Thanks to Sharon's tip, she allowed the three of us a head start to Bucharest.

We agreed to do this the calm way, without anyone having to raise their fists to fight. I certainly wasn't in the mood to fight Bucky; the guy had kicked my ass as the Winter Soldier. I doubted that just because he had his wits about him again didn't make his body lose the muscle memory.

Steve and I suited up, as though we hadn't just attended Peggy Carter's funeral. We investigated a small, dingy apartment. Sam was our eyes from above. We weren't quite sure how much time we had on local authorities, or any that wanted to turn Bucky in, so we were on a time crunch.

"This is...sad," I commented quietly. I didn't mean it in an insulting way at all; I really felt bad for Steve's best friend. The place was small enough to fit just him, and it had remnants of him in it. A mattress with disheveled covers. Cheap furniture. The kitchen and bedroom were the same room.

Steve grabbed something off the top of the fridge—a notebook. Various colorful tabs stuck out from the pages as he opened and read.

"Dare I ask what's inside?" I asked.

"Heads up, you guys. German Special Forces, approaching from the south," came Sam's warning over comms.

"Understood." Steve exchanged a side eye with me. We turned slowly in unison.

Bucky just made it so much easier to find him and apprehend him.

"You know me?"

The stare he gave my husband was a bit unsettling. "You're Steve. I read about you in a museum." His blue eyes fell to me next. "You're Kiara Rivers. We...we trained together. Fought together."

"Briefly," I said. And you weren't you. You were warped by evil people. I really hoped those hadn't travelled to his mind; it was the last thing I wanted to remind him of.

"They've set the perimeter," said Sam.

"I know you're nervous," Steve told Bucky. "And you have plenty of reason to be. But you're lying."

"I wasn't in Vienna," said Bucky. "I don't do that anymore."

Somehow I believed him. The man before us was no Winter Soldier. The Winter Soldier had been a man of few words, and his eyes were cold. Bucky Barnes was not that mind-controlled killer that Hydra conditioned.

"They're entering the building."

"Well, the people who think you did are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive."

"That's smart. Good strategy."

But if you didn't do this, then how was your face there on the news, on the cameras?

"They're on the roof. I'm compromised."

"This doesn't have to end in a fight, Buck," said Steve.

"It always ends in a fight."

"Five seconds."

"Yes, Sam, thank you!" I said, exasperated. "As if we don't already know the bloody police are at the freaking door!"

"Someone doesn't do well under pressure."

"You pulled me from the river," Steve told Bucky. "Why?"

"I don't know."

"Three seconds!"

"Yes, you do."

"Breach! Breach! Breach!"

Glass shattered as a grenade broke through, entering the apartment. Bucky kicked it to Steve, who smothered it with his shield. My head turned to the door; the police were trying to break in. Fire lit from my hands. The plan was to get away, to not let them take Bucky. I didn't plan to fry anyone or give them severe burns, but if it had to be done...

I ducked on instinct at the sound of gunshots. Police were hitting against the door. Bucky used a mattress to protect himself from the bullets flying in from the window. He then knocked a table into the door in the hopes it'd buy us some time.

Police swooped in through the window, tethered to cables. With Steve, we ripped the rug out from under one of them. Bucky sent another police officer into the wall.

"Buck, stop!" Steve said. "You're gonna kill someone."

Bucky grabbed Steve, slamming him down as well as his fist. "I'm not gonna kill anyone." The former Hydra assassin pulled a backpack from the hole in the floor, giving it a good chuck out from the broken window. I conjured a fire shield just as the two men pulled themselves behind Steve's shield. Thank goodness my fire could stop the bullets from going further.

My concentration was lost as something knocked into my shoulder—Steve and his shield. As I caught Steve, Bucky repelled bullets with his metal hand before proceeding to slam a cop into the shelves closest to him. I cringed as he hurled a large cement brick at yet another officer. I heard Steve battling more somewhere nearby—I believed on the balcony.

If Steve can't protect you, I will. I ducked at the sound of bullets fired at the door. Bucky punched through the nearest wall, supposedly taking out the person on the other side. The door broke open as Bucky squeezed his way out.

It was absolute chaos once Bucky was able to get out of the apartment door. Oftentimes I tried to get out only to get pushed back in, mostly due to bodies being shoved my way. Glass crashed above as an officer came in through the window above in the stairwell. Though the officer was mid-swing, it didn't mean Bucky couldn't hit him.

While the one hung in midair, Bucky grabbed something off the ground, smacking officers with it. More continued to scurry up the steps, a line of black attire. I extinguished my fire, afraid of the damage I could cause in the building. We were in tight quarters, I didn't have the space to go flinging fireballs without causing an accident.

Bucky grabbed onto the officer who was hung by rope, using him to swing down to a lower level of the stairwell. I shook my head as he continued to fight incoming enemies. I kept my eyes firm on the action below, aiming my palm at anything in black armor. Don't set Bucky on fire. He won't appreciate it, and neither will Steve.

I took careful steps towards Bucky. Above, Steve had finally gotten out of the apartment. I backed to the wall, watching as my husband flung himself down to a lower flight, to catch up to his best friend. When you get a broken leg, Steve Rogers, I don't want to hear it. Being a super soldier doesn't exempt you from breaking bones!

I kept eyes on Bucky, who was trying to fling police over the rails. Steve, in turn, was trying to stop them from taking the long fall.

Rather than doing a long jump, Bucky had broken and bent the rail in order to lower himself further, colliding with an officer upon landing. I hesitated briefly before jumping to get to his level. If I hadn't been able to save myself with flying, I would've had a lot of broken bones. Or been dead.

Steve intervened, chucking his shield. But apparently Bucky wasn't in the mood to work with a team. He leapt over a railing, heading straight down. Until he got himself caught on another railing.

We're trying to help you, damn it, I snarled to Bucky. Let us!

I lowered myself down with my fire as Bucky pulled himself to the current staircase level. He then charged through the open door, out towards a window. I ran after him, just as he crashed through the window, catapulting over the building itself.

I took to the skies, noticing his rather smooth landing on a nearby building. Bucky grabbed his discarded pack from earlier, hoofing it. Until a quick figure clad in black tackled him from out of nowhere.

I landed on the building, feet behind Bucky. The person who had stopped him was no police officer. None were equipped with a black suit that took a cat's form. His mask didn't allow me to get a better picture of his identity.

Hey, Steve, when you get a moment...you need to catch up. Someone new just entered the game, and they may be a bigger problem than the police. I launched into the sky, overshooting my mark as the man in the cat suit attacked Bucky.

I landed behind their fight, watching as the man's fingers extended into sharp claws. I threw cautious fireballs near the pair, not willing to risk setting either on fire.

"Sam," came Steve's voice over comms, "southwest rooftop."

"Who the hell's the other guy?"

"About to find out."

I watched as Steve launched himself onto our building. Close by, a chopper was in the air, either capturing this footage or prepping to drop more officers down on us.

I moved out of the way, watching as Bucky dropped from sight, the man in the cat suit following. I took to the skies, looking for the two individuals as they maneuvered down from the building. In the distance, Steve was playing catch up on the two.

I threw a warning fireball at the chopper as it rained bullets upon those involved in the chase below. They were happy to not leave me out, showering a few bullets my way. They had crap aim up in the sky.

Once I lost sight of all three—Steve, Bucky, and the man in the cat suit—I dived...

And nearly got hit by oncoming traffic. Cars honked, people swore and swerved so they wouldn't flatten me to the pavement. The three ahead of me were running through traffic, as though they expected the cars to take evasive maneuvers around them. I lifted myself off the pavement, but didn't have a lot of room above to work with. Huffing, I raced after them, my fire fueling my speed.

I stopped short amidst watching Steve pull someone out of a police vehicle, its lights very active.

"You could just ask me for a ride," I teased as he got in. "I'm probably the better bet."

"Get in."

Without question, I hopped into the passenger's side. I sighed, seeing the windshield was cracked. No doubt Steve's way of getting the vehicle to stop so he could take it over. Well, there was no easy way to do it on this highway.

"Steve!" I gasped as he punched out the windshield, abandoning it completely. I sunk back into the seat as he gunned the accelerator.

Through the throng of passing cars, I could see Bucky and his pursuer. We matched his pursuer's speed, Bucky still had quite the gap on us. I looked in my mirror to see the man in the cat suit had attached himself to the back of our vehicle. Steve began to swerve, in hopes of losing our hitchhiker.

He had an iron grip thanks to his suit.

"Sam, I can't shake this guy," said Steve.

"If I aim it right, I could probably shoot him off," I said.

"Last resort, hot hands. Right behind you," said Sam. "Just...give me a head's up if you do plan to start a fire."

Police lights and sirens had gotten awfully close to us. I held onto the car in any way that I could as Steve rammed into the closest police vehicle.

"Uh-oh," I whispered. Police cars were up ahead.

Bucky leapt over some barrels, crossing to the other side. I nearly became one with my door as Steve jerked us to the other side of the highway, crashing into the barrels in the process.

Oh, you've got to be bloody joking! Bucky had found himself a ride, on a motorcycle. Or, rather, he'd taken it when someone was mid-ride, did a rather fancy maneuver to get himself onto the bike itself, before speeding away.

Looking in the mirrors, the police reinforcements had stopped pursuing when we had crossed into the other side of the highway. Traffic thinned out some in this area, but it didn't feel any less dangerous.

"You know," I said breathlessly as Steve continued to drive at breakneck speed to catch his friend, "I miss Hawaii a lot right now. At least there we weren't part of a high speed chase!"

A loud thud above made Steve and I look upwards. The man in the cat suit jumped onto our hood, using that as a launch pad to throw himself towards Bucky. There was no way I could've grabbed him in time. This is such a mess.

Bucky quickly lost his pursuer off his bike, we swerved to avoid him. Steve glanced in his rearview mirror, I mirrored him.

Sam had entered the game, and now the cat-suited man was using him as transportation. They blew right past us.

"Crap!" I exclaimed, as part of the ceiling above began to crumble into debris and dust. Sam launched his deadweight off, ahead of him.

"Get ready to get out!" Steve warned me. He skidded the car on its side, before dashing out of the driver's seat. I had a little harder time getting out, but got off the ground, maneuvering through falling debris. I flew over Steve's head, turning to watch in horror as our car tumbled over and over towards him, Bucky—who was off the bike now, and the man in the cat suit.

Steve barreled straight for the cat suited man, taking him out by the waist. I landed beside Bucky, standing beside Steve. My hands lit with fresh fire.

Behind the cat suited man, police reinforcements had arrived by the car loads. Above, the whirring of a chopper was heard. End of the road. What do we do?

Steady, Kiara.

Steve.

I jumped back a step as familiar War Machine armor made a dramatic landing in our tense situation. He raised both hands, one towards our trio and the other towards the man in the cat suit.

"Stand down, now," he insisted.

Rhodey's backup was armed to the teeth, all weapons pointed and ready to shoot. Steve put his shield on his back.

Steve.

Dowse the flames, Kiara. This is where it ends. For emphasis, Steve raised his hands in surrender.

"Congratulations, Cap. You're a criminal."

Officers moved in, wrenching Bucky to the ground. The man in the cat suit raised his arms as well.

"Touch him and I will burn you," I threatened the nearest officer who got near Steve.

"Kiara, knock it off," he insisted.

My body was ready for another fight. I was ready for another fight. This couldn't be how it ended. There were pieces we were missing. I believed Bucky when he said that he hadn't set off that bomb at the signing of the Accords. Someone was framing him.

I doubted we were going to find out why.

The claws retracted in the cat man's suit. He then removed his mask. I wasn't familiar with his face.

"Your highness," Rhodey said to the man without the mask.

"Can you be a little nicer?" I snapped to the police who had Bucky flat on the ground.

"Kiara," Steve whispered.

"We stopped fighting, there's no need for excessive force."

"Please. It's over."

Though I allowed my arms to go behind my back, the anger didn't subside. It wasn't going to anytime soon.