The group quickly walk through dark halls underneath a secret facility that even they didn't know had existed. A man, who looks like he may be some kind of doctor, runs towards them before his eyes drop down to the wound on Natasha's shoulder that's currently oozing blood onto her clothes and the hand gripping it. "GSW. She's lost at least a pint." Hill informs the man.
"Maybe two." Sam bursts in, taking a glance at the wound and the state that Natasha's currently in.
"Let me take her." The doctor tells them, reaching to help support Natasha into the yellow-lit room nearing the end of the corridor.
Hill shakes her head slightly, leading her into the room where a couple of beds are laid, curtains circling them for privacy. "She'll want to see him first." She tells her. She moves one of the curtains away, showing them Fury who is currently lying on a bed, alive and awake but hooked up to monitors.
"About damn time." Fury remarks as a doctor comes over and starts to treat Natasha's wound. "Lacerated spinal column, cracked sternum, shattered collarbone, perforated liver, one hell of a headache."
"Don't forget your collapsed lung." The doctor reminds him, glancing at the man before going back to focusing on the wound.
"Oh, let's not forget that. Otherwise, I'm good." He says.
"They cut you open, your heart stopped." Natasha argues, looking at him in confusion.
"Tetrodotoxin B." Fury answers. "Slows the pulse to one beat a minute. Banner developed it for stress. Didn't work so great for him, but we found a use for it."
"Why all the secrecy? Why not just tell us?" Steve asks, sounding angry at him, accusatory.
Fury didn't reply, keeping his dark eye on Steve, glancing at Sasha before looking right back at Steve. Hill sighed, looking over at the blond man. "Any attempt on the director's life had to look successful." She explained as if it was obvious.
"Can't kill you if you're already dead." Fury gave what could almost be considered a smirk at him. "Besides, I wasn't sure who to trust." He is helped up and moved over to a desk, placing a picture of Pierce onto the table. Their circle is lightened up so they can see whatever is placed down, the rest of the room plunged in darkness. "This man declined the Nobel Peace Prize. He said, 'Peace wasn't an achievement, it was a responsibility.'" He looks up at the others, sounding distasteful at Pierce. "See, it's stuff like this that gives me trust issues."
"We have to stop the launch." Sasha says before Natasha could get a word in, her mouth closing slightly, looking at the woman.
Fury puts a case onto the table, his hand placed on top of it. "I don't think the Council's accepting my calls anymore." He replies dryly before opening it, showing three chips inside the case.
Sam walks over and looks down at the chips in confusion. "What's that?" He asked, pointing at them.
"Once the Helicarriers reach three thousand feet, they'll triangulate with Insight satellites becoming fully weaponized." Hill explained.
"We need to breach those carriers and replace their targeting blades with our own." Fury continues.
"One or two won't cut it." Hill warns. "We need to link all three carriers for this to work, because if even one of those ships remains operational a whole lot of people are gonna die."
"We have to assume everyone aboard those carriers is HYDRA." Fury admits, sitting back against the chair. "We need to get pass them, insert the server blades, and maybe, just maybe, we can salvage what's left…"
"We're not salvaging anything." Steve buts in. "We're not just taking down the carriers, Nick, we're taking down SHIELD."
"SHIELD had nothing to do with it." Fury argues, sounding almost defensive.
"You gave me this mission, this is how it ends." Steve replies, his voice firm, showing no room for debate. "SHIELD's been compromised, you said so yourself. HYDRA grew right under your nose and nobody noticed."
"Why do you think we're meeting in this cave?" Fury remarks, his eye not moving from where Steve stands. "I noticed."
"And how many paid the price before you did?" Steve's firmness sounding slightly disheartened, remember the man on the bridge.
"Look, I didn't know about Barnes." Fury tells him, gripping his hand tightly.
"Even if you have, would you have told me? Or would you have compartmentalised that too? SHIELD, HYDRA, it all goes." Steve places his hand on the table, leaning forward.
"He's right." Hill says softly.
Fury looks at Natasha, then Sasha and finally Sam. "Don't look at me." The man says quickly. "I do what he does, just slower."
"Well…" Fury sighs. "Looks like you're giving the orders now, Captain."
Steve then leaves the room, going outside. Natasha looks over at Sasha and before the woman could do anything, Natasha quickly goes over to her and takes her into a different room, pushing her against the wall. She eyes her, looking at her slightly ruffled suit and the small bits of dust sitting in her hair. "Who are you?" Natasha asked her firmly, gripping the collar of her suit jacket, her eyes firm and menacing.
"Sasha Flieman." She answers, her voice still holding the slightly fake Russian accent. Natasha notices a hint of an African accent being hidden, but she doesn't say anything about it.
She looks her up and down, a hint of recognition in her eyes and she pushes her against the wall tighter. Sasha's arm tightens its grip on her forearm, trying to force her to drop her back onto the ground, her legs pushing against the wall. Natasha follows her movements, and she can tell that she is definitely holding back. "No it's not." Natasha replies accusingly. "I remember you. Do you remember me?"
Sasha looks her in the eyes with genuine confusion, her eyes looking at her, her eyebrows scrunched together in thought. "I…" Her voice trails off before she softly shakes her head, her hands dropping down to her sides instead of gripping onto Natasha's arm, her mind too jumbled to fight against her. "Autumn?" She says softly, her body not fully believing it. Her hand reaches out, stroking the red hair in her fingers, a tiny smile on her face as the smallest of memories is knitted back together.
Natasha nods slightly and she looks at her in betrayal. "You're a Winter Soldier, you have the programming. You pushed Sitwell out into traffic. You weren't helping Sam, you were attacking because that was your mission, wasn't it?!" She sounded angry that she hadn't figured it out earlier. She punched her in the face. "Sitwell said Pierce would kill him. Pierce appointed you to help Sitwell with his work, which on paper made sense. Your job was to make sure he didn't give out information, wasn't it?"
Sasha looks away but doesn't reply. "No one will believe you, not without evidence and you won't find it." She chuckles slightly before quickly exiting the room, going outside.
The sky is light blue, the horizon dotted with hills that mingle into buildings far out. Steve walks out onto the bridge over the water and places his hands against the fence, leaning forward with his eyes closed slightly in thought. The sound slowly dies away, and he remembers just after his mother's funeral.
— — — — —
Bucky is standing in his vision wearing a smart black suit and slicked back and short hair, his body in repstine condition. "We looked for you after." He admits, his voice kind and friendly, his voice softly spoken. "My folks wanted to give you a ride to the cemetery." He gives him a friendly smile as they walk up the crickety wooden steps of Steve's apartment.
"I know, I'm sorry." Steve sighs, feeling slightly guilty. He's wearing a slightly oversized and sun-died greying suit. His hair is unkempt and his body small, thin and sickly. "I just...kind of wanted to be alone."
Bucky looks over at him. "How was it?" He asks, his hands hanging by his side.
"It was okay." Steve answers. "She's next to Dad."
"I was gonna ask…" Bucky tries to say.
"I know what you're gonna say, Buck, I just…" Steve cuts him off, sighing, looking away, his hands in his pocket.
"We can put the couch cushions on the floor like when we were kids." Bucky suggested, walking over to the door of the apartment. "It'll be fun. All you gotta do is shine my shoes, maybe take out the trash." He looks over at the sickly man as he attempts to find his keys in his ratty pockets. Bucky gives a grin before kicking over a rock, and picking up the key that had been smartly hidden underneath it. He walks over and puts it in Steve's hand. "Come on."
"Thank you, Buck, but I can get by on my own." Steve answers.
"The thing is, you don't have to." Bucky reassures, smiling at him. He walks up and gives Steve ja friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm with you to the end of the line, pal."
— — — — —
"He's gonna be there, you know?" Sam queries, drawing Steve's mind back to the present, making sure, a hint of concern in his voice.
"I know." Steve says softly, his hands stuck in his pockets as he continues to look out over the bridge.
"Look, whoever he used to be, the guy he is now, I don't think he's the kind you save." Sam informs him softly, trying not to upset Steve anymore than he believes he already is. He sighs, looking over the bridge at the water. "He's the kind you stop."
"I don't know if I can do that." Steve admits solemnly.
"Well, he might not give you a choice." Sam replies.
Sasha walks over to the ground, some bandages peeking out from the collar of her shirt. "He doesn't know you." She tells Steve, having overheard the conversation. The other two glance at her, slightly confused at the wording, at the such certainty.
"He will." Steve argues and Sasha glances at him, a fever smirk on her face. "Gear up, it's time." Steve turns and starts to walk off.
"You gonna wear that?" Sam asks and the blond man turns around to face him again.
"No." Steve answers, before looking back at Sam. If you're gonna fight a war, you gotta wear a uniform." He walks away, making his way to the Smithsonian Museum. He looks over at the Captain America exhibit, at all the dummies standing in a semicircle wearing the uniform from the 1940s. Steve looks at his old uniform. He debates it in his head, deciding if he should wear his newer and more protective gear, or to wear the old one. After a bit of decision making, he takes the old one, hoping that it would be enough to help Bucky remember him.
The guard sighs, looking shocked at the dummy. "Oh, man. I am so fired!" He says, shaking his head ever so slightly, looking away from the dummy, walking away quickly in order to not be noticed as having seen the current situation.