WASHINGTON D.C.
2014

JUNE found him standing alone on a bridge just
outside of the facility, hands shoved deep in his pockets, his stare fixated unwaveringly upon the quiet scenery before him. A creek gurgled softly below, a verdant forest swayed beneath a yellow sky, rustled by a caressing wind warmed by the waning afternoon.

"Tell me more about Barnes," she prompted Steve gently, stepping beside him and leaning against the rusted railing. "I only know him professionally as someone who wants to kill me."

Steve was silent, still and unsmiling as his eyes continued to survey the horizon. At last, he sighed heavily, gaze downcast and eyebrows creased. He joined her at the railing.

"His name was James," Steve said quietly. "James Buchanan Barnes. But everyone called him Bucky. Everyone loved him. He was a good man. He's not what he's done. That's not him."

"How long have you known him?"

Steve cracked half a smile. "Technically? A hundred years . . ." the smile faded. "Since we were kids. I always had him to turn to when I needed someone. I was on my own by the time I was eighteen."

June nodded in understanding, listening dutifully. She had a feeling Steve had never told anyone what he was telling her then.

"You said they tortured him," Steve added darkly, his voice deep and troubled. "What did they do?"

June bit her lip uncomfortably. It was unpleasant to recall. "I'm not . . . sure. We were kept on the same base only once—I saw him only once," she became fascinated with her hands, wringing her fingers anxiously, because remembering her days of being beaten half to death and then left in a vermin-infested cell to bleed until morning was a painful thing indeed.

"From what I could gather . . . they did things to his . . . to his mind. They made him . . .  cold. A shell of a human being. Murderous, invincible," she began to trail off, thinking of those agonized blue eyes, ". . . but powerless," she went quiet for a moment. "I think he may have recognized me. He spoke to me."

Something flashed over Steve's face, like pain but something else besides. Jealousy. "How could he have known you and not me?"

Now that, June could not answer.

"He doesn't know me, Steve," she insisted feverishly. "But I don't believe he doesn't know you."

June felt her expression furrow into a scowl. Something erupted in her core, something chilling and sharp and uncomfortable. Pity. She pitied the Winter Soldier inexplicably, for reasons she could not understand. She still felt the throbbing pain in her waist where his knife had dug into her ribcage, still saw those sparking dead eyes staring at her from across the highway. But the empathy was there, whether he deserved it or not.

"When Bucky fell," Steve said, also gazing down at his knuckles, "I thought I lost everything. And now that he's alive, I should be happy," he winced. "But now I think he'd be better off dead."

June shook her head at once. "No, you don't. It's not too late. You can still save him."

A third voice broke in. "The problem with that is," Sam drawled, "I don't think he's the kind of guy you save. He's the kind you stop."

Steve did not lift his eyes as the Falcon approached them from the same way June had before. "I don't think I could do that," he mumbled softly.

"He might not give you a choice," Sam continued sympathetically. "He doesn't know you."

Steve straightened suddenly, removing his fists from his pockets, turning sharply and marching across the bridge, away from the facility and away from June and Sam.

"He will," Steve insisted as he strode. "Gear up. It's time."

"You gonna wear that?" Sam scoffed after him, exchanging a glance with June.

"No," Steve replied a matter-of-factly. "If you're gonna fight a war, you've got to wear a uniform."

And within moments, Captain America was out of sight.

• • •

"NOT that I don't think you can handle yourself on your own," Natasha began smoothly, leading June into a hastily put together, poorly lit armory deep within the headquarters, "but if you're going up against Barnes again, you'll need more than just your fists."

"I think I had him on the ropes last time," June said ironically. She folded her arms, the damp chill of the compound making her miss her jacket. Instead, June was clad in a combative catsuit similar to Natasha's signature attire—in fact, it had been thanks to the graces of the Black Widow that June sported the bodysuit. The tough, black material stretched over her arms, legs, torso, hugging close to her body, yet still allowed fluid and agile movement. 

"I wouldn't doubt it," Nat replied absently as she pulled open a storage locker that reached almost to the ceiling, revealing a dozen intricately crafted weapons, many of which June could not place the names for. "But there's no harm in improvement."

Eyeing Natasha with careful amusement, June surveyed the shelves of firearms, ammunition cartridges, daggers, batons—she even noticed a trio of bows mounted on the far wall, above rows of sleek arrows that could take a target out in the black of night without a sound. Natasha continued to sift through various weapons, very apparently searching for something specific. June waited curiously, craning her neck to try and peer over Nat's shoulder.

Finally, Natasha found what she was hunting for. She spun around, holding up twin twelve-inch daggers, their metal blades reflecting what little light there was in the room. June lifted her eyebrows, agog and inquisitive.

"You think I should use those?" she asked, stepping forward, almost involuntarily. Natasha nodded, cat eyes flashing.

"Yes. You know how, don't you?"

"Yeah," June assured her. "I mean, I'm more accustom to Glocks, but I can adapt."

Natasha passed the knives to June, considering her fondly. "Good. Keep your pistols, but take these. Back on Virginia Avenue you fought Barnes primarily hand-to-hand, right? He's got the size and strength advantage. Guns won't get you very far."

"I know," June nodded, rolling the blades through her fingers. She moved past Natasha, making for the locker. Her green eyes fell upon a pair of wrist sheaths, and she took them up gingerly.

"Can I use these, too?"

Natasha shrugged. "I don't care."

With a satisfied grin, June slipped a gloved hand through each gauntlet, and sheathed the daggers. She returned her gaze to Natasha.

"Ready to jump off some bridges?"

Nat tilted her head towards June. "It would be rude to refuse."

• • •

"HOW do you plan on getting onto the carriers?" June asked Steve quietly as they crept along a deserted hallway, headed for the central tech room of the S.H.I.E.L.D. D.C. headquarters. Sam and Maria moved alongside them, the latter poised with her handgun and Sam with an assault rifle. They halted just outside the entryway.

"I plan on crossing that bridge when I get there," Steve replied. "But right now I need you to do your thing."

June tossed him a sideways look before pulling a slim device from her belt. Her fingers flew across its screen, pressing in a series of complicated codes that only Maria could keep up with as she watched from over June's shoulder.

"Alright," she tapped in a last digit. "I hijacked their dish," June tipped her head towards the door. "You'll want to get ready."

Steve obeyed, stepping directly before the door, flanked by Sam and Maria brandishing their firearms. June thrust out her arms and her dual blades shot from their sheaths and into her palms. Her gloved fingers clutched their hilts tightly, her kaleidoscope eyes sharpening as the door opened suddenly, and the four of them were met with a very alarmed com tech, who, upon realizing that he was facing down Captain America, took several panicked steps back.

Steve regarded the tech calmly. "S'cuse us."

The man nodded quickly, lifting his hands above his head and jumping out of the team's way.

• • •

"STEVE, whatever you're planning on doing," Hill began sincerely as she and June finished detaining the last of the techs, "you need to do it now."

"Don't worry," Steve halted in front of the main console. "This won't take long."

June watched wordlessly as he leaned towards a microphone that she assumed was connected to the PA of the entire headquarters. She stepped beside Sam, who was also listening intently. The air was tangible with eagerness to know what Steve was aiming to do.

He pressed a finger down on the mic's base; it hummed lowly with feedback. "Attention all Shield agents," he said firmly, calmly, with full confidence that his voice had stopped everyone on the property in their tracks. "this is Steve Rogers. You've heard a lot about me over the last few days—some of you were even ordered to hunt me down. But I think it's time you heard the truth," he paused, lifting his eyes for a moment as if considering his next words. He drew in a deep breath.

"Shield is not what we thought it was. It's been taken over by Hydra. Alexander Pierce is their leader. The Strike and Insight crew are Hydra as well. I don't know how many more, but I know they're in the building . . . they could be standing right next to you. They almost have what they want: absolute control. They shot Nick Fury . . . . And it won't end there. If you launch those helicarriers today, Hydra will be able to kill anyone that stands in their way. Unless we stop them. I know I'm asking a lot . . . but the price of freedom is high. It always has been. And it's a price I'm willing to pay. And if I'm the only one, then so be it," the corner of his mouth twitched ever so slightly. "But I'm willing to bet I'm not."

As the last octave of his voice faded, the room went silent. The world went silent. The first to move was Maria, who had taken a place at the control panel. With her sharp eyes downcast, she began to tamper with the trio of three-dimensional screens that were spread atop the table. Sam stepped forward with impressment apparent on his reckless face.

"Did you write that down first?" he teased. "Or was it off the top of your head?"

Steve shrugged. "Might've thought it over a couple of times."

"We can talk about Steve's theatrical ambitions later—that is, if we survive this," June quipped impatiently. "We've got a job to do."

"Right," Steve agreed quickly, the humor swiftly fleeing from his face. "Hill, stay here and wait for my signal. Sam, June, come with me. We need to get onto one of those carriers, and fast."

Suddenly, a great shudder shook the building, rattled June's teeth, continued to quake the earth as the seconds dragged by and Maria suddenly paled, for something was flashing on the control panel.

"They're initiating launch," she murmured. "Go. Go!"

Spurred by the urgency in her voice, the three leapt into action, and had dashed out the door before any more time could be wasted.

• • •

THEY bounded out onto the launch pads with little idea what they would be up against. June's blades were held tightly in her palms, the anticipation of a fight coursing through her blood, a mixture of dread and adrenaline. Half-blinded by the sun, she sprinted alongside Steve with the wind tossing her hair wildly and infuriated shouts rising around her.

"Hey, Cap!" Sam bellowed above the chaos. "How do we know the good guys from the bad guys?"

"If they're shooting at you, they're bad!"

Graced with this new information, Sam kicked off from the ground, his wings unfolding and spanning out behind him, and soared into the air. He stuck close by, for the next moment June and Steve reached the edge of the launch pad, the first helicarrier rumbling a hundred and fifty feet below, preparing for liftoff. Steve leaped over the ledge without second thought, collapsing into a graceful roll as he touched down on the carrier and springing to his feet without a scratch to show for it. Yet because June lacked both the physical capability to survive such a fall and the desire to follow Steve's display, Sam swooped down and snatched her hand firmly in his own as soon as she jumped from the launch pad. Her stomach flipped and the air was jolted from her lungs as Sam glided her smoothly back to Steve's side, and into the middle of a firefight.

Bullets rang out in all directions, cries of pain and frantic commands crowded the air, the whine of Sam's flight suit shrieked overhead. June ducked behind a shipping container as a volley of bullets arced her way, before coming face-to-face with a helmeted Hydra accomplice brandishing a thick-barreled assault rifle. Before he could flick the trigger, June kicked him in the chest, twisting around and using the hilt of one of her knives to strike a damaging blow to his temple. A glinting tongue of silver found its place in the man's stomach, and June moved on, her blade dripping with its first taste of spilled blood. Her murderous movements were executed with the grace of a ballet.

A second agent charged at her. June kicked off of an ammunition unit and grabbed the man's shoulder, using the momentum of her leap to launch herself behind his head, legs strangling his neck as her collapsing weight swung them both downward, the man vaulting over her as they tumbled to the ground. He laid motionless. Breathless, June rolled to her feet, and in somewhat of a daze, she shot towards a particularly chaotic cluster of fighting that she had a suspicion Steve was in the midst of.

"Hey!" she cried once she was within earshot. Steve struck down one last attacker before turning to her voice. "I couldn't get to the hangar bay—is Alpha locked?"

"Yes!" he shouted back. "And Sam's engaged with Bravo. One more to go."

June nodded, raking hair away from her eyes and lips as she looked up to the sky, gaze hunting for the glint of Sam's wings. The blue atmosphere that surrounded them was spotted and blemished with plumes of smoke, the air tainted by the smell of combusted engines and filled with the shrieks of launching missiles. The third and final helicarrier was hundreds of fet above their position.

"Remember that bridge you were planning on crossing?" June quipped. "I think now is the time."

"Uh," Steve frowned. "I was kind of hoping you'd have an idea on how we do that."

"Do you think Sam's suit could carry the both of us?"

"There's only one way to find out—" Steve was interrupted by a sudden roar of gunfire, and instinctively he brought up his shield over the both of them, just before a wave of bullets collided against its smooth exterior. June pulled out her own handgun and fired back ruthlessly, her shots hitting and disabling the pair of agents that had unintelligently provoked them.

"Hey, Sam," Steve spoke urgently into the comm within the cuff of his glove, "we're gonna need a ride."

"I'm not sure if I can take you both at the same time," Sam's response was staggered with static, "but let me know when you're ready."

Steve looked to June at once. "You go up first. Clear the platform. I'll be right behind you."

June nodded briskly, determinedly. "Got it," she lifted her wrist to her lips and said into her own comm, "Sam, can you make two trips?"

"Yeah, who's up first?"

"Me. I'm at the far south wing, your ten o' clock."

"On my way."

Within moments, the growl of the turbines upon Sam's back and the hiss of his wings tearing through the air grew closer and closer, until June could feel the wind swirling about her at his approach. She stuck a ready arm into the air.

"Good luck," Steve offered.

"Thanks, Cap."

She smiled softly, and the next instant Sam soared lithely into reach, his hand clasping hers within an iron grip. His thrusters kick-started, and they burst through the air, a silver-and-black blur. Like a bullet they shot for the last helicarrier, and June felt her stomach and her heart and every organ in her body simultaneously throw themselves into her throat, a pang of sickening emptiness flooding her core, the disequilibrium and nausea forcing her to shut her eyes tightly, push her lips tautly together lest the contents of her gut upheave themselves. They gained altitude with every second, the wind throwing June's hair, plastering it over her face. And then, just as quickly as it had before, her center of gravity swayed drastically, and when June's eyes opened, her feet were planted shakily upon the third carrier.

And come the next blink of an eye, the Winter Soldier charged into view, and lunged at her.

• • •

guys I'm on fire with these
updates holy hell
soooo fair warning, we're approaching the end of this part, and lemme just say, part two is going to rip you apart. lol kisses x