

“NO!” Ava screamed again, tears running down her face. She tore her gaze away from Stoltz, threw the gun on the floor and cried out, “YOU NEED TO STOP THIS, BOB! NOW!”

“Or what?” the Void taunted again, “You’ll kill me? How original, especially from you.”

Ava saw the apparition of the Void and she charged towards him, arms stretched forward, intending to phase into his chest and stop him if that’s what it took.

Ava fell through the Void and onto a cold, hardwood floor. She picked herself up and started scanning the room around her.

She saw herself. And she saw Bill.

“Oh no,” were the words that escaped from Ava’s lips as she recognized her surroundings, “Nonononononono…. Please, Bob, not this one… please…”

Ava was no stranger to nightmares. The death of her parents and everything done to her by SHIELD or Hydra or whatever they were called occupied her constantly. 

But the Void made them more common. More vivid. And Antonia Dreykov lived in her head almost every night.

Not long after they’d been branded the New Avengers, Ava had asked Yelena about Antonia. Yelena didn’t know her well, but she still knew her. Still knew what she’d gone through. Still had been so incredibly callous and uncaring about her death like she never meant anything to anybody.

All Yelena could give Ava were the facts. Her father was in charge of the Red Room. He put Alexei in a gulag when he was no longer useful. He separated Yelena from her sister and put them both through the Black Widow program. Natasha Romanoff had tried to kill him but only succeeded in blowing Antonia halfway to hell. Her father had rebuilt her into the perfect weapon and took away her autonomy. Hooked her up to a computer. Pumped her brain full of mind-controlling chemicals. Made her kill for him. Turned her into a monster.

As horrible as Ava’s life had been, she at least had Bill. Someone who genuinely cared for her and wanted to see her safe. Antonia’s own father had ruined her, and there was no one else that cared for her.

Yelena had killed Dreykov about a decade ago. Natasha had freed Antonia from his control, making amends for what she did to her in Budapest. The other liberated Widows had taken her with them, hoping that they all could find a path forward together.

But Yelena had said she left not long after that. She didn’t know why, but one day she just left them all without any explanation whatsoever. That had been the last any of them had seen of her - until that day in the Vault three months ago. The day that she died.

Ava looked down at the Skittles wrapper lying on the floor, the tears continuing to spill from her.

What if Ava had waited just a little bit longer before pulling that trigger? Those ten lousy seconds she could never get back? What would have happened?

She can picture it in her mind now. They all point their guns at each other and Bob and figure out that Valentina had set them all up. Maybe Antonia would’ve had some input on how to get out without having to endure any of Yelena or Walker’s bullshit. Maybe she would’ve had a better idea on how to scale that elevator shaft than Bob’s half-arsed idea straight out of The Emperor’s New Groove that almost got them all killed. Maybe she had a strategy that could’ve gotten all of them (including Bob) away from all those OXE soldiers. 

Maybe in those quiet moments when they weren’t busy trying not to get killed, they could have bonded. Ava knew what it was like to grow up in a lab, treated like you were never human and never have any contact with anyone. Yelena and Antonia had both been under Dreykov’s mind control, maybe there was something there. Hell, even Bucky might have been able to relate there; there were very few people who could.

Maybe Antonia could have been one of them. She could’ve been an Avenger. Or at the very least a Thunderbolt. She could’ve been in the Watchtower for movie nights or sparring sessions or trauma bonding or even joining Ava in roasting the shit out of Walker; he had been Antonia’s target after all.

Maybe she would’ve tried sharing Skittles with the rest of them.

But now they would never know. They would never know what she was like as a person. They would never know what drove her to start working for Valentina to begin with. There had been a chance, and now she was gone. 

With trembling hands, Ava pulled Antonia’s sword from her jacket pocket and pressed the switch that extended the blade.

This and a goddamn Skittles wrapper were the only things left of Antonia Dreykov. 

As Ava turned the sword over in her hands, another one of her intrusive thoughts crossed her mind. But right now she was too wrapped up in grief and despair to even care.

She took the sword and plunged the blade towards herself.

Ava felt nothing. She looked down and saw the blade going through her torso, but there was no blood. Ava had phased so that the sword would pass harmlessly through her.

Lucky me.

Ava sat there like this, Antonia’s sword sticking through her, until finally she pressed the switch on the sword handle and the blade retracted again. She let the sword fall from her grasp, and then Ava’s tears became full-on heavy sobs as her head sank into the carpet.

Ava was bawling her eyes out, completely helpless and out of control, as deep remorse and self-loathing consumed her.

At that moment, Ava desperately wanted Bucky there by her side. She wanted him to wrap his arms around her, to tell her that everything was going to be alright even when everything clearly wasn’t.

No, she thought to herself. After everything she’d done, she didn’t deserve Bucky. Bucky was everything she wasn’t, a selfless hero of unparalleled conviction that still kept his spirit no matter what life had thrown at him. All Ava had ever managed to do was hurt or alienate everything and everyone she ever cared about. 

If Bucky actually loved her, Ava knew he could do so much better than her. What did she have to offer? A lifetime of regret, self-hating, and molecular instability? What man in their right mind would love somebody like that?

Bucky deserved someone who wasn’t at her level of messed up. Everything Ava did wrong in her life was of her own volition. Bucky never got a choice when it came to those hurt by the Winter Soldier; Ava had made her choices.

“Antonia… I’m so, so sorry…” Ava blurted aloud between muffled sobs, “Whoever you were… please forgive me…”

Ava reached out and grabbed the torn Skittles wrapper, and her grip was so tight her knuckles turned white.

Chapter Text

“Congressman Barnes! Danielle Speirs, WHIH News. Can you tell us what we can expect from today’s session of the House-”

“-it been like as leader of the Avengers-”

“-some light on what happened in Manhattan three months ago-”

“-your position on John Walker changed at all since-”

“-ex-Russian assets representing the American government-” 

“-but is Sam Wilson still Captain America? And if so, is he-”

“-your leadership of the Avengers leave you with time for Congressional duties?”

“-and the Bugle’s readers deserve to know about-”

“-allegations of collusion with Director de Fontaine spell doom for-”

“-this ‘Bob’ character that’s been seen with-”

“-taxpayers’ money on your fancy penthouse tower-”

“-does this mark the return of the Winter Soldier?”

The sound of the reporters’ ceaseless questions echoed in Bucky’s ears, but he paid them absolutely no mind as he ascended Capitol Hill. 

Briefcase in hand, he shuffled up the countless steps to the top despite reporters from all ends trying their hardest to make him spill even a morsel of gossip to use in their articles and podcasts and inane political commentary. But he would give them nothing.

Even if there hadn’t been Capitol police doing their best to hold back the maddening crowds down below, Bucky still would have had no trouble passing them all by without even so much as a “no comment.” He marshalled forward, his full attention consumed and his body moving almost on autopilot, towards the entrance of the Capitol.

But it wasn’t anxiety about the upcoming session of the House of Representatives that had consumed him. No, it was something infinitely more important.

Bucky Barnes had fallen in love.

When he was young, he knew what it was like to have a crush. To kiss girls and hold hands and go for walks in the park and all that jazz. Those years had been fun and he’d had fun. But that wasn’t love. And what he was feeling for Ava Starr was certainly not a crush.

The burning sensation Bucky felt inside his heart was unlike anything he’d ever felt before. He’d been consumed with… something. He couldn’t find the words for it. Passion? No, too base, too carnal. Desire? That sounded misogynist and objectifying.

But whatever the word for it was, Bucky was drawn to Ava like a moth to a flame. No other woman in his life ever made him feel this way before. It was invigorating, even if right now his knees felt like they were about to buckle as he continued to trudge up the stairs.

Bucky was still riding the high of their kiss, that tender moment they shared that emerged from the aether. That had certainly not been in his plans for today, or ever for that matter. But again, Bucky felt himself drawn to Ava in a way he never expected. He could still feel the soft brush of her lips against his, much softer than he had previously assumed, and the way their bodies radiated heat like a stove in winter. He didn’t want the moment to end. He wanted them to stay just as they were, lost in the taste of each other, letting everything else fade away and pretending they were the only people on Earth.

She’d even called him James again, too. Like it was instinct for her. And more and more, Bucky started to like the sound of his birth name than he ever had in his life. There was a strength there, feeling comfortable in his own skin. Ava did that for him. And for that, Bucky would be forever grateful.

Deep down, however, Bucky knew that no matter how wonderful it was or how much joy they’d both gotten from it, things had progressed much faster than he’d anticipated, and right now he was just as terrified as he was happy. 

There was that part of him that always doubted, always mistrusted, was always scanning for threats. He could easily blame Hydra for that - which he did - but it also had been a rule of thumb growing up in Depression-era Brooklyn not to walk on the wrong side of the street. In any case, every logical reason for why he shouldn’t feel ecstatic like he was right now took up his focus.

First and foremost, the age gap. Yelena and Walker liked to make quips about his age but it wasn’t anything he was ever that self-conscious about. Hell, even he cracked jokes about his age just because of how ridiculous it was that he’d been alive for over a century. Most of it had been in cryostasis but that wasn’t the point; he was legally 110 years old, and he still wasn’t sure what his actual biological age was.

Bucky had dated in this century, but because none of those encounters ever really went anywhere the age thing didn’t really register with him. But with Ava, now that he was well aware of what those harbored feelings of his actually were… Well, it alarmed him. Especially considering the fact he’d first met her when she was nineteen which made it all the more weird. They were both adults, but still it was a very wide gap.

Which led Bucky to his second concern, being Ava’s experience - or rather, the lack thereof. Bucky already resolved he would never force anything with her, that whatever happened would happen naturally, but he didn’t know what was going on inside her head. He couldn’t ever be sure Ava knew what she was getting herself into. Not that he didn’t trust her to make her own decisions, but there was that creeping doubt that there was that part of her that never matured into adulthood, and his fear that from her end, their encounter had merely been a moment of naive passion and a craving for physical intimacy. That it wasn’t the foundation for a stronger and more mature connection they could work towards.

And oh, how badly Bucky wanted that connection.

The third concern was probably the most nakedly obvious, the team dynamic. They would eventually go back to New York and the Watchtower, back to the New Avengers and their conflicting personalities and whatever new missions awaited them. Bucky realized no matter what ended up happening, he was going to be facing Ava every day in the Watchtower with the knowledge they had shared that moment with each other. How would that affect the team? Would Bucky be able to effectively lead when they went into battle, or would it cloud his judgment? Maybe he could relinquish his co-leader role and let Yelena take over fully; it would make things less awkward at least.

But regardless, it would shake up their already fragile routine they’d established for themselves these past three months. And Bucky would no longer be seeing Ava as just his colleague or even as just a friend. Things had changed between them, and Bucky was scared.

Before they went back to New York, Bucky knew he was going to have to talk to Ava. They needed to clear the air about what they’d done and discuss where to go from here. It could end horribly or it could be the beginning of something wonderful, whatever came first. But sooner or later they were going to have to account for what happened, and Bucky’s throat felt dry at the thought of what would be coming. 

His thoughts turned for a moment to what they’d discussed right before they kissed, about talking to each other about… the other stuff. Their baggage, whatever you wanted to call it. But there was only so much Bucky could allow to consume him at one time. He knew when the time was right, they would get to it. But for now, both Bucky and Ava had their own business to settle.

Bucky had a pretty good idea of where Ava was right now. He hoped – prayed – that it would bring her the peace she was seeking.

But for Bucky? Right now, he was heading into the lion’s den.

After what seemed like an eternity of climbing stairs that would knock the wind out of Rocky Balboa, Bucky entered the Great Rotunda. Around him were groups of tourists gathered to view the artwork on the walls and ceiling; Bucky took a moment to crane his neck and admire The Apotheosis of Washington, something he did every time he walked through these doors.

Well, that wouldn’t be for much longer no matter how things went today.

Bucky then refocused his attention on the room around him and spotted some of his colleagues from both chambers engaged in conversation with each other. It would be a short while before they would convene, so there would be some time to kill.

That’s when Bucky saw him. 

Congressman Gary looked to be in idle chatter with some of his fellow representatives from Maryland, based on the relaxed expressions on their faces. Bucky could’ve eavesdropped if he wanted to, but it didn’t seem like it was worth the effort. 

The relaxed expression Gary had on his face disappeared in a flash when he glanced over the shoulder of one of the men he was speaking with and met Bucky’s gaze, replaced by something rigid and stiff. It looked like he caught a whiff of a foul odor and was doing his best to pretend he had not noticed.

Bucky kept his face decisively neutral, but cursed himself silently for not looking away when he had the chance. There were a lot of faces he dreaded seeing today, Gary’s being one of them. Not because he disliked the man at all, in fact Bucky knew he was one of the few people in Washington that could be trusted implicitly. 

And that was the problem.

The debut of the New Avengers three months ago had caused the impeachment proceedings against Valentina Allegra de Fontaine to stall indefinitely. Val stayed out of prison and got a hefty PR boost, the team got full immunity in addition to the refurbished remnants of Stark Tower, and Gary and his committee – who had spent months and months collecting damning evidence that would have removed Val as CIA Director and put her away for life – got jack shit.

Bucky had often wondered what would have happened had he chosen not to walk through that curtain, if he just drew his pistol and kneecapped Valentina the moment he saw her, or if John had chucked that stupid bent shield of his at her head. If he had taken those Chitauri cuffs he had stolen from her gala and placed her in them before carrying her off to jail. Or if Bucky had just let the rest of the team tear her to shreds on Park Avenue as payback for what she did to them.

Any ending was preferable to letting her walk. But Bucky let her walk. He let her play her game, let her compromise the very small amount of goodwill he had worked so hard to earn back.

That was what Bucky saw when Gary met his gaze. He saw the judgment. The hurt. The betrayal. Like Bucky had wasted his time and played Gary for a fool. He hadn’t spoken two words to the man in months.

That was the worst part of it all, really. Bucky had approached Gary about stopping Val, not the other way around. If Bucky had just stayed clear of things, maybe now Valentina would be in a prison cell.

But – as always – Bucky remembered that if that had happened, the others would be locked up alongside her. Yelena. Walker. Bob.

Ava.

“Congressman Barnes! How are you?” boomed an overly enthusiastic voice that reminded Bucky strongly of Alexei, and at that moment he saw who it was that addressed him.

“Senator Brandt,” Bucky greeted in a low voice, thankful for the distraction so he could look away from Gary. He stuck his hand out to Brandt and he shook it, the Senator’s grip tighter than Bucky would have cared for, and he wasn’t even a super soldier.

“Haven’t seen you ‘round here in a while. Things busy your way?” Brandt spoke like they were lifelong friends who hadn’t been in touch for a while, his grip still firm on Bucky’s hand. Bucky found it irksome since he hardly knew the guy; the only reason the Senator acted like Bucky’s best friend was because his great-grandfather had been the one to coin the name “Captain America” – then a colorful character for the war bond drive played by one Steven Grant Rogers.

“You could say that,” Bucky responded sheepishly. He had no good answer to give the Junior Senator from New York.

“I can imagine. I mean… wow, the Avengers! That’s huge! Congratulations to you, sir!” Brandt spoke with a cheery demeanor that unsettled Bucky; it seemed forced but there was that little bit of sincerity that it made it all the worse.

“I can’t imagine how you managed to swing that…”

“I can’t either,” Bucky muttered under his breath with a strained smile, but Brandt ignored him.

“... but man, oh man! That must be so exciting!” Brandt still hadn’t relaxed his grip. Bucky could honestly say he felt more comfortable around people wearing T-shirts with his face plastered on them than he was at this moment.

“Like you wouldn’t believe,” Bucky returned. He very much wanted to just duck into one of the committee chambers and hide under a desk until it was time for today’s session to begin.

“Oh, and by the way,” Brandt began, finally releasing his grip from Bucky’s arm, “I had a chance to look over the bill proposal your aides sent, and I have some great news for you!”

“Oh?” Bucky cocked his head, finding Brandt substantially much more interesting than he had been ten seconds before. 

“Yes!” Brandt responded, giddy as a schoolboy, “You really did your homework on this one, Barnes. Solid framework, bipartisan appeal, not too much of a burden on the government or the taxpayer. Me and a few like-minded Senators are of the mind that, if by some miracle you just barely manage to eke this through the House, your bill’s gonna pass with flying colors. Heck, I’d even bet good money the President would sign off on it by the end of the day!”

Bucky just blinked. He had had his doubts that what he’d been slaving over would actually amount to anything, and now he was being told this had a chance of actually becoming something?

“That’s… terrific!” Bucky managed to get out after a moment, still taken back by it all, “I mean, just… wow. That-”

The euphoria he was experiencing immediately drained from him at the moment Brandt placed his hand on Bucky’s shoulder, still wearing that forced toothy smile. The silence gave the Senator’s words the time to register with him fully.

“... What do you mean, eke through?” Bucky asked finally, “If it has a chance, then-”

“Allow me to rephrase,” Brandt began, tugging at his collar, “The bill itself is perfectly fine. It’s a very noble cause, what you’re setting out to do. What with all the alien invasions and the Blip and God knows what else over the years, people need a care system they can rely on.”

“Then what’s the problem?” Bucky asked, annoyed at how Brandt was beating around the bush.

“It’s a question of… optics,” Brandt spoke, then paused.

“Optics,” Bucky repeated flatly, and his annoyance grew.

“You see, none of us in the Senate are up for reelection anytime soon, but the House of Representatives is. I know you’re still new to Washington, and part of the game isn’t just making friends but keeping them too,” Brandt explained, his voice reminiscent of a kindergarten teacher talking to a child, “And…”

“And what?” Bucky’s annoyance had become frustration. He expected he already knew what the answer would be, but he needed Brandt to say it.

“Well, you didn’t hear this from me, but… you maybe kinda sorta lost some friends on Capitol Hill with the whole… announcement,” Brandt said in an apologetic tone.

Bucky turned his head and scoffed. So that’s what this was about. This had nothing to do with his political inexperience or his past. It was about Valentina. It was about the New Avengers being paraded around as her PR weapon. 

“Don’t get me wrong! I’m on your side, Barnes,” Brandt explained, but Bucky couldn’t care less what his opinion was, “Just that… people see things and they talk and… well it doesn’t carry the best connotations. I mean, working for de Fontaine and all-”

“I don’t work for her,” Bucky turned to face him again with a resolute gaze, that Winter Soldier stare of his returning, “None of us do. Valentina brought us out as the New Avengers but we do not answer to her. We are independent of the CIA and the government, just like the original Avengers before the Sokovia Accords, which I’ll remind you were abolished because of just how stupid and impractical they were.”

“Look, I get all that, I do,” Brandt explained, “It’s just… the connotations of it all. You standing alongside the Director of the CIA under criminal investigation and a bunch of people nobody has ever heard of, except of course for John Walker who-”

“Don’t talk about Walker, I don’t have the energy for this today,” Bucky spoke firmly, and Brandt quickly dropped the subject.

“Alright, fine,” Brandt raised his hands defensively, “I’m just saying, none of it really did you any credit, and there’s a few people in the House who are nervous about rocking the boat with their constituents. Bad enough that this year alone, the President of the United States almost started World War III with Japan before turning into a giant red monster and destroying half the White House. We need to earn the people’s trust back.”

“If the House were concerned about earning trust, they’d vote for this bill in a heartbeat,” Bucky argued, “You said yourself it was a good bill. It benefits all of us.”

“It’s not the bill that’s the issue,” Brandt said, “Like I said, optics. You, the ex-Hydra assassin seemingly working for the allegedly corrupt CIA director, leading the charge on a humanitarian bill when people are already weary of the government and enhanced individuals? I wouldn’t expect unanimous support, at least not in the first go-around and especially not if Kelly opens his mouth today.”

“Kelly? Who’s Kelly?” Bucky was puzzled. 

“You don’t remember?” Brandt explained, “Robert Kelly from Kansas. Just got elected to a fourth term. Parades himself as something of a human rights activist.”

“And? That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” Bucky inquired.

“Well, he has a very narrow definition of what human rights are,” Brandt explained sheepishly. Bucky rolled his eyes, feeling another headache lingering beneath the surface.

“Alright, well… one problem at a time,” Bucky said.

“For what it’s worth, I’m rooting for ya,” Brandt said, patting Bucky on the shoulder, and Bucky just blinked.

“Gee, thanks,” is what Bucky managed to reply, his voice dripping with sarcasm that the Senator took no offense to. Thinking there was nothing further to discuss, Bucky began to step away, intending to either try and win support from sympathetic representatives or just duck away in some private room and go over his notes until it was time for the House to convene.

That’s when he saw her walking towards him, heels clicking hurriedly, wrinkles in her pantsuit, her hair frizzy, and looking like she hadn’t slept in three nights. The one person he had hoped against hope he would not see while down here in DC.

“Oh Christ,” Bucky muttered under his breath as Mel started race-walking her way towards him, her expression grim as she took notice of him. Val must’ve known he was coming to DC and sent her lackey to talk about whatever the hell was so urgent, but somehow couldn’t or wouldn’t share with Yelena for some reason.

No, Bucky had decided. Whatever it was Mel had to say, he wasn’t going to listen. If she had a problem, then good. She could afford to wait and worry a little while longer. That’s what Val was paying her for.

“Actually, Senator,” Bucky said, loud enough for Mel to hear as she drew nearer and nearer to him, “I do have a moment to discuss strategy with you.”

Bucky made an about-face and linked Brandt’s arm in his own, escorting him away from Mel as far as he possibly could. Eventually the sound of Mel’s clicking heels stopped, but Bucky didn’t even waste a second looking back.

“What do you mean strategy?” Brandt asked after a few moments, confused, “Where are we going?”

“Just play along, I’ll explain later,” Bucky muttered.

“... motion carried. And now for the next item on the agenda,” the Speaker of the House said, clearing her throat before reading the brief she was holding, “By Mr. Barnes. HR 5690. A bill to authorize additional funding and expanding parameters for mental health services relating to incidents of extraordinary circumstances and/or enhanced individuals; to the Committee on Ways and Means.”

Bucky swallowed, feeling the hundreds of eyes now trained on him. He breathed steadily through his nose, doing his best to keep his cool, even as their gazes and the C-SPAN cameras seemed to be following every tiny movement he made.

Come on, Bucky attempted to motivate himself, You literally fought Thanos. It’s just words.

Bucky slowly rose to his feet, looked at the papers in his grasp, and attempted to speak.

No words came out.

Why the hell was he so terrified? He’d put so much work into this, he should know his stuff by now. He wasn’t even this nervous on the campaign trail. The people of Brooklyn came out in droves to support him and he’d done the speeches and fundraisers without trouble (once he actually listened to his speechwriters). So why was he suddenly cracking up?

“Representative Barnes?” the Speaker asked, and though it only made his cheeks go a shade of crimson, it was enough to shake Bucky into action.

“Madam Speaker, honorable representatives…” Bucky felt his throat go dry, and took a sip of water before continuing, “Today I have laid for- laid this proposal before you.”

Bucky nervously scanned the room, anxious about how his faux pas would be received.

“In this country we have dealt with a significantly high percentage of enhanced threats in recent years, as compared to the rest of the world,” Bucky began again, finding his footing, “These incidents place the lives of ordinary people in intense jeopardy with alarming regularity. But it is not just the physical danger that affects people; incidents like the ones in New York and right here in our nation’s capital place a tremendous mental and emotional burden on the American people. I speak now of the Snap, where those who survived were left in a changed world believing their loved ones to be gone forever. But just because it was reversed and half the world’s population came back does not mean that things went back to normal. The people who remained had to deal with the emotional fallout of losing people they cared for, and the people who were gone suddenly returned to a world that had moved past them and instantly had to accept that their lives were forever changed.”

Bucky paused a moment, taking in the view of the faces around him, listening with intrigue. So far, so good.

“It is our duty to protect and serve the people we were elected to represent, but protection means more than just from the physical dangers of a foreign power, a terrorist group, or a tyrant bent on destruction,” Bucky continued, “We have to consider how they have been affected by these incidents, which I reiterate occur on an alarmingly frequent basis. This is not an issue we can ignore or minimize, but something we have to address. During the Blip, there were resources open to those affected because we were all impacted by it in one way or another. But since the return, those resources for care and trauma recovery have been significantly reduced, and people have been… alone.”

Bucky didn’t mean to almost trail off at the end, but that moment was the one where his brain picked the absolute worst moment to become self-aware again.

He thought back to that day in New York, three months ago.

It’s just like you said. We’re all alone. All of us.

Those had been the Void’s words to Yelena, right before she stepped in. It was the phrasing that had stuck with Bucky in that moment. He hadn’t been down in the Vault with them. He didn’t know what had happened, what had made Yelena say that, what had made her give up.

But he understood it all too well. To be truly alone.

Bucky quickly closed his eyes and forced the thought out. He’d been quiet too long and was beginning to lose his momentum. 

“So that is why this proposal is before you all today,” Bucky continued, “We can’t leave these vulnerable people alone. We need to reevaluate what we are doing to care for people who need our help the most. Counseling services, medications, even just a shoulder to lean on… these are good and necessary things. I trust most if not all of you have had a chance to review the specifics of this measure. But for those of you who haven’t had the opportunity, or even those of you who already have, I implore you to give this a chance. Thank you.”

When Bucky finished, he sat himself back down and yielded the floor. There were murmurs from around the chamber, indecipherable even with his advanced hearing but the mood was definitely one of genuine interest. Bucky sighed in relief, thinking that the worst of it had passed. Perhaps Brandt had been wrong, perhaps there was a way of cinching this after all.

Bucky’s eyes scanned the room until they found Gary, sitting alongside the other representatives from Maryland who were engaged in excited chatter. Gary himself was looking down at the packet in front of him in silent contemplation. He wasn’t reading or reviewing the bill at all.

“If that is all, Representative Barnes,” the Speaker spoke up again, “the floor is now open to debate.”

No sooner had the word “debate” come out of her mouth that a thin, sallow-faced man with graying hair at his temples, a slight hunch in his posture, and horn-rimmed glasses stood up almost instantaneously. He fixed the button of his jacket in dramatic fashion.

“Thank you, Madam Speaker,” Robert Kelly spoke, but did not even bother to look in her direction.

“I have to commend you on your oratory skills, Representative Barnes. You speak with great passion,” Kelly began, his attention focused in Bucky’s direction. Bucky was surprised he didn’t remember Kelly from before this, the man had a distinctive presence about him. He dressed well, kept himself neat, even had one of those winning politician’s smiles.

He reminded Bucky strongly of Alexander Pierce.

“It was rather moving really, especially the way you talked about vulnerable people in need of help,” Kelly commented, but Bucky could smell a rat. What was he playing at?

“Though, if I may ask just one question…” Kelly trailed off, “... how exactly would you categorize ‘vulnerable people?’”

Bucky didn’t like his phrasing. He remembered Brandt’s words from earlier. 

“Like I said, everybody has been impacted in some way or another, meaning it applies to everyone,” Bucky replied firmly, but keeping his frustration in check.

“Allow me to rephrase,” Kelly raised a hand up, before picking up the packet on his desk, “The exact words used for this proposition are, quote, ‘incidents of extraordinary circumstances and/or enhanced individuals.’ Just to clarify, is this phrasing meant to suggest that it is enhanced individuals themselves that are responsible for these incidents?”

Bucky’s heart sank.

“No, that was not the intent at all,” Bucky explained, but before he could elaborate further Kelly spoke again.

“Now, just a moment ago, Representative Barnes, you used the phrase ‘enhanced threats’ as a qualifier for the care you wish the federal government to provide,” Kelly said, “Now it would appear to me that, by this proposed legislation, you mean to create a codified distinction between what qualifies as an enhanced person and an ordinary person…”

“Representative Kelly-” Bucky began but was cut off.

“... but by the same token, while acknowledging the threat that enhanced individuals pose and have posed to the American people, it is your wish that the perpetrators of these incidents be entitled to the same benefits as the rest of us.”

“Representative Kelly, this is not the forum for speculation,” the Speaker interrupted Kelly’s tangent, “I will remind you to keep the topic on the proposed legislation at hand.”

“With respect Madam Speaker, this is materially relevant to the discussion,” Kelly directed his attention towards her, “If Representative Barnes’ agenda makes it through the House today, we must ask ourselves… cui bono?”

Bucky felt ice course through his veins. Kelly was trying to get under his skin, and if Bucky didn’t keep his cool then he would succeed.

“Let me remind you, Representative Kelly,” Bucky spoke with his teeth partly clenched, “This is about providing care for all Americans, not creating absurd divisions from within.”

“Representative Barnes, I am merely working off of what has been proposed here today,” Kelly feigned humility as he started rifling through his packet, “We see here proposed cuts in interstate commerce, defense, public broadcasting, et cetera, et cetera…”

“Done with the intention of preventing increased taxpayer burden-” Bucky tried adding.

“... though surprisingly not with the discretionary funds allocated to the Central Intelligence Agency,” Kelly added, and the room suddenly went dead silent.

Bucky felt sweat forming on his brow, his pulse racing, at a complete loss of where to continue from here. Kelly looked like he just found his smoking gun. The tension in the room was so thick you could cut it with a machete.

“I suppose that it takes a lot of taxpayer money to keep that fortress of yours up and running. All those quinjets and satellites and whatever your friend the Contessa can give her prized collection of assassins masquerading as heroes-”

“Representative Kelly! I am warning you!” the Speaker addressed Kelly, but Kelly ignored her.

“-all to cover up for the fact that she was the one responsible for what happened in New York three months ago,” Kelly finished.

“REPRESENTATIVE KELLY! THAT IS ENOUGH!” the Speaker shouted at Kelly, and the smug bastard sat back down in his seat, unbuttoning his jacket with a flourish.

At the same moment there was a sudden uproar from the Representatives who looked to each other and were talking among themselves loudly. Any interest they had in Bucky’s bill had now vanished. Now they were all, to a one, consumed with Kelly’s public accusation against Bucky and the New Avengers.

All except Gary. He was looking out into the middle distance. He did not turn to his colleagues, nor did he look in Bucky’s direction. He sat there in total silence as the chamber started to fall to pieces. 

“ORDER! ORDER!” the Speaker banged her gavel on her podium, trying to wrestle control of the explosive situation.

In the end, however, it didn’t matter. Bucky just sat there stunned and speechless. He knew that whatever hope he had of getting his bill even to the committee stage had just collapsed. But it wasn’t Kelly that was responsible, he was only the spark that lit the powder keg.

No, it was Bucky’s own foolishness that had been his undoing. The idea of cutting the CIA budget never registered with him when he was drafting it. Kelly had taken advantage of his inexperience and walked all over him. More to it, Bucky knew he had been naive for underestimating just how much his being part of the New Avengers would blow up in his face.

But now that the accusation of collusion – both of him and his team – had been made on the House floor, in front of the entire nation? Bucky wouldn’t be surprised if he was asked for his resignation before the end of the day. 

There I go again, thinking I could actually do something good for a change.

Bucky didn’t even wait for the chaos in the chambers to end. He stood up from his seat and left the room without another word.

Two hours later, Congress had adjourned for lunch. Bucky didn’t know how time had gone by so quickly, wrapped up in his own head like he was, a whole bunch of negative thoughts stewing as he wandered aimlessly through the corridors.

A dark part of him wanted to catch Kelly unawares and follow him into some secluded alcove, hoping to make him see “reason.” But Bucky knew that would only make things worse.

As his fellow Representatives funneled out of the chambers, Bucky caught a glimpse of Gary making his way through the crowd, taciturn and stone-faced as he pushed forward.

Bucky was already regretting his actions the moment he began to approach him.

Before Gary could turn the corner to head down towards the cafeteria, Bucky had closed the distance and cleared his throat. Gary stopped in place and turned back to face towards him.

“Congressman Gary,” Bucky began, “we need to talk.”

Gary said nothing, still taciturn.

“Please?” Bucky asked, almost begging.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Gary replied bluntly.

“Two minutes is all I ask,” Bucky offered, “Just two.”

Gary exhaled sharply through his nose, then scanned around him like they were being watched.

“Fine. Two minutes,” Gary conceded, but with absolutely no enthusiasm for what was to come.

Bucky motioned for Gary to follow him behind a column, out of sight of their fellow Representatives.

“Make this quick, Barnes. I could be enjoying my wife’s tuna salad right now,” Gary spoke dispassionately.

“About what happened-”

“I wouldn’t expect anything less from Bobby Kelly. The man’s been trying to claw his way into the Senate by any means necessary so he can push his ‘normalized’ agenda,” Gary responded bluntly, “And I thought all the Nazis were hung at Nuremberg…. No offense.”

Bucky waived it off, not really wanting to get into the specifics regarding Zola and the other remnants of the original Hydra. There was too much on his mind as it was.

“I meant with the impeachment,” Bucky explained, “I screwed up. Big time. And I’m sorry.”

Gary just scoffed, “Yeah, I’ll bet you are.”

“Excuse me?” Bucky was taken aback.

“Oh I believe you, Barnes. I know how sorry you are… up there in your penthouse suite, sipping scotch and sitting on rich corinthian leather, keys to the kingdom and all the toys you want at your fingertips,” Gary spoke plainly.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Bucky asked, raising an eyebrow and not caring much for Gary’s tone.

“Don’t bullshit a bullshitter, Buck,” Gary retorted, this time with a hint of venom in him, “You know pretty damn well what I mean. What, you thought no one else saw you standing right next to her and a bunch of criminals? The whole world saw it!”

Bucky felt something burn from within him. What Kelly had said earlier about colluding with Valentina had thrown him off balance, of course, but what Gary had said just now about the team, calling them “criminals” as if that was all there was to them… 

“You weren’t there that day, you don’t understand what happened,” Bucky explained, slipping his hands into his pockets and balling up his fists, trying to control himself.

“Then make me understand, Barnes!” Gary nearly shouted in a hoarse whisper, “Tell me why it was that you approached me – you approached me, not me to you – about bringing down Val only to stand by her at the end.”

“It’s…” Bucky started to say, but he couldn’t continue. What could he say? That Val had ambushed them all with that press conference? Confess the truth about Project Sentry and that Bob was responsible for unleashing darkness on New York? That Yelena, John, and Ava were assassins on the OXE payroll and had killed God knows how many over the years?

There was no version of this where he could reveal the truth of what happened. Not without hurting everyone else.

There was a tense silence that hung in the air after Bucky trailed off. Gary just peered at him through his glasses.

“... complicated,” Bucky finally spoke. The most cliche and unimaginative response possible, but it was the only one that wouldn’t compromise anyone.

“You must really think I’m an idiot, don’t you?” Gary stared blankly at him, “I’ve been in this game a lot longer than you, so let me offer you a nickel’s worth of free advice. If you’re going to continually make promises you can’t keep, eventually you’ll run out of other people’s trust. Why else do you think your proposal collapsed on the floor?”

“But it was Kelly who-” Bucky began but Gary raised a hand and silenced him.

“Kelly’s a snake and a bigot who hates enhanced people and anyone who disagrees with him,” Gary began, “but he was right about one thing. You can spin the story any way you like, heck you might even be telling the truth, but the truth of the matter is that you’re one of Valentina’s people.

“I am not working for her,” Bucky spoke, his teeth partially clenched, “I never have and never will. My word not good enough for you?”

“Like I said, you might be telling the truth,” Gary conceded, “But neither I nor anyone else have any reason to believe anything else, unless you provide proof to the contrary. Until then, that big-ass skyscraper you live in supercedes your… word.”

“So is that why you didn’t say anything when we were in session?” Bucky inquired, finding his confidence but fueled by his growing frustration with this whole thing, “You let a good bill, a necessary bill to help people, collapse before it even gets to the committee stage? You know  it’s a good bill. So what was it for? Spite?”

Gary just shook his head, “Fool me once, shame on you. You know the rest of it. So no, while it’s a good bill, if you’re the one sponsoring it I can’t support it.”

“Afraid of losing your voters, Congressman?” Bucky jabbed, “Wouldn’t want the Winter Soldier blackening your reputation, is that it?”

“I don’t need to worry about my reputation, son,” Gary spoke firmly and calmly, crossing his arms, “I’ve been in Washington for thirty years and I’m as straight a shooter as you’re gonna find in this town. This is about principle. I refuse to break bread with someone who enabled that witch Valentina to hold onto her position. You realize how many people she’s hurt since she’s been CIA Director? How many conflicts nearly boiled over into full-blown wars? How many more will suffer because of her? Hell, you have any idea what happened to her ex-husband?”

“Val’s not going to hurt anyone, I promise you,” Bucky was firm in his response, “If she does, she has us to answer to.”

Gary scoffed, “You can’t make a promise like that, Barnes! You don’t know how dangerous she is-”

“Pretty good idea,” Bucky cocked his head.

“No you don’t,” Gary said, “Whether you’re her man or not, super soldier serum or not, Valentina will find a way. Not even your friend Captain America will be able to bail you out of that one when the time comes.”

Bucky froze at the mention of Sam. 

“Don’t talk about him,” Bucky’s temper started to rise, “He’s not part of this.”

“Of course not, figured as much,” Gary said dismissively, “Though as I understand it, you two haven’t spoken in months. Guess I wasn’t the only one taken for a fool, it seems.”

Both of Bucky’s fists were balled up in rage.

“Now I’m curious what Wilson’s reaction was? The new Captain America watching a new Avengers team being formed without him, and with some questionable faces alongside.”

“Gary-” Bucky’s teeth were fully clenched.

“You got that derelict John Walker, threw away his entire reputation in five minutes… funny how the ex-Cap gets to be an Avenger and not the real Cap, isn’t it?”

Bucky’s clenched fists were removed from his pockets.

“Then you got those whacked-out Russian psychos, body counts a mile long…”

Bucky didn’t even realize he began stepping towards Gary, slowly but ever so surely, his hands still balled up in fists, his eyes fixed on Gary’s head.

“... as well as that science experiment gone wrong who-”

The column behind Gary’s head crumbled – correction, exploded – as Bucky’s vibranium fist made contact.

Gary didn’t duck; there was no need to, Bucky’s fist was aimed clear past his head and impacted the marble column, which was now sporting a spider’s web of crumbling masonry.

Nevertheless, the Congressman was absolutely petrified at what just happened, and glanced from the metal hand covered with dust back up to the ex-assassin’s eyes, consumed with a fiery rage in them unlike anything he’d ever seen before.

“You’re done,” Bucky spoke in an eerily calm voice, which in all honesty terrified Gary more than if he screamed in his face right then in there.

“... I beg your pardon?” Gary asked after a beat, summoning up what little courage he could.

“You are done,” Bucky repeated. His voice remained low and firm. Slowly he pulled his metal fist back, flexed the fingers, and the dust coating the knuckles fell. 

“Is that a threat, Barnes?” Gary asked, choosing his tone carefully. It was clear he wasn’t trying to be a smartass at this moment, but rather he was genuinely fearful that Bucky’s rage would morph into something far worse.

And Bucky, despite the rage in his heart, was also afraid of that outcome.

“Take it however you want,” Bucky’s voice sounded detached, “We’re done here.”

Bucky took deep breaths as he stepped away from behind the column, only to find that there were a number of people, including some Senators and Representatives, lingering in the corridor, evidently having heard the worst of the disastrous “talk” he’d had with Gary – or at the very least the sound of him nearly destroying a column inside the Capitol Building.

Bucky felt the eyes on him. He could feel their judgment. Their fear. In his heart of hearts, no matter how many pardons or elections or PR stunts there were, he knew he would only ever be seen as the Winter Soldier to these stuffed shirts.

He had to get away from here. This day had gone from bad to worse all the time. Forget his resignation, he wouldn’t be surprised if the Capitol Police came by his office with a warrant out for him.

“Sheeeeeeeeit,” came Gary’s voice, having stepped out from behind the column and observing the crowd. Bucky craned his neck to look at Gary, but upon seeing him again, his fight-or-flight kicked in. He had to get out. He had to think.

Bucky quickly raced his way through the corridors of the Capitol Building, endeavoring to reach his office and hide for as long as it took for things to settle down. He reached the stairwell that would take him up to where his office was, and then-

“Congressman Barnes, we need to talk,” Mel said, standing at the top of the stairwell, still looking out of sorts and holding a clipboard in her arm.

“Oh, Jesus Christ, no,” Bucky put his face in his hand. He’d already been pushed past his limit with Gary, God knows what he’d do if he spent any amount of time talking with Mel.

“Goodbye, no thanks, see you next fall,” Bucky dismissed her as he turned around and started walking in the other direction.

“Bucky, please wait!” Mel spoke with alarm in her voice, her heels clicking as she raced down the stairs, “Please just-”

“Nope, not interested,” Bucky responded to her.

“Bucky-” 

“And don’t call me Bucky, only my friends call me Bucky and you sure as shit aren’t one of them,” Bucky spoke, continuing to walk on, not wasting time to slow down or even give her the courtesy of a glance.

“Bucky, it is really important that-!” 

“I’m sure that’s exactly what Val told you but I can guarantee you, with one hundred percent accuracy, that it’s not,” Bucky waived her off.

“This is serious!” Mel practically bellowed at him.

“SO AM I!” Bucky practically screamed, stopping and doing an about-face, causing Mel to stop and shriek.

“Since you’re here, I might as well remind you what we already told Val at the beginning of our… arrangement,” Bucky said, “If she wants to contact me or Yelena about anything regarding the team, she either speaks with us directly or she sends someone other than you to do it, because personally I am done listening to you.”

“I understand you’re upset, Bucky. I get it, truly. But please just hear me out-”

“What did I just say?” Bucky put his hands on his hips, looking at Mel like she was a misbehaving child, “I’m not interested. If it’s so goddamn important, then you tell Yelena in full detail, don’t dance around with her trying to find me. I have better and more important things going on right now.”

Bucky did another about face and started walking away from her. Mel hurried along behind him.

“Bucky, I’m sorry about what happened. Really, I am,” Mel began, timidly, “But you have no idea what-”

“Oh I understand completely,” Bucky sarcastically answered her, “I understand I was an idiot for thinking you didn’t know who was signing your paychecks. That’s on me, though. I am an absolute shitty judge of character.”

“That’s not fair, Bucky.”

“You made your bed, now lie in it. You have a problem with it, go to your boss and file an HR complaint,” Bucky spat, “You betrayed my trust, now go sing like the songbird we both know you are. I’m done.”

Mel stopped trying to keep pace. Her face likely was full of pain and regret, and maybe it would have been sincere, but Bucky was too furious to turn around to look or care.

And to think, this morning he’d been on Cloud Nine. The happiest he’d been in a very long time.

It was a short while later that Bucky finally managed to get into his office without being seen. No doubt that his little “incident” with Gary hadn’t gone unnoticed, so rather than face down hordes of angry Congressmen or invasive reporters, Bucky tried to focus his attention on his sandwich even though he wasn’t remotely hungry at the moment.

Sitting at his desk, he picked up his chicken salad, and saw the lettuce was wilting and starting to turn brown already. With a sigh, he dumped the uneaten half into the bin next to his desk. 

Had that only been yesterday? Those glorious few hours when he could just forget about all the other shit in his life and actually live like a normal person for a change? Bucky assumed as much but it felt like a lifetime ago to him. After the disaster of this morning he felt like he had aged ten years, which honestly Bucky felt like he was overdue for.

Everything had hit him at once this morning. Brandt’s obnoxiousness, Kelly’s accusations, Gary’s judgments, and Mel… goddamn Mel. 

Bucky buried his face in his hands. How a day that had started off so good could get royally screwed up so bad he had no idea.

Bucky’s mind kept turning to Ava. Of that kiss they shared. Of that burning feeling he got in his chest whenever he was around her. Right now it was the only thing keeping him sane, the only thing in the world that seemed to make sense.

But then Bucky had to reflect on what just happened with Gary. He had snapped at him – rather publicly, in fact. At the bare minimum this was gonna be horrendous for the team’s PR, and of course he (by which meant Valentina and her blank checks) would have to pay for the damages to that column. Fortunately though, Capitol Police weren’t knocking down his door right now so maybe that was a sign things wouldn’t be too bad. As for the resignation… well, the jury was still out on that one. He had already typed it up weeks ago, but was waiting until after the bill got passed to submit it, though of course now he was waiting until Congress asked him to step down. Bucky knew that after this his remaining friends in government just dwindled down to zero.

But the thing that bothered Bucky most wasn’t the fact that he’d snapped at Gary – it was the why. These past few years he’d gotten better at controlling his emotions. Raynor was a shitty shrink, but she at least helped Bucky get started on the path of moving on. The self-hatred and anger… well, Bucky thought he was pretty much past it by now.

And then, of course, the Void happened. And Bucky realized he’d been a fool to think he could just check off his problems on a list and move on. Maybe it worked to get rid of the Winter Soldier for good, but now… now Bucky had to contend with the rest of himself.

And the thing that had set him off? It was when Gary made the comment about Ava.

Ava… so much had changed between them in just a matter of days. Where before he’d seen that kid that had her life stolen by Hydra, or even his teammate of all of three months, Bucky saw someone else now. He felt something else now.

No, that feeling had always been there. That instinct to protect her had always been there. But it was different now. Modified. Enhanced.

That’s why Bucky had snapped. All the turmoil his heart and head over Ava made him weak. That protectiveness he felt clouded his judgment. It made him angry, reckless, careless. Two more inches off the mark and there’d be no more Congressman Gary. 

And the worst part? He wouldn’t have even cared.

That’s why Bucky knew he had to straighten this thing out with Ava. Today. He sincerely doubted his presence would be welcome in the House when they all came back from lunch, so he’d have the time at least.

But Bucky didn’t want to disturb Ava if she was still dealing with her own problems. If she asked, he’d be there in a heartbeat. But for now he wanted to give her the space she desired, especially after the fiasco with her phone at breakfast. 

In any case, Bucky didn’t want to rush in so soon after this disaster of a day in Congress. He needed more time to think, clear his head, maybe get some answers regarding how he felt-

And that’s when the answer hit him. And Bucky actually audibly groaned at the thought of what he was going to do next. Never in a million years did he think he would actually ask for advice from him, and definitely not for this.

Bucky pulled his phone out and scrolled through his contacts down to “W.”

He paused for a moment when he saw the name “Sam Wilson” reflected back up at him. For a moment, his finger hovered over the name, itching to press down on the screen, to talk to the one man that, in other circumstances, would be right there to support him.

But Bucky’s plan wasn’t to call Sam. If Sam hadn’t returned any of his calls in the last three months he wasn’t suddenly going to start now.

Bucky cringed heavily as he moved the list up a few places and pressed his finger over “John Walker.”

He regretted it immediately after the phone started to ring. Maybe if he hung up quick enough…

Too late. He heard the line click on the other end.

“...nrrrrrghello,” John groaned from the other end, sounding like he’d just been woken up from a deep slumber.

“Hey John, it’s me,” Bucky began, “How’re you feeling?”

“Like I only just got back to sleep after heaving my guts out all morning when out of the blue you decide to call me and interrupt, so thanks for that,” John sounded immensely irritated on the other end, and Bucky couldn’t blame him in that moment. Alexei’s cooking had done a number on all of them.

“My bad,” Bucky offered.

“Whaddya want? Wait…” John paused, “... Why the hell are you calling me? You never call me. Is ‘Lena not picking up?”

“I’m not trying to reach Yelena,” Bucky said, “I wanted to talk with you about… something.”

Bucky got cold feet again, and realized he hadn’t really thought this through. Just what in God’s name was he going to ask John Walker’s advice for? 

“Helloooooo?” John’s voice broke the pause, “Earth to Barnes, you still there?”

“Yeah, I’m still here, it’s just…” Bucky was scrambling for the right thing to say, until eventually he decided to start with the most prudent thing, “... well, things didn’t go the way they were supposed to at Capitol Hill today. I don’t know if you or anyone were watching C-SPAN today…”

“I’d rather have more of Alexei’s borscht from hell than watch politics on TV,” John commented, “Did that bill of yours go through?”

Bucky gave a wry snort, “Not even close.”

“That bad, huh?”

“Yep,” Bucky lips emphasized the “p” with a loud pop.

“So… you’re calling me because…” John added, undoubtedly curious why Bucky called him.

“I wanted to let you know in case there’s any media blowback in the coming days,” Bucky said, “About the team I mean.”

“Goddamn Barnes, what did you do?” John said with a half-laugh.

“I’d rather not talk about it,” Bucky sighed, “I just… I wanted you to know so you could let Olivia know, get her prepared in case the media circus starts hounding them again.”

Silence greeted him from the other end. Bucky figured this would happen at the mention of her. Bucky said nothing, but waited patiently at the other end.

“... Alright,” John said, his tone now extremely sober, “Alright, I’ll… I’ll let her know. Maybe they, uh… maybe they can stay with Lemar’s folks for a few days. At least until… whatever this is blows over. Shenai’s been dying to see her nephew for a while, so maybe this is a good thing… I guess.”

Bucky grimaced from the other end of the line. It was bad enough that he’d pretty much soiled his entire reputation in Washington in a single day, but until Val’s PR people got on the case the blowback this would have on the team would linger. The rest of them could cope well enough, but John…

Well, it’s not that Bucky suddenly felt great sympathy for him all of a sudden. But John had people. People that would be impacted by this. Just like before.

“Look, John, things just… got out of hand, and…” Bucky began, and then paused, “Well, I’m sorry.”

A beat.

“John?” Bucky asked after a moment, concerned.

“Bucky Barnes actually apologizing? Well that wasn’t on my bingo card for this year. Yelena owes me fifty bucks,” John quipped, but Bucky could hear him masking. Bucky was pretty good at reading people in general, though admittedly John was quite easy to read.

“I’m serious,” Bucky was firm, “And… I wanted to apologize for before.”

“Before? What about?” John asked.

Bucky took a deep breath. This had actually been weighing on him for some time, but now felt like the right moment to share it.

“In Utah,” Bucky said, “After I almost… blew you all up.”

“You’re sorry about that? I think it’s lucky none of us got broken bones from that,” John quipped again. Another mask.

“No, not that,” Bucky said before realizing how stupid that sounded, but then continued on, “I meant about… outing you.”

Another beat.

“I didn’t realize you hadn’t told anyone else about Olivia leaving you,” Bucky began, and instantly he felt an invisible weight on his shoulders begin to lift, “That wasn’t my business to share. I know you and I have had our problems, and believe me I still do, but… that wasn’t fair to you. Or her. Or your kid. I should have respected your privacy, but I didn’t. And I’m sorry.”

There was another pause from the other end. Bucky waited patiently, giving John the time he needed to process his words.

“If I tell you something, Bucky, can you promise to keep it secret?” John asked with sincerity in his voice, “Like, actually secret. I want to tell you because you brought it up but I can’t let the others know. Not yet. Not until we’re ready.”

“We?” Bucky asked.

“Barnes, please promise me,” John almost begged.

“Alright, I promise I won’t tell anyone,” Bucky answered him, and he would hold to that. He’d broken too many promises in his life. He wasn’t going to break this one.

“Olivia didn’t leave me,” John confessed, “I left her.”

Bucky sat there in stunned silence. Even if he could find the words to speak, he didn’t dare continue until John had finished explaining himself.

“I was scared. I… I didn’t know what to do,” John began, cracks in his voice, “When she got pregnant, she was so excited, like… God, I’d never seen her so happy in our whole lives. But… I was so goddamn terrified. Afghanistan was a cakewalk compared to this. And I kept telling myself that that was just new dad jitters, because me and ‘Liv always wanted kids ever since high school, but… this was after… everything.”

John didn’t need to explain himself. Bucky knew every bit of what he was talking about. He’d been there. The shield. The Flag-Smashers. The serum. Lemar. Nico. He’d been there for it all.

“I kept telling myself ‘Maybe I’m worried about the serum in his blood. How’s that gonna affect him when he grows up?’ Then he’s born and everything’s perfectly normal so that’s one issue out of the way, maybe things’ll be easier from here, right? And they weren’t.

“And then I kept making excuses. Maybe it’s the sleepless nights of him crying, maybe it’s all the time away on missions for Val, maybe Olivia loves the baby more than me, maybe maybe maybe maybe…. Always looking for someone to blame other than myself.”

Bucky remained silent. He took in every last word.

“And then one day, I realized I was the problem. After everything I’ve done… well, what kid wants a failure like me for a dad? The guy who actually got to be Captain America for all of five goddamn minutes before everything went to shit.”

“John…” Bucky felt the need to say something, but John continued.

“And to this day I don’t regret what I did in Latvia. I would do it again. The man was not some innocent bystander, Barnes, and I’m sick of having to explain myself to everyone what rules of engagement are. But… if I had to change it I’d change the how and where. Because goddamn if I don’t regret what it caused.

“Olivia stuck by me after all that. I was expecting her to leave. Heh, I think a part of me even wanted her to. But nope. Even after all that, all the shit I put her through, all the reporters and phone calls and all of Val’s lies… she stayed with me. And I realized I had done nothing to deserve her. I’d made her my little stay-at-home trophy wife, put myself and my career with the Rangers first, never once giving a damn what she wanted out of life. And I kept making the same mistake over and over and over again.

“And then our son arrives, and… I just couldn’t do it anymore. I wasn’t going to hurt him like I’d hurt her, so I walked out thinking they’d be better off without me. I threw myself into working for Val, fooling myself into thinking I was doing good. I believed in the system. The Army had rules, structure, purpose, glory… now I was doing wetwork for the CIA where nobody could see me, instead of being home like I should’ve been for my family.”

John signed as he finished. Bucky was still processing everything.

“John, I… I had no idea,” Bucky began.

“Nor should you have,” John told him, “When I left, I wanted things to be as quiet as possible for them. I’d told Olivia that, if asked, I’d rather she tell people that she was the one who ‘escaped’ from me because I was the unstable monster everyone already thought I was, rather than the coward who couldn’t cope and abandoned her. That’s probably the version you heard.”

Bucky sighed as he placed a hand to his head. This whole conversation was more overwhelming than he was expecting. Bucky had called John hoping to get his advice; he hadn’t been prepared for this big revelation.

At the very least, it took some of the pressure off of his mind, what with the fiasco here in Congress and his confused thoughts about Ava.

“I’m sorry, John,” Bucky said, “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Only to keep this to yourself for now. I need to call Olivia. Last thing I need is Alexei or Bob doing something harebrained even if they mean well,” John said, “And definitely not Yelena or Ava either. Yelena would just antagonize me again, and I’m not in the mood for Ava’s sarcasm. Not today.”

“Okay,” Bucky responded. That last comment sunk in. It was because of Ava that he’d felt compelled to contact John in the first place. Of the few people he was still on speaking terms with, John was the only one who had actually been in a stable relationship for any length of time, and truthfully when he brought up the subject of Olivia he wanted to know what was the secret that made her and John work… for however long that had lasted.

“But… Now's probably a good moment to tell you, since this whole thing is getting pretty grim,” John said, his tone becoming a bit lighter, “We’re speaking again, me and her.”

“You are?” Bucky asked, his interest piqued.

“Yeah,” John said, “We, uh… touched base like right after that press conference three months back. She called me and it was like nothing had changed, even if everything had. Felt like I was back in Kabul after our convoy got ambushed and she phoned after it went on the news. Remember when I went back to Custer’s Grove for the weekend a few weeks back?”

“I do, yeah. Wasn’t that for Shenai’s birthday?” Bucky asked.

“It was, yeah. And ‘Liv was there since we’d all gone to school together, and… well, we started talking about things like… visitation,” John said.

“Visitation?” Bucky repeated, the sound of the word for whatever reason lifting his spirits.

“I’m trying again,” John replied firmly, “I screwed up last time. I am not doing that again. I know I made horrible choices and I’m always gonna be paying for them, but my son is not going to. I am not abandoning him ever again. After Bob… well, you know… it gave me clarity. Is that the right word? Clarity?”

“Yeah… I suppose so…” Bucky pondered it. Clarity seemed like a generous descriptor for what was one’s own personal hell, but if it helped John then good for him.

As for Bucky, all it seemed to do was make his nightmares all the more vivid. 

“Well… I suppose I gotta call Olivia now, let her get ahead of this if you really have screwed the pooch like you’re telling me,” John said with what Bucky could only assume was a shit-eating grin, “The CNN breakdown is gonna be a goldmine. Val probably won’t let you hear the end of it.”

“Honestly, I’m more worried about Yelena,” Bucky confessed, “Being on a Black Widow’s bad side is no joke.”

“Don’t I know it,” John replied, “Alright, catch ya later then, tell Casper the Unfriendly Ghost I said hello if you like.”

The quip about Ava would have bothered Bucky if it didn’t remind him of his original intent.

“Hey Walker, just one more thing before you go,” Bucky asked.

“Alright, Columbo, whaddya got?” John said, but Bucky frowned.

“Columbo?”

“Eh, I’ll tell you another time. What’s up?” 

Bucky cleared his throat and asked, “... Do you still love her? Olivia, I mean?”

“I never stopped,” John spoke without missing a beat, “And I don’t want to speak for her, she’s her own woman, but… she told me she never wanted me to leave. So… I guess we’ll see what happens.”

There was something about that that gave Bucky pause. Obviously John had wronged Olivia and their kid, but… even the tiniest glimmer of hope for the future was enough to give Bucky the confidence he was lacking.

“High school sweethearts…” Bucky mused, “How did you know she was the one?”

“Where’s this sudden interest in my love life coming from, Barnes?” John asked, catching onto Bucky’s agenda, “I’m pretty sure you didn’t call me so I could cry on your shoulder.”

“I don’t mean to pry, I just-”

“Wait… you’re seeing someone, aren’t you?” John asked, “What’s her name? Don’t tell me it's one of your Congressional aides, you’d be the next Charlie Wilson.”

“Walker, I’m not seeing anyone right now,” Bucky lied, a bit flustered now. Though it wasn’t a complete lie, he had yet to properly define what he and Ava were now. Of all things, he didn’t want John Walker to be the first person to know what had happened with Ava this morning, “I just wanted to know about you and Olivia because… well, like I said, I feel shitty about what I said before.”

“Water under the bridge, Bucky,” John assured him, “And don’t worry, I’m not gonna blab if you got a crush on someone. I’m not that pathetic. But to answer your question, about how I knew Olivia was the one… well, it’s like in The Godfather. You get hit with the thunderbolt.”

The silence that followed afterwards was one of mutual embarrassment between Bucky and John.

“Ah shit,” John grumbled, “Now Alexei’s ruined The Godfather for me.”

“What’s The Godfather, anyway?” Bucky asked.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes! You don’t know Columbo, you don’t know Godfather… ‘sounds like anti-Italian discrimination to me.’ And I bet you don’t even get that ref-”

“The Sopranos. That Silvio guy or whatever. Yelena showed me a TikTok of it,” Bucky responded without skipping a beat.

“MOTHERF- uuuugh…” John was frustrated in his response, but at least he wasn’t brooding like he had been, “You can really throw a guy for a loop, you know that?”

“Ditto,” Bucky retorted.

“But anyway yeah, the thunderbolt… the people that tell you love at first sight doesn’t exist, that’s bullshit. It’s real and it’s possible. But you gotta work at it too. And that was my mistake,” John sighed again, “I won’t ask names, but I do gotta ask… is she a thunderbolt?’

Bucky fought like hell to keep the laugh from escaping him. The whole thing was too goddamn poetic. 

“I think so,” Bucky said in as flat a voice as he could muster, “She’s a thunderbolt, alright.”

“Then brother, I wish you the best of luck,” John said, “But if you manage to screw the pooch with this one too, then we understand.”

“Up yours, Walker,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Love you too,” Walker said in a sing-song voice, and the line clicked off. Bucky just scoffed. That had been an interesting conversation.

Bucky laid the phone back down on his desk, his arm aching after being on the line so long, but he immediately looked down again and saw he had two text notifications in his inbox.

The first was from Mel. As per usual, Bucky deleted it without reading.

The second was from Ava.

“Can we meet?”

Bucky read and reread the text. Three simple words, and yet it was enough to make Bucky start perspiring again and his heart to start beating just a little bit faster.

Oh yeah, he’d definitely been hit with the thunderbolt.

The universe must have a really bizarre sense of humor.

Bucky didn’t hesitate after that. He yanked the tie off from around his neck, took off his sweat-soaked suit, put on his replacement clothes consisting of black jeans, black boots, black T-shirt and black leather jacket (he was rather fond of the color black), and abandoned everything else he didn’t need.

He grabbed his phone and the keys to his truck, and then he was out of his office in a flash. As he finally exited the Capitol Building, Bucky typed a reply to Ava’s beckoning call.

“Where at?”