It wasn't hard to find Steve, I knew he'd want to be able to keep an eye on Bucky.

Sharon and Sam were with Steve when I got there. I kept an eye on one of the screens. Bucky was still restrained in his pod, but someone was with him now.

"I'm not here to judge you," came a voice from the screen. "I just want to ask you a few questions. Do you know where you are, James?"

I didn't expect Bucky to want to open up to this stranger. Truthfully, I wouldn't either. Or I'd have some really bad words for him.

"I can't help you if you don't talk to me, James."

"My name is Bucky."

"I'm surprised they allow audio in here," I said.

"They don't," said Sharon.

Steve ventured over to a picture, examining it. I joined him. Though it was blurry, there would be enough evidence to point to Bucky.

"Why would the Task Force release this photo to begin with?" he questioned.

"Get the word out, involve as many eyes as we can?" asked Sharon.

"Right. It's a good way to flush a guy out of hiding. Set off a bomb, get your picture taken. Get seven billion people looking for the Winter Soldier."

"You're saying someone framed him to find him."

"Steve," said Sam, "we looked for the guy for two years and found nothing."

"We didn't bomb the UN," said Steve. "That turns a lot of heads."

"Yeah, but that doesn't guarantee that whoever framed him would get him," said Sharon. "It guarantees that we would."

"Yeah."

"Tell me, Bucky," continued the voice from one of the screens. "You've seen a great deal, haven't you?"

"I don't want to talk about it."

"You fear that...if you open your mouth, the horrors might never stop. Don't worry. We only have to talk about one."

The bunker suddenly fell dark. I lit a small fire to use as light.

"Sub-level five, east wing," Sharon ordered. Sam and Steve bolted, with me right behind.

By the time we reached the chamber, red lights flashed all around. Agents were slumped to the floor.

"Well, this doesn't look damaging at all," I said.

"Help me," said a voice. "Help."

Steve and I ventured inside of the chamber. In a heap, there was a man on the floor. The one who had been with Bucky before things went to hell.

"Get up," Steve said, hauling the man to his feet. He shoved the man into the wall. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"To see an empire fall."

At a noise, I fled the chamber. I jumped back at the last second as Sam came flying through the air. He landed just outside of the pod.

Crap. Gone was Bucky. Though not in Winter Soldier garb, we were certainly seeing the Soldier now. He engaged Steve first in close combat, taking their fight out of the chamber. I ran after them, watching as Bucky—the Winter Soldier—pinned Steve to elevator doors. His metal arm gave a serious dent as he tried to land one on Steve.

Crap. With a serious shove, Steve broke through the elevator doors, falling down the shaft. I got behind Bucky, launching myself onto him. Hands and fingers tried to rip me off. I kept my legs around his so that if anything I could slow him down.

The metal fist hit one of my legs, forcing me to loosen my grip. When a hand got into my hair, my head was jerked sideways, in turning sending us both reeling in a direction. As we both were sent to the floor, the impact dislodged me from Bucky.

He was quick to get up and send me a nice kick to the face when I tried to grab one of his legs.

Disoriented, I staggered to my feet. I fumbled for the blades—but then I remembered our suits, our gear, were stripped of us when we were arrested. Okay, then I guess we're doing things a little differently.

I ran after Bucky, careful to not engage him right away. Little flames danced on my hands as I tried to get something going. Maybe if I knocked him hard enough, he could revert back to Bucky Barnes. I mean, if words could get to him...maybe something a little harsher could get through better.

Damn it. Ahead, out in some sort of open area—I wanted to say a lunch area—officers were trying to (failing miserably, I might add) take down Bucky. He beat up on them as though they were complete beginners in close combat.

Firefly, hey. On your right.

Casting a glance, hidden by a pillar, was Tony. I watched him press a few buttons on—I wanted to say a watch, but I was too far away. Tech covered his hand, making an on-the-spot Iron Man glove.

I cringed away as Tony blasted Bucky with some sort of sound wave. It temporarily dazed him, allowing Tony to move in. Tony flashed a light, making Bucky cover his eyes briefly. Tony closed the gap between the two, and when Bucky tried to shoot at Tony, the bullet caught his tech hand.

Tony was sent flying into some nearby chairs with a hard hit from Bucky. But before I could even get close to him, Sharon and Natasha leapt into the picture, out of nowhere. I hung back, allowing Sharon to get her few strikes in before being moved away. I jumped in behind her, exchanging blows with Bucky. Our arms locked together, I felt my feet slip backwards.

"Whoever did this to you, fight it," I hissed. I kicked at his legs, he didn't even flinch. "What the hell are your thighs made of?"

I briefly saw stars as Bucky crashed his head against mine. I reeled away, tumbling into some chairs. Through dazed vision, Sharon tried her luck again with Bucky—only to be crashed into a table close by.

A mane of red hair—Natasha—took her turn with Bucky. I could only pause in-awe, watching her singlehandedly try to take him down.

Does everyone know where he is?! As Natasha was pinned on top of a table, T'Challa came barreling in, kicking Bucky away from Nat. The two exchanged blows before Bucky landing a hard one on T'Challa, sending the Wakandan to the floor. I ran after Bucky, who ascended some steps before disappearing from the room.

T'Challa, having caught a second breath, leapt from a slightly higher level, to put himself in front of Bucky. I kept my distance as the two once again fought in close combat. Bucky was sent through a gap between the railing and the wall, and I immediately pushed past T'Challa, lowering myself down.

Bucky was taking off just as I landed. Luckily, I was able to keep up with him.

He led me outside to a launch pad, where a helicopter was ready to be stolen. Oh, no, you're not. I leapt, forcing myself into his back. We hit the ground, and I tried to restrain him by his arms. The back of his head was sent flying into my face, and I rolled off him. I found myself on my back, feeling liquid trail down my nose.

As I sat up, red came away on my fingers. If you've broken it...

Wind started to kick up nearby as the helicopter started to take off.

One of the doors to the launch paid burst open, and a dirty Steve Rogers in a gray t-shirt watched as his best friend tried to take off. He took off almost at superhuman speed, leaping, grabbing the lowest part of the helicopter that he could.

As I got to my feet, Steve's feet skidded across the way, but his fingers would not let go. Just as the helicopter was close to taking off, he secured himself to one of the railings. One arm had the railing, the other the helicopter.

Any normal human being's arms would've been dislocated or even torn apart had they attempted to do this. The muscles in Steve's arms strained, and he made a loud cry of pain.

I trotted, launching a rope of fire to secure itself around the bottom of the helicopter. The last thing I needed was Steve carried off because he bit off more than he could chew.

My fire rope disappeared as I leapt away. Bucky turned the helicopter inwards, towards the landing pad. I watched in horror as the blades tore up the concrete, kicking up dust and debris.

The helicopter finally came to a stop, on its side, damaged.

When the metal hand broke through the windshield and had Steve by the throat, I ran for the two. The machine started to lean towards the edge...

Even if I had been able to get my hands on the helicopter, I wouldn't have been able to pull it back up.

It was almost like watching Steve fall through the Helicarrier all over again.

I ran to the edge, seeing the aftermath of their splash into the water below. I let out a breath when the two surfaced. Squinting, it looked like Bucky had fallen unconscious. The irony was not lost on me with this picture.

You are perhaps the most reckless idiot I've ever known, Steve Rogers.

Gee, I love you too, honey, came Steve's tired reply. Just remember, you married me.

Yes, yes I did. And I don't regret it.

We need to get him out of the public eye, somewhere no one would come looking. And we better make it fast, he'll have a lot of people looking to put handcuffs on him. Or bullets in him.