A/N: This is a companion piece to is it love? and takes place after the first two chapters. Warnings for major character injury, blood and injury, and language, as well as a character having a near panic attack.

This is hard T fic, bordering on M, but I rated it M just to be safe. Read at your own discretion.

The first time Bucky woke up, he was in a hospital bed and everything was white. Blinding, brilliant white that reflected off every surface and burned his eyes was all he could see. He squeezed his eyes shut and, trying to sit up, muttered "Steve?"

If Steve was anywhere around, he knew he would come for him, because that was the unspoken promise they had made for each other time and time again before they ever said the words. After all, they had each other's soulmarks.

"Nein," a cold voice said off to his left, and firm hands pushed Bucky back onto the bed.

He didn't resist; he was too stunned to think anything but, Germans, Hydra, where's Steve? in a loop that echoed around and around in his mind. There was the prick of a needle in his neck and everything went black.

The second time Bucky woke up, his left arm was gone, and with it, his soulmark. He stared for a moment, unable to comprehend it. His soulmark, the thing that tied him and Steve together beyond words or actions, was gone, just like that.

He remembered the stolen kisses in the dark, the times after missions when they would sneak away from the Commandos to spend the night together, alone. He remembered the heat when Steve was leaning over him as he pushed into him again and again, their hands locked together and lips meeting again and again.

There was a noise of disgust from his left, the direction of his missing arm, and Bucky turned his head to look. A scientist was standing there, his lab coat emblazoned with the Hydra symbol. "If you're quite finished…remembering," he said in heavily accented English.

Bucky saw red. Lunging forward and sending a trays of surgical tools clattering to the floor, he wrapped his right hand around the man's throat, squeezing as hard as he could. "You took this!" he shouted. "You stole my arm, you stole Steve, you stole my soulmark." He pushed harder, with strength he didn't even know he had.

He knew he was crying, hot tears running down his face as he throttled the man but he couldn't bring himself to care. His last link to life had been stolen, and he would never get it back. Behind him, there were sirens and the sound of running feet, and then hands were prying him away and pushing him back into the chair he was in when he'd first woken up.

There was the prick of a needle in his neck and everything went black.

The third time Bucky woke up, he had a metal arm and wasn't Bucky anymore. There was a red star painted on his arm, and the Winter Soldier looked at it. Why was it there? He tried to remember, but pain erupted in his forehead. He pitched forward, cradling his head in his hands as pain mixed with the scent of sex on the summer breeze.

"Good," a low voice said in Russian. "It's working," then, "Stop trying to remember, and the pain will stop."

The Winter Soldier listened. He stopped trying to remember and instead listened as the voice told him his mission.

He carried it out perfectly, coming back exactly as he was instructed. There was the prick of a needle in his neck and everything went black.

Bucky never woke up again. The Winter Soldier carried out his missions throughout the world, never remembering what the red star meant. He didn't try to remember either, in fear of the pain coming back; he had enough pain in his life, he didn't need more.

Only once had he seen the same star on someone else. There was a girl he had been sent to kill – assassinate his handlers insisted, it was a kinder word, they said – and on her shoulder there had been a red star. There was another mark he'd seen on her back as she escaped with a knife in her hand and a haunted look in her eyes, leaving blood dripping from his one flesh-and-blood arm.

It was three circles, red white and blue, arranged around a white star. The Winter Soldier thought about it for a minute, images of laughter and soft kisses coming to his mind as well as hard, frantic sex, almost fearful. The images only lasted for a split second and then the pain was back.

The pain that came with remembering was the worst and the Winter Soldier went back to his handlers as quickly as he could, telling them exactly what had happened. They nodded understandingly, healing his wrist, and then hooked him up to a machine and told him to remember.

"No," he said. It hurt, and he was tired of hurting.

One of his handlers smiled, her teeth reminding the Winter Soldier of a predator. "It won't hurt," she promised, but her eyes said the exact opposite.

"No," the Winter Soldier said again, a bit more uncertainly. The memories hadn't even been bad. Why did they hurt him if they weren't bad?

There was a muffled discussion beside him and then there was the prick of a needle in his neck and everything went black.

Tony rounded the corner, pulling on his pants as he rushed after Clint. They had been enjoying a nice, post-mission fuck when the alert had come over Jarvis's system. Tony had gasped for Jarvis to turn it off at first, but the A.I. had only responded with, "I'm sorry, sir, this is Priority One."

So now, here he was, half-hard, stumbling into the living room right behind Clint. They settled at the large coffee table that had become the unofficial Avengers meeting place and waited for the rest of the team.

Steve was already there, his face settled into an impassive mask that Tony had come to recognize as only being there to keep from shattering into a thousand pieces. Natasha was sitting beside him, cleaning a wickedly sharp knife, and the scowl on her face made Tony extremely grateful she wasn't angry at him.

There was a crack of lightning in the sky and then Thor was standing on the balcony, the rainbow of the Bifrost fading around him. "Heimdall told me there was a grave emergency," he said, striding into through the automatic doors and sitting beside Clint.

"Something like that," Steve said with a stiff smile.

"Where's Bruce?" Natasha asked, setting the now-clean knife on the table and producing another one from nowhere that Tony could see.

"Right here," a quiet voice said and then Bruce was sitting between her and Tony. "Jarvis told me it was Priority One."

"Yup, and he interrupted Clint screwing my brains out so there better be a really good reason – " Tony started.

"They found Bucky," Steve stated, and those three words sucked all the air out of the room.

Natasha muttered what the fuck in Russian, nearly dropping her knife. "Are you sure?" she asked.

"Yes," Steve nodded, worrying a loose thread in his shirtsleeve.

"You had better be," she told him, her eyes suspiciously bright.

"I know," Steve said, his tone more tired than sharp.

No one spoke for a long moment and then Clint shrugged and stood up. "Well, what the fuck are we waiting for? Everyone suit up!"

All the Avengers showing up at SHIELD headquarters together was a good way to ensure the attention of everyone, including Fury.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he asked once they were all standing in his office.

"Retrieving James Barnes from behind enemy lines, sir," Steve said, his tone completely respectful, although Tony suspected there was more than a little insubordination lurking behind it.

"Over my dead body you are," Fury said bluntly. "James Barnes has been missing ever since 1942." He fixed Steve with a hard stare. "And if you think you'll be taking my team into Hydra territory to go look for him, you are sorely mistaken, soldier."

Clint scoffed, the noise loud in the quiet following Fury's words. "With all due respect, Director," he said, "we're under his command, not yours."

The proclamation stunned Tony, especially from Clint. Of course all of them assumed the others first commitment was to the Avengers, most of all now that they'd discovered their shared soulbond. But to say it here and now, to Fury of all people – he felt like grabbing Clint and giving him a scorching kiss.

"Are you serious, Agent?" Fury demanded.

"Deadly," Natasha answered him, activating her widow bites with a meaningful look.

"Are you threatening me?" Fury asked, his eye narrowing in a glare.

"No, sir," Steve put in before anyone else could answer, shooting Natasha a meaningful look. "We're telling you. We're going to Sokovia, rescuing James Barnes and bringing him back."

"If you walk out of my office, Rogers, you realize that you aren't under SHIELD's authority."

Bruce cleared his throat, and everyone paused at the sound. An angry Bruce Banner was never good news, and even Fury looked slightly uncomfortable. "I hate to cause trouble," he said, and Tony know just how true that was, even if the director didn't, "but the captain is correct. We're leaving, with or without your permission."

No one missed the subtle implications just beneath his words, and Steve put his hand on Bruce's shoulder. It was a gesture meant to comfort the scientist as much as demonstrate their solidarity to Fury.

"Look, sir," Steve said, the title losing a little respect each time he said it, "we aren't afraid of going in there alone. We only came here to tell you we're going."

There was a momentary pause and then Fury sighed. "You are aware you're walking straight into a Hydra base, probably one of their most well-equipped?"

"Yes," Tony answered, silently wondering just how Fury knew that.

Another beat of silence passed and then Fury nodded. "Take the Quinjet."

Wanda Maximoff twisted her power into the corners of her cell where the metal met the window between her and her soulmate's cells. There was nothing there, she knew, but she kept trying. Trying to find somewhere where a wisp of energy might slither through, a way to break the window, a way to escape.

Beside her, Pietro vibrated with energy. He couldn't do anything, but the Hydra scientists loved to watch him use his powers, exulting over the triumph of science they had achieved. It galled Wanda to admit, but she loved watching him too.

Pietro was beautiful. The lines of his body, the texture of his hair, and the way he could truly move if he was released were all things Wanda loved to look at and think about.

In his cell, Pietro stopped moving and sat cross-legged in front of the glass. "How are you?" he said, putting one hand up to the glass and spreading out his fingers.

"Bored," Wanda replied honestly, covering his hand with hers. This was the closest they came to touching, and she waited for the day when it was different, the day when she could interlock fingers with her soulmate and press a kiss to his temple.

"I know," Pietro said, giving her a sad smile. It was the closest he had ever come to laughing, and Wanda ached to hear what his true laugh would sound like. She imagined it was full and rich and infectious, and she smiled at the idea.

Distantly, an explosion sounded and the glass between their hands trembled. Wanda frowned. "What was that?"

Pietro shrugged. "Probably one of their experiments," he said, the word dripping with hatred.

There was another explosion, closer this time, and the walls of their cells shook. A sprinkle of dust drifted down from the concrete above Wanda's head, and she had an idea.

Standing up, she started to gather her power, red wisps of energy surrounding her hands. She surveyed the wall, looking for the spot that had shook the most and then thrust her hands forward. The ball of energy collided with the wall and shook the entire cell. It was the most effect her powers had ever had, and she watched in awe as a shockwave of energy rippled across the concrete.

It faded, and for a moment nothing happened. Wanda glanced at Pietro and shrugged, forcing a smile. "Oh well," she said.

"No, do it again!" Pietro said urgently, pointing at the spot where her power had collided with the wall.

There was a tiny crater in the cement, with nearly-invisible cracks spidering out from it. Wanda gasped, summoning her powers again as she saw it too. She slammed energy into the spot, over and over again, until there was a pit in the wall. Shards of cement surrounded her and dust was drifting across the floor and gathering in her hair.

"Keep going!" Pietro encouraged her, nearly grinning. It was the largest smile she'd ever seen on his face, and she grinned in response.

Reaching towards the wall, she felt the concrete for weak spots where it was close to caving in. Sending wisps of energy through the cement, she started to pull them apart and send the cement crumbling. Pushing against the inward collapse of the wall, she sent it tumbling outwards into what she hoped was a corridor they could use to escape.

With a grating noise the wall slid apart. Wanda caught the largest chunks and pushed them outwards, using both her hands and her powers. Finally, there was a pile of rubble sliding outwards into a darkened hallway where the wall used to be.

Standing on the other side was a man with a bow and arrows with an unfamiliar insignia on his clothing.

Steve fought his way through the Hydra base, the Hulk's shouts still ringing in his ears. They had all known what was going to happen: Bruce and Tony outside while Natasha, Clint and Steve went to find Bucky, but it still hurt to leave any of them alone during a fight.

Not right now, Steve ordered himself, pushing aside the emotions ruthlessly and refocusing on the task at hand. Find Bucky.

Outside there was a massive explosion and Tony's voice came over the comms. "Hey Cap," he said, his voice tight with anger. "Looks like Bucky isn't the only one down here."

"What?" Natasha said, the question deadly.

"Yeah," Tony continued. "I just captured one of these lowlifes and it sounds like there's a brother-sister pair somewhere in here. Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch are their code names."

Steve exchanged a glance with Natasha and Clint. There was no question about it; one of them had to go find these two.

"I'll go," Clint said almost immediately.

Steve frowned. "Are you sure?" he asked, a smaller explosion vibrating the cement under their feet.

Clint nodded, an arrow already on the string. "Absolutely," he said. "Go find your soulmate." And then he was gone, a shadow fading into the dim light of the hallway.

Ten seconds later, Steve was following Natasha as they crept further into the base. There were less soldiers now, the order to evacuate being top priority. One tried to charge them, but all he got was Natasha's knife in his chest.

"Where is he?" Steve asked, pressing the man up against the wall.

"Who?" the soldier spat, blood staining the corner of his mouth.

Natasha stepped up, holding another knife. "The Winter Soldier," she snapped. Only Steve saw that the glint in her eyes wasn't entirely from anger.

The soldiers eyes narrowed and he spat on the floor at their feet. "Good luck finding him," he scoffed. "Just pray he doesn't find you first."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Steve demanded, shaking the man.

Natasha sighed. "There's no use," she said, cursing under her breath in a language Steve didn't recognize. "He's unconscious."

Lowering the man roughly to the floor, Steve turned to stare at Natasha. "What do you mean, 'the Winter Soldier'?" he asked.

There was another explosion and Natasha shook her head. "Not now," she said, looking into the shadows just behind Steve. "We don't have time." Activating her Widow bites, she started down the hallway again, leaving him to follow her.

The Winter Soldier opened his eyes. The base was under attack and it was his job to defend it. The sound of the sirens blaring throughout the compound faded in and out as he ran through the hallways towards the spot his handlers had pointed out to him.

Arriving at a point where two hallways intersected, he paused. There was nothing but shadows and yet something was off. He looked around cautiously and lowered himself into a crouch. Almost silently, he clenched his metal hand into a fist. Nothing got past him; he was the Winter Soldier.

In the darkness, almost directly opposite from him, the Winter Soldier heard a sound. It was barely audible and yet he recognized it immediately. It was a choked noise, like a suddenly stifled scream. The slight noise brought a sudden rush of sensation: friendly laughter, an arm around his shoulders, the smell of campfire smoke. As suddenly as they had appeared, they were gone. The Winter Soldier shook his head. He couldn't allow himself to be distracted. Slipping a knife from a sheath on his thigh, he drew back his arm and prepared to throw it.

Whoever it was, whatever their mission was, they would not succeed. He would ensure that. With all the stealth that was trained into him, the Winter Soldier launched the knife directly at his target.

In the sky, above where the Hulk was making hamburger out of the Hydra soldiers, Tony dodged a barrage of anti-aircraft fire. Spiraling to the left, he shouted Thor's name and fired a repulsor beam at the demigod. Catching it on the side of his hammer, Thor directed it towards the Hydra guns. The resulting explosion wasn't nearly as loud or powerful as some of the others, but Tony still grinned viciously.

"Nice work, Thor!" he shouted, hovering in midair to assess the battle.

"Likewise, Man of Iron!" Thor shouted back, landing on the ground with a shockwave that felled a group of Hydra goons.

Tony held out one arm, preparing to fire another beam, but a sudden burst of static filled his ears. "Jarvis, what the hell?" he shouted.

"Sir, it appears the underground base is blocking your reception," Jarvis said.

Tony rolled his eyes, dropping through the air until his feet nearly touched the ground. They must be using S.H.I.E.L.D tech, he griped internally. Stark tech could get reception anywhere. The static lessened, until words were coming through in short bursts.

"This is Black Widow….agent down…." Natasha said, sounding almost out of breath. "Quickly….emergency…..injuries."

"Sir, would you like me to show you the best route into the base?" Jarvis offered, his tone as worried as he ever sounded.

Tony scoffed, shooting back up into the sky until he was hovering twenty feet off the ground. "Fuck that." Choosing a partially-collapsed area of the building, he stared at it for a long moment before firing off several precisely placed repulsor beams. The wall collapsed, and Tony flew straight through the opening into the building beyond.

"Okay, now it's map time, Jarvis."

"Who are you?" Pietro asked, moving to stand beside Wanda.

The stranger looked the two of them up and down. "Are you Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch?" he asked, relaxing his hold on his bowstring.

"Yes," Wanda said shortly. "Who are you?"

The stranger stepped over a particularly large chunk of rubble and held out his hand. "I'm Hawkeye," he said. "We're here to get you out."

Pietro looked at Wanda, a clear question in his eyes. Can we trust him?

Wanda sighed. If they couldn't, they could at least defend themselves. Extending her hands, she pushed and red energy carved a path through the pieces of fallen wall. "Let's go," she said, looking over her shoulder at Pietro.

"Which way?" he asked.

Hawkeye cocked his head back down the hallway. "Follow me."

Wanda looked up at Pietro. Let's go, her expression said. Stepping forward, she started to make her way through the path her powers had carved for her.

She had barely taken a few steps when the hallway started to shake. The lights flickered and then went out entirely, while the corridor began to cave in on itself. There was a loud crack as the wall split in two, smaller cracks splintering off of each other, all the way up to where it joined the ceiling.

Hawkeye started talking quickly in the dark, his words short and clipped. "Hello? Come in, Cap? Anyone there?" He tore it off his ear with a curse and shoved it in his pocket. "Fine. You two," he turned to look at Pietro and Wanda, "need to come with me now."

The sentence was barely out of his mouth when there was another explosion and everything truly started to cave in. Grabbing Pietro by the wrist and shoving Hawkeye, Wanda flung all of them to the floor and shoved up with her power at the same time. A red dome appeared over them, shimmering slightly as the concrete collapsed around them.

Barely able to make anything out in the dim light of her powers, Wanda squeezed her eyes shut and lowered her head as chunks of debris thudded off of them. She didn't know how long the cave-in lasted for, but eventually it stopped.

"It's okay," Pietro said into her ear, their heads nearly touching. "You can stop now."

Shakily, Wanda sat up and vanished the dome. "I – I," she began, not knowing what to say.

Hawkeye interrupted her. "You're my soulmate," he said breathlessly, one hand touching the back of his neck.

Natasha crept soundlessly through the hallways, Steve following her every move. He had no idea how she knew where she was going, but it didn't matter right now. Right now, the only thing that mattered was saving Bucky.

Bucky's alive. He's alive, alive, alive, ran on an endless loop through Steve's mind along with old memories of long summer nights spent together, of the first night after he had rescued Bucky and they had made love all night, exploring each other all over again, tracing each other's soulmarks. He could barely believe it; he had expected to die crashing into the ice seventy years ago, and now, to not only wake up but to find out Bucky was alive –

Steve forced his train of thought to stop as Natasha paused in front of him. She looked around, then knelt silently, motioning Steve to do the same.

Lowering himself to the ground, Steve looked around. They were at the intersection of two hallways and now that he was focusing, he could tell that someone was watching them from the shadows opposite of them.

Natasha activated her widow bites and they flared blue without a single sound. Steve mentally congratulated Tony's tech and shifted backwards as Natasha shifted forwards, the move long practiced in the gym of the Tower.

There was a slight movement across the corridor, and Steve adjusted his own stance. The shadows shifted slightly and the inky black lightened just enough that Steve could see the outline of the person's face.

It was Bucky.

Steve started to make a sound, but the sudden revelation stole his breath and the shout turned into a strangled wheeze. It was enough.

Bucky's arm – an odd colour in the strange light – propelled forward, and Steve saw the shape of the knife turning end over end in the air too late to do anything as it catapulted towards him.

It was 1975 in Lithuania and Natalia Romanova was staring down a snowy street at the Winter Soldier. He had been sent to kill her and her handlers had ordered her to switch targets. The crooked billionaire she had been sent after no longer mattered they told her. The Winter Soldier needed to be eliminated.

So here she was, late at night, facing down Hydra's specially prepared weapon. He stalked toward her expressionless, and she took out her pistol and started shooting. Body mass, centre target, exactly as she'd been taught, she emptied her clip at him.

None of them connected. Instead, he deflected each of them; hot metal chewing up the pavement around them as he kept advancing.

Natalia didn't know what to think. She hadn't been taught what to do – she turned to run and slipped on a patch of black ice – she was lying on ground as he advanced – he loomed over her and there was a sudden pain in her ribs –

"Widow! Widow! Natasha!"

Natasha snapped back to reality; lying on cold concrete, she stared up at Steve. He leaned over her, tears gathering in his eyes.

Raising one hand to her ear, she started talking. "This is Black Widow, there's an agent down and the Winter Soldier is present. Hurry quickly, this is an emergency with possibly life-threatening injuries." Finished, she dropped her hand.

"Why did you do that?" Steve demanded.

Natasha shook her head. Now was not the time; the Winter Soldier was still present. "Tell you later," she rasped, feeling blood starting to pool in her lungs.

Steve nodded, understanding her unspoken message. The mask of soldier and commander slipped back into place and he stood, picking up his shield.

"Bucky!" he shouted, moving closer to the Winter Soldier.

Natasha closed her eyes, hoping someone would arrive soon. I'm sorry, Clint, she apologized mentally, struggling for breath. Trading one life for another wasn't unfamiliar to her; she just hoped her soulmate would be able to forgive her.

Tony sped through the hallways as fast as he dared, Jarvis's instructions the only noise he could hear over his heartbeat and breathing. He had known when they had walked out of Fury's office that they needed backup and he'd still told S.H.I.E.L.D to fuck off like the arrogant jackass he was.

He slowed to a stop at the end of a hallway, seeing Natasha lying on the ground like a discarded doll. His heart skip a beat as he ran towards her. "No, no, no," he chanted, dropping to his knees beside her. "Diagnostic scan."

In his palm there was a whirring noise and Natasha's body was bathed in blue light. "Punctured lung and pericardium, no injuries to the heart, severed artery," Jarvis read out.

"Oh shit, shit, shit," Tony swore. Chest wounds were no joke, and he could tell from the look on Natasha's face that she had minutes, at best, before she bled out entirely. "Thor!" he shouted into his comm, praying that the demigod was listening, "I need you and Bruce here yesterday!"

"Is one of our comrades injured?" Thor asked.

"Yes, now hurry up!" Tony snapped.

"Aye," Thor said, his tone serious. "I will bring Banner with all speed."

Opening his faceplate, Tony continued to curse under his breath. "What the hell did you think you were doing, Nat?" he demanded.

Natasha looked up at him. "Couldn't," she wheezed, "…let Steve…"

"Don't talk," Tony interrupted her. "Just – just stay alive."

With a crack of lightning, a section of the ceiling poured into the hallway along with what seemed like a ton of dirt. Before the dust cleared, Thor was standing over Tony, Bruce with him.

"What happened?" Bruce asked, his usual post-Hulk tiredness replaced with worry as he took in the sight of Natasha.

"Knife to the chest," Tony said, moving aside to let Bruce work. "Are you any good at being a field medic?"

Bruce laughed bitterly. "I've had to be," he said, starting to work on Natasha.

Thor's knuckles were white on the handle of Mjolnir as he watched the scene. "I will pray to the gods for her," he said, enough static electricity in the air to make the hair on the back of Tony's neck stand up.

"Bucky!" Steve took a step towards his long-lost best friend, lover, soulmate. Trying not to think about Natasha, he put up his shield and took another step forward. "Bucky," he said quieter.

"Who the hell is Bucky?"

Steve stopped. The words echoed in his mind, who the hell is Bucky, rebounding louder and louder until they drowned out everything else. Who did this to you? He wanted to scream, to grab Bucky and demand answers, but this wasn't his friend anymore. The same God-damned organization that had tried to kill them seventy years ago had resurfaced, dragging his soulmate through hell. He wanted to find them all, every person who had ever done this to Bucky and kill them slowly and painfully.

He stared at Bucky, at the empty eyes of a best friend that no longer recognized him. He opened his mouth to say something, anything, but he couldn't.

Then, the penny dropped and Bucky took off, sprinting through the halls like a demon was after him.

Steve managed to keep up without losing Bucky, but his heart felt like it was breaking for the second time as those five words kept resounding inside of him. Old memories kept resurfacing and he kept shoving them down. The first day they'd discovered they had the same soulmark and the kiss they had shared, full of hope and promises. The night they'd slept together after Bucky had enlisted, bittersweet and full of tears both good and bad. The day after Steve's rescue mission, when both of them could barely walk. The memories threatened to overwhelm him, but Steve kept running.

Slipping the shield off his arm, Steve threw it. Glancing off one wall, it slammed into Bucky and sent him sprawling to the floor. Pulling to a stop next to him, Steve looked down to see that he was out cold. "I'm sorry," he apologized, barely aware of the tears running down his face. "I'm so, so sorry, Bucky."

"Your soulmate?" Scarlet Witch repeated, staring at him with wide eyes.

Clint nodded, ducking his head so she could see the mark on the back of his neck. Looking back at her, he smiled slightly.

"As charming as this is," Quicksilver interrupted them, "we need to leave." He was scowling as he stood up, and then he blurred and was gone.

"Pietro!" Scarlet Witch cried, reaching out too slowly.

Clint picked up his arrow, slotting an arrow onto the string in less than ten seconds. "Where the hell did he go?" he asked. Human experimentation could turn out badly, he knew. Every high-ranking agent had been required to read the reports that S.H.I.E.L.D had confiscated from the Weapon X trials.

"It's fine," Scarlet Witch said quickly. "It's just – just his gift."

Clint didn't lower his bow, but he relaxed his grip. "You mean the 'gift' those people gave you?" he asked, wishing he could hunt down every single person that had ever touched his new-found soulmate and hand them over for the trainees to practice their interrogation skills on.

The ground started to tremble slightly under their feet and a red haze surrounded Scarlet Witch's fists. "Yes," she snapped. She took a deep breath and the trembling stopped. "He'll be back," she said calmly, the red haze disappearing.

Sure enough, Pietro re-appeared less than a minute later. "They're gone," he said. Looking straight at Scarlet Witch, he took one of her hands in both of his. "We're safe," he whispered, touching their foreheads together.

Tony paced up and down the corridor where Bruce was working on Natasha. It's been a month! A fucking month! He fumed internally, clenching and unclenching his fists. This is so fucking unfair! Life wasn't fair, he knew that. Damn, he'd internalized it, but this was absolutely unforgivable. Natasha was a good person; there was no way she deserved to die.

"Tony!" Steve's voice interrupted his train of thought.

"What is it?" Tony snapped, stopping.

"It's – it's Bucky," Steve said, his voice shaking.

Tony hesitated. Steve's crying. Something about the realization shook him, and he leaned against the wall. "Yeah?" he said, trying his best to ignore the pressure building behind his eyes.

"I've got him."

Tony sighed, sifting through the strings of curses running through his mind. "Is he okay?"

There was a long pause and then, with a shaky inhale, "Yeah."

"Okay," Tony said, sliding into a sitting position against the wall. Across the corridor, Natasha gasped for breath. It was a sound Tony had heard too much, the sound that death too often followed. "Do you know where we are?" he asked, forcing his thoughts to narrow to Steve.

"I think so," Steve said.

There was a hand on Tony's shoulder and he looked up to see Thor looking at him with a serious expression. "I will go find Steven," he said.

"Okay," Tony repeated again, the word almost meaningless by now.

Thor stared at him for a moment, looking almost worried, and then left.

Tony stayed, back against the wall, mind going in more directions than he could count, staring across the hall to where his soulmate was fighting for her life.

Steve had no idea what to do. He'd found Bucky – found him after he'd given up all hope – and now he didn't recognize him. The sentence from before still rang in his head, and Steve didn't know if he'd ever be able to forget it. "I'm sorry," he whispered again.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway and Steve turned to see Thor. The demigod looked at him and nodded. Without a word he knelt next to Bucky.

"He's alive," Steve said.

"I understand," Thor said, not talking about Bucky at all. His eyes fixed on Steve with all the love and understanding his soulmates loved. "You will recover."

Steve watched Thor pick up Bucky. Will I? he wondered. If Bucky didn't get his memory back, if he always thought Steve was an enemy to be killed, that would be worse than him being killed seventy years ago, Steve knew.

Silently, he trailed Thor down the corridors, their size making the demigod look even larger than usual. "Where are we going?" he asked after a moment.

Thor stopped in his tracks. "Natasha has been injured," he said. "Banner is working to render her all the aid he is capable of, but we need help to arrive soon."

Steve couldn't speak for a moment. He'd known Natasha was injured, had seen and felt her putting herself in the path of Bucky's knife, but something in Thor's voice was too final. "She won't die," he said.

Thor refused to meet his eyes, and Steve stood up straight, his commanding instincts coming alive again. "She won't die," he repeated. "Let's go."

Wanda broke away from Pietro after a moment and turned to Hawkeye. "Where do we go?" she asked.

Hawkeye looked around at the destroyed hallway and stepped towards the sunlight streaming in through the collapsed outside wall. Taking his earpiece from his pocket, he put it back in. "Hello?" he asked, "Nat? Cap?"

"What's he doing?" Pietro muttered, putting one hand around Wanda's waist.

"Getting us help," Wanda said under her breath. "Stop being rude."

Across from them, Hawkeye's eyes went wide and he began cursing in a string of languages, only two of which Wanda recognized. "Okay, we need to find the rest of my team now," he said, turning back to them. He kept cursing as he looked around. "Do either of you know the way out of here?"

Pietro let go of Wanda and stepped towards him. "I can find it," he said.

"How do I know you won't run away?" Hawkeye asked.

Wanda wanted to laugh. Would you run away from your soulmate? "He won't," she said, stepping between the two of them. "I'll come with you," she said to Hawkeye.

Pietro looked like he was fuming inwardly, but he nodded. "I will back in a moment," he said and disappeared in a blur.

"So," Hawkeye said after a beat of silence, "he's your soulmate?"

"How did you know?" Wanda asked. Hawkeye had seemed glad that they were soulmates, but the Hydra scientists had done extra experiments the day they discovered that she and Pietro shared their marks.

"Lucky guess," Hawkeye shrugged.

Wanda would have said more, but Pietro arrived in a rush of air. "I found it," he announced without preamble. "Follow me."

They started walking, Pietro in the lead and Hawkeye bringing up the rear. Wanda wanted to say something more to Hawkeye, but she knew now wasn't the time.

"Pietro?" she said softly in Sokovian. "Why do you hate him?"

"I don't," he replied, leading them around a spot where another wall had partially collapsed. "I just don't trust him."

"Why not? He helped us escape," she pointed out.

"And it's rather interesting that you find your soulmate now, eh?"

Wanda sighed, another distant explosion rocking the floor under their feet slightly. "Is it convenient that we're soulmates?" she asked.

Pietro started to respond, before stopping. "Hold on," he said in English before running off.

"Where'd he go?" Hawkeye snapped, ready to shoot immediately.

"I don't know," Wanda replied. Escaping was never supposed to be this difficult! All she'd ever wanted was for her and Pietro to escape by themselves and live their own lives, away from everyone else.

"Hey, it's all right," Hawkeye said, and Wanda realized she was crying.

"Sorry," she apologized.

Hawkeye shook his head. "It's fine," he replied, raising a hand to wipe his own eyes.

Pietro re-appeared. "There's a group of people not far away," he said, looking at Hawkeye. "They seem to know who you are."

Tony barely registered when Steve sat down next to him. He hadn't felt this trapped since Afghanistan, and he was trying not to give in to the raw panic he was feeling.

"I called Fury," Steve said hollowly.

"Okay," Tony said mechanically.

There was a commotion around the corner, and Tony sighed, flipping down his faceplate.

"I can handle it," Steve said.

"No," Tony cut him off. He'd seen the repercussions this mission was having on Steve, and he wasn't going to add to that if he could avoid it in any way. Standing up, he walked around the corner. "Who's there – " he asked, and then Clint was in his arms.

"Fuck, I'm so glad to see you," Clint whispered, detaching himself awkwardly. "Where's Nat?"

"Around the corner," Tony pointed. "Banner's helping her."

Clint nodded, slotting the arrow he was carrying back into his quiver. "These are Quicksilver and Scarlet Witch," he said, pointing to the two people behind him.

"Okay," Tony said. Two more people – that they'd rescued on purpose – and, yeah, Fury was going to kill all of them. "Tell them to sit over there," he said, pointing to where Thor was sitting a little ways off from the group.

Stumbling back over to where Steve was and sliding back down to the floor, Tony exhaled shakily and flipped his faceplate back up. If he'd had it down for a little longer –

"Hey," Steve said beside him, hand on his shoulder. "We're all here."

Tony nodded jerkily. "Yeah," he agreed, forcing himself to believe in the words just the tiniest bit. "We're here."

"Fury is here," Thor said, and the words jumpstarted the emotions in Tony's head all over again.

"Great," he sighed, standing up, "time for the fucking fourth-degree."

It was every bit as bad as Tony had predicted.

"What in the hell were you thinking?" Fury demanded, leaning towards Tony.

The inventor flinched, and Steve had to concentrate on not breaking the table. "Sir, permission to leave?" he asked.

"Permission denied," Fury said without looking at him, before looking at Clint. "Agent, why didn't you have your comm link in?"

Clint stared at the table, his worry for both Natasha and the siblings he'd brought in obvious. "Reception was out, sir," he said.

"Not an excuse," Fury said coldly.

Steve felt a hand grab his under the table and looked over at Tony. The engineer's face was pale and Steve could feel his hands shaking. "It's okay," he whispered, and Tony shook his head.

"That's what Howard used to say," he whispered back.

Something in Steve snapped. Tony had never talked about his father in Steve's presence since that day on the helicarrier, and he'd certainly never mentioned anything about their relationship. That he was doing it now, to Steve of all people, meant absolutely nothing good.

"Sir," Steve said, barely getting the word out as Fury looked in his direction, "we're leaving." Not giving Fury a chance to respond, he looked at Bruce and Thor, who seemed the most put-together. "Go."

"What do you think you're doing, soldier?" Fury asked, as the rest of the team filed out of the room.

Steve let out a breath. "It's unacceptable to treat my team like that, Director. We have just come back from a mission, and debriefing can wait until tomorrow. Additionally, once it has been proven that James Barnes is no longer a security threat he will be joining us at the Tower."

Fury scoffed. "And I suppose you want the Maximoff's too?"

Is that their name? Steve filed the information away for later and nodded. "Yes." Clint had told them all on the ride over how one of them was his soulmate, and Steve hated the idea of them being split up if he had anything to do with it.

He paused, and Fury evaluated him coolly. "Should I take that as a declaration that the Avengers are no longer under S.H.I.E.L.D authority?" he asked sarcastically.

Steve thought about his team. What the hell, he figured. "Yes, sir, you can. The Avengers will be allied with S.H.I.E.L.D but are no longer under your jurisdiction."

Not waiting to be dismissed, Steve turned and walked out of the room.

Wanda didn't know what to think anymore. She and Pietro had been rescued but now her and Pietro were sitting in separate rooms, almost exactly like their Hydra cells, except they couldn't see each other. Hawkeye had disappeared, and now she was alone.

With a sigh, she sent a spark of energy towards one of the security cameras. The spark fizzled and died almost immediately, and Wanda sighed, cursing under her breath in Sokovian.

Suddenly, there were muffled voices started talking outside, and the door flew open. "You're coming with us," Hawkeye said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

Wanda grinned and stood up from her chair. "Hawkeye!" she said excitedly.

"I'm here too," a familiar voice said and Wanda laughed in happiness. Throwing herself into Pietro's arms, she kissed him on the cheek.

"Let's go," Hawkeye said, not unkindly. "The plane is waiting."

"I hate leaving him there," Steve muttered as Clint piloted the Quinjet towards the Tower.

"I know," Bruce said, almost falling asleep on Thor's shoulder. "They said Nat'll be in recovery for three weeks."

"That was some ballsy move you pulled back there, Cap," Tony said with a smirk that was a shadow of its normal self.

Steve shrugged. "I couldn't let him put you down like that," he said.

Sliding a bit closer to Steve on the bench seat, Tony murmured, "I could kiss you right now."

"Why don't you?"

"Really?" Tony leaned back slightly. "Most of the time when I say that, people call me a douche."

"I won't call you that," Steve promised, closing the distance himself.