TEN.
❝ one people ❞

THE FINAL BATTLE HAS BEGUN.

Svetlana knows it the moment she stands outside the GRC Meeting Hall, on a cluttered street full of police cars, panicked people, and wailing sirens. The building is on complete lockdown, and while the NYPD has the area secured for the moment, they all know it won't last for long.

Her family came when Sam called, and now Svet is just waiting for the bloodshed to start.

Moving through the cops and civilians alike, Natasha and Svet walk at Bucky's side when he asks over their shared commlink, "What's the plan?"

"Karli's gotta be close." On his way, Sam's voice echoes in all their ears, "Keep your eyes open."

"Well." Natasha sighs, chin held high, "It could be anybody."

The rows of tactical units let them pass as they approach, crossing through the barricade and closer towards the Meeting Hall.

"—And by the way, I called in some backup."

"Excuse me!" A voice calls out to them from behind, "Are you guys supposed to be here?"

Their trio all stop to stare, a bit bewildered, but then the civilian reaches up a hand, pulls off their beanie, and then tears off a thin mask to reveal an all too familiar face, "It's me."

"Sharon." Bucky blinks, "What the h—ll are you doing here?"

"Relax. No one's looking for me here." The woman looks sharply at the older redhead, eyes widened slightly, "I thought you were dead."

"Ditto." Natasha comments with a simple raised brow, "My contacts all told me you got dusted with the rest of them."

Sharon hums at that, offering only a slight shrug, "Must have gotten our wires crossed."

"Must have," Natasha agrees thinly.

Svetlana squints suspiciously between the two women, but for now, she says nothing.

"Do I hear Sharon?" Sam interrupts a bit happily.

"Unfortunately," Bucky grouses a bit less happily.

"Hey, Sam." Sharon automatically connects to their link, "I thought I'd get the band back together."

"Thank you. You're risking a lot coming here."

Natasha raises a brow when Sharon shrugs, "I hear pardons aren't all they're cracked up to be, anyway."

"Depends on the therapist."

Father and daughter swiftly share a small smile before Sam goes on, "They'll move on the building soon. Be ready."

They're ready, but the Flag Smashers never come. It's calm, it's far too calm.

Even with Sam now in the building, they know Karli and her team of Flag Smashers have tricks up their sleeves. It's only once the evacuation procedures start do they realize it's all a ploy to get all of the voting senators to fall right into their hands. Suddenly they're in a mad dash to save the hostages from ever leaving the GRC in the first place.

They all go to do what they do best.

They split up to chase down every one of the senators taken hostage, by ground and by air. In the garage, Sharon takes out one Flag Smasher with Mercury vapor as Bucky and Natasha hijack a motorcycle to give chase on the ground. Meanwhile, Svet takes the emergency staircase to the rooftop just in time to watch the helicopter loaded with senators lifting from the helipad.

"The chopper's taking off," Sharon reports from the street level, peering up with a furrow in her brow.

Still busy with Batroc, Sam yells over their comm, "Bucky! Nat?!"

"We don't fly, man." Bucky returns evenly, "That's your thing."

Natasha revvs the engine, and Bucky wraps an arm around her waist. The tires squeal as the bike peels down the street.

"Slugger?"

"Up high!" The girl shouts, sprinting across the rooftop as quick as her legs can carry her.

Her boots suddenly scrape to a stop at the very edge of the building, her entire body swaying forward from the inertia. Her arms fan out before her and her lungs shuddering as she gasps. The ground is so very far down below and the helicopter is swooping away overhead, but suddenly her mouth is dry and her heart is pounding in her chest.

The urge to jump was far too strong.

There was something so hypnotizing about standing on the edge of the world, the weighty scale between life and death, that tantalizing temptation to fall. Everything slowed down, everything went silent, like it was granting one last wish, just one last moment of peace.

"Whatever it takes."

Whatever it takes.

As the helicopter holding the hostages whizzes by, Svetlana raises her wrist and then shoots her ripcord, the mini hook catching onto the bottom rail easily. Her stomach swoops as her boots leave the concrete and she's swept into the air. The wind cuts through her hair and dries her eyes, but she just clings tighter to the taut cord, legs dangling over the open air and rooftops.

It turns out that Svet doesn't actually like heights that much anymore.

"Slugger?" Sam suddenly calls, "You hanging in?"

"Still hanging!" Svet yells over the wind, trying to stay focused, "Just passing Park and 123rd. Five hostages."

Just then, Svetlana hears the familiar sound of her uncle's new vibranium wings cutting through the air. She whips around for a better look, grinning as his red, white, and blue suit sails closer. Captain America. Unfortunately, Svetlana is not the only one who notices him. The helicopter suddenly takes a nosedive down towards the street, trying to outrun Sam in hot pursuit.

Svet shrieks as she's plunged perilously close to the ground, feet dancing wildly over the concrete. She narrowly dodges a honking car and a lamppost before the chopper pulls back up, still moving swiftly through the streets.

"They're heading towards the Hudson!" Sam's voice is panicked now, blaring in her ear, "Drop out now!"

Svet gasps at the sight of black water suddenly in view, rushing closer and closer with every passing second. She can't stay on her ripcord over water. They could drag and drown her, for sure.

Sam swoops into view and Svet quickly looks up, "Are you sure?"

"I got this, Slugger!" He shouts back, "Go!"

Without another word, Svetlana releases the hook, twists her body into a backflip, and then lands on a bridge just in time to find the Flag Smashers her parents are currently trying to fight, lighting up one of the transports with the hostages. 

It's just a diversion, that much is clear, to give them time to escape, but it doesn't matter. It will kill the hostages just the same. Natasha immediately ignores the fighting to rush to the civilians. She tugs on the door sealed shut before yanking the gun from her belt to shoot off the lock. But no matter what she does, the thick door won't budge.

"James, little help over here!"

Bucky sprints over to the truck immediately, beating at the clamps over and over again until it breaks loose. Together, Svetlana's mother and father finally tear the back doors off its hinges. The teen watches in a strange sort of awe as her parents begin freeing the hostages from their fiery trap.

"Be careful." Natasha helps the senators out one by one as Bucky calls, "We've got you. Go, go!"

One senator looks up at them, safe and sincere when he says, "Thank you for saving us."

Bucky watches the senator go in a flash of awe, finally murmuring, "You're welcome..."

Natasha smiles and pats his chest, "Not bad, James."

"Whoa..." Svetlana breathes as she glances between her two parents, tears in her eyes.

Both Bucky and Natasha turn as if just noticing her, each smiling instantly.

"Morgenthau!" A distant voice bellows, cutting off their moment completely.

They all turn to find none other than John Walker jogging onto the scene, and on his arm is a crude homemade imitation of her uncle's shield.

"Walker?" Svet groans, "Again?!"

He's not here to stop the Flag Smashers, or save the hostages.

He's come here for one reason and one reason only: to kill Karli Morgenthau.

Without another word, the Barnes—Romanoff's turn and rejoin the fight.

They're all tired, but they continue to fight because they have to, because they need to. Bucky is tackled to the cement by one of the team. As they grapple on the ground, he groans and stabs the woman's leg with his knife, then throws the fighter to the ground. Svet catches one's fist midair and shoots behind herself, knocking down one more. As another Flag Smasher charges, Natasha spins in that direction and fires her widow bites, electricity zapping through their rigid immobilized bodies. Suddenly, Bucky is kicked hard against the side rail and then thrown off the bridge entirely, metal hand scraping at the concrete before plummeting hundreds of feet below.

Svet screams out of instinct, no words, just plain terror as she abandons her current target to sprint to the rail. Her stomach collides hard into the stone and she forces herself to peer over the edge, throat right with choked tears.

But Bucky is fine. 

Of course he is, if not a bit preoccupied with the Flag Smasher who jumped after him.

Natasha is at her side in an instant, calling orders, "Free the last transport, I'll help your father!"

The orders help. They provide focus, redirection, clarity even. As Natasha disappears, Svet turns just in time to find Karli behind the wheel of the last truck and driving straight towards her. The girl barely manages to dive and roll out of the way, feeling the sharp wind of the passing truck.

The truck plows over the side of the bridge with a horrifying sound. As Karli jumps to safety, the front of the car slams into the metal scaffolding along the bridge side. The metal piping catches it, but it only seems to delay the inevitable as the pipes are rapidly weakening and groaning in threat.

Svetlana leaps towards the vehicle immediately, hands slamming into the back bumper as she tries to heave it back over the edge. The sharp metal cuts viciously into her bare palms, blood flowing from her split skin. A sweat breaks out on her brow and she bares her teeth. The massive weight pulls mercilessly at her body, her boots scraping at the ground.

"Walker, the people!" Svet cries out over her shoulder, "Help me get these people out!"

The girl cranes her head back to watch desperately as the ex—captain looks between the truck and Karli. The hostages or his target, he has to choose.

He does.

Finally, Walker joins her at the back of the truck. His hands join hers on the backrail, each of them pulling with all of their might to keep the vehicle from going over. The hostages shriek and cry within the truck, their pleas only making them pull harder. But before they can pull it safely over the ledge, the Flag Smashers set upon them once again. Svet tries hard to fight them off, to even explain why they need to save these people, but it's no use.

Suddenly Svetlana is in free fall.

It's all come to this.

She hasn't jumped, she's been pushed, but the end result is the same. She is falling off the edge of the world, the weighty scale between life and death, giving into that tantalizing temptation to fall. Now, she feels weightless, feels all that terrible guilt lifting from her shoulders until her spine will hit the ground with a vicious snap. 

Morning sky eyes danced across the midnight sky, black reflecting back into her soft blues. Red hair rustles against her cheeks as the wind blows, the world quiet except for her breathing. She can sense presences below her — shadows, looming presences, her family. She doesn't look at them.

Everything slows down, everything goes silent, like it is granting one last wish, just one last moment of peace.

"You must lose... that which you love. An everlasting exchange. A soul, for a soul."

A girl with red hair and morning sky eyes stares up at the sky that was so very far away. It won't hurt for long. That much she knows. It will be fast. A long drop, a sudden stop, and then the pain will end, that horrible wretched pain in her heart will go away and she won't have lost anyone.

Finally, the girl who was always left behind will get to be the one going away.

But Svetlana wants to live. She's always wanted to live.

And now, she has people to live for, and they're not going anywhere.

The redhead closes her morning sky eyes, spreads out her arms, and then she falls.

"Let me go."

For the first time, since that day on Vormir, she can finally let go.

Svetlana lands on her feet.

Her parents are at her side within the next breath, each of them clinging onto her, talking over one another, but she doesn't need to reassure them. The sudden landing has sent a jolt up her body, all the way from her feet to her shoulders, but it just lets her know she's alive.

It hurts, but it feels good.

It doesn't feel good for long.

The final poles on the scaffolding break above them. The hostages scream in terror. The truck whines, creaks, and then begins to drop for the last time.

But then, without warning, it stops all together.

Because Captain America is there.

Sam is at the front of the truck, catching it before it can fall. Her small family all grin from the ground as he manages to push it back over the ledge and safely onto the street, to the cheers of the onlooking crowd.

"H—ll, yeah!" One man pumps his fist, "That's the Black Falcon there, I tell you."

"Nah," another corrects with a smile, "That's Captain America."

But the fight's not over.

It's just taken underground.

Surrounded by smoke, Sam uses his heat vision to lead their group into the tunnels beneath the Hudson. Five pairs of feet pound against the concrete ground, moving in tandem through the darkened tunnels. The air is instantly cooler down here, shifting the atmosphere into something much more sinister.

"Hey, Sharon. We're underground." Bucky calls into his ear piece, jogging between Natasha and Svet, "We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south."

"Looks like they split up." Sam informs them, suddenly stopping to point down one hazy yellow tunnel, "Here."

Walker takes off without another word, and when Sam's eyes widen in concern, Bucky nods assuredly, "We got it."

Just as they go to follow, Svetlana hesitates. She needs to see this through. She needs to know that she doesn't have to protect her parents. That they can protect themselves. That they will still be together even if Svet isn't always in the equation. She's been so terrified of leaving them, so terrified of leaving them unprotected, she hasn't been able to move forward. She hates it. It's scary. But now it's what she has to do.

Her mother sees right through her, "Svetti, you coming or going?"

"I will... I think I will go with Uncle Sam."

Bucky's brows raise carefully, "You sure, darlin'?"

"Yes, Papa." She finally thinks she is, "I'm sure."

"I got her." Sam comforts her worried parents, waving the teen onward, "Let's go, Slugger."

For the second time this evening, Svetlana's family splits into two. As her parents go to keep Walker in line, Svet follows Sam deeper in the tunnels. Strange yellow and blue lights look hazy through the dust and smog, and Svet can sense at least three warm bodies further in the tunnels. Somewhere ahead, whistling bounces off the cold concrete walls.

Then a shot echoes in the distance.

Sam and Svet exchange a nervous glance before both breaking into a sprint, boots finally skidding to a stop in a small open amongst the debris and construction. Batroc is limp at their feet and Sharon is on her knees, hands pressed to her bleeding stomach. Karli is the only one still standing with a gun in her hand.

Sam drops his shield onto his back with his hands extended in a show of peace.

Karli barely glances up at them, "Sam, Svetlana, stay back."

"Karli, it is time to stop this." Svetlana doesn't stay back, though Sam sets a hand on her shoulder, "You want to be heard, but all people can hear is your violence."

"She's right." Sam agrees, "What's next, huh? You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end? Please, let me help you."

"Don't try and manipulate me."

Karli raises her gun and aims it directly at Sharon.

"Karli, don't—!"

Sam immediately tackles her away from his friend and when Svetlana jerks forward to join the fight, he shouts, "Stay back, Slugger! I'll handle this!"

Her whole body flinches in denial, but she forces herself to follow orders. This is the Captain's fight, this she knows. She'll respect his wishes. But now she's forced to watch as her uncle makes one final desperate attempt to reason with Karli, refusing to fight her even as she furiously tries again and again to kill him. Svet can't bear to watch anymore. She suddenly doesn't care about what Sam says. She won't let another member of her family die. She won't. Svetlana yanks the gun from her belt and raises her weapon high. 

"Uncle Sam—!"

Her finger hovers over the trigger, heart pounding, palms sweating. She realizes with a sudden flash of relief and terror: she can't do it. She can't kill anymore.

But then a gun fires.

Svetlana shrieks and jolts in shock, pistol dropping and head turning just in time to see that it wasn't her who pulled the trigger. But Sharon stands just a few feet behind her, holding her own smoking gun. Karli collapses to the ground instantly. Sam is there to catch her. He holds her trembling body in his arms, tears slipping down her young face, the massive hole in her chest a bloody burnt mess. She can't be saved. They all know it, even Karli.

"I'm sorry," she whispers and then breathes her last.

Sam bows his head, body hunched over the body of another child soldier, another person who shouldn't have died. Svet drops her gun and crouches slowly at his side, resting her hand on his shoulder.

"Uncle Sam..." She whispers, "You did the best you could."

There isn't anything else she can say.

When he returns above ground, the reporters immediately pepper Sam with questions about the Flag Smashers, about his new role, about Captain America, about everything. But Sam ignores them all to lay Karli down on a stretcher and lay her to rest.

Svetlana took the long way around, returning above ground on foot. Among the cop cars and ambulances, a small crowd has formed with her family along with it. As always, Natasha keeps to the shadows, hood over her head, still not ready to give herself away to the world, but Bucky stands close to the new Captain, proud and smiling softly as he watches on. Svetlana jogs up to join them, touching a hand to her parents' arms when she arrives.

As she nears, she can hear Sam's voice echoing over the street, "—We finally have a common struggle now. Think about that! For once, all the people who've been begging, and I mean, literally begging for you to feel how hard any given day is... Now you know." Sam turns to look around at every face staring back at him, "How did it feel to be helpless? Now, if you could remember what it was like to be helpless and face a force so powerful it could erase half the planet, you would know that you're about to have the exact same impact. This isn't about easy decisions, Senator."

The senator looks him right in the eye and shakes his head, "You just don't understand."

Sam scoffs in sad disbelief, "I'm a Black man carrying the stars and stripes. What don't I understand? Every time I pick this thing up, I know there are millions of people who are gonna hate me for it. Even now, here... I feel it. The stares, the judgment. And there's nothin' I can do to change it. Yet, I'm still here. No super serum, no blond hair, or blue eyes. The only power I have is that I believe we can do better."

Svetlana leans safely into Bucky's side, his arm instinctually moving around her waist. They're covered in dust and sweat. They've got a few cuts and scrapes, but they're all safe and alive and together. Not everyone is as lucky.

"We can't demand that people step up if we don't meet them halfway." In the flashing red and blue lights, Sam stands before the world to speak the truth, "Look, you control the banks. Sh—t, you can move borders! You can knock down a forest with an email, you can feed a million people with a phone call!"

Svetlana knows that all around the country, all around the world, people will be listening to this speech, to this truth, and she hopes that they listen. That they will change.

"But the question is, who's in the room when you make those decisions? Hmm? Is it the people you're gonna impact? Or is it just more people like you? I mean, this girl died trying to stop you, and no one has stopped for one second to ask why." Sam turns back to face the man in front of him, setting the record straight, "You've gotta do better, Senator. You've gotta step up! Because if you don't, the next Karli will. And you don't wanna see 2.0. People believed in her cause so much that they helped her defy the strongest governments in the world. Why do you think that is? Look, you people have just as much power as an insane god or a misguided teenager.

"The question you have to ask yourself is, 'How are you going to use it?'"

There is no argument that they can make. There is no response they can give. Sam doesn't wait for them to come up with one. He leaves the cameras and flashing lights behind to meet two—thirds of Barnes—Romanoff's further down the street.

"Sorry, I was, uh," Bucky feigns nonchalance, glancing at the ground, "I was texting and so, all I heard was, um, 'a Black guy in stars and stripes'."

Sam and Svetlana chuckle a bit.

With a grin on his face, Bucky reaches around and pats the shield on her uncle's back, "Nice job, Cap."

"Thanks."

"Well, well, well." Natasha waits for them at the edge of the ambulance, a smirk tugging at her lips, "Delighted we saved the day, definitely need a break from you two. Don't call me, I'll call you."

Bucky and Sam laugh as Svet leans into her mother's side, each of their arms draped around each other's backs. It's been a long, long day. It'll be good to go home now.

Sam glances up to find the other member of their team waiting for them, tending to the wound on her stomach, "Sharon?"

"Blocking my light," she quips.

"We gotta get you to a hospital."

Bucky frowns and glances around almost casually, "She's not gonna listen."

Sharon pants a little, "It's not the worst thing that's happened to me all week."

"Told you."

"It's about to get a bit worse, I think." Natasha frowns from the side of their small circle, "There was a reason I didn't get you that pardon, Sharon."

The blonde woman straightens against a nearby car, brow arched, "I'm not sure what you mean."

Natasha smirks, giving away nothing.

Just then, a collection of cops swarm behind them and are putting the woman in handcuffs before she can even object.

"Nat—,"

The officer in charge speaks over Sam's confusion, "Sharon Carter, you're under arrest for war profiteering, illegal possession of firearms, illegal sale of firearms, assault and battery, theft and smuggling, money laundering, extortion, obstruction of justice, sabotage—,"

They're still listing the various charges against Sharon by the time that they notice Natasha is already striding away. Svet, Bucky, and Sam reluctantly drag themselves away from the sight to catch up with the redhead who is nearly at the corner.

Sam is in disbelief, "Sharon is the powerbroker?"

"I did not see that coming," Bucky shakes his head.

"I did," Svet pipes up with her hands folded behind her back.

Her uncle squints teasingly, "You did not!"

"Did so." Svet insists and then blushes, "Or I guessed it maybe, anyhow."

"Alright, alright." Natasha waves them all off, "Can we move past the denial stage and jump right into acceptance?"

"Done." Bucky is more than willing, "So, after we finish processing the scene, we should get some food. I'm starving."

"Thai!" Svet jumps in.

"We've had Thai three days straight." Natasha shakes her head, "Burgers."

"Pizza," Bucky is rather dry for such an insistent decision.

The older redhead ponders this before shrugging in agreement, "I can live with pizza."

The teen laughs and nods, "Yes, fine. Pizza it is."

Sam begs off a little, "Well, you guys go on ahead—,"

"No, Wilson." Bucky cuts in sternly, "You're coming with us."

They all stare at each other, and Natasha dons a warm tired smile, "You're part of the family, Sam, you really think you can get away from us that easily?"

Sam takes this in and with a final glance at Svet's eager expression, he sighs and smirks, "All right. Pizza, anchovies too."

"Agh, I take it back, you can't come anymore."

Svetlana smiles to herself, finally feeling at peace. She has her family. She's not alone. She's not a killer anymore. She's not afraid anymore. Of herself. Of what she can do. Of the fall. She knows her limits and she's ready to fight whatever comes next. So, the girl thinks as they walk into the darkness, this is what the future looks like.

For the first time, in a long time, she thinks she's ready to welcome it.

━━━━━━

THINGS ARE FALLING INTO PLACE. The GRC announces the changes in their policies of repatriation and resettlement. Both Sharon and Walker are in court, having to answer for what they've done. Sam makes things right for Isaiah Bradley and his family, and the Romanoff—Barnes' have things to make right of their own. It's terrifying, sickening to even think about, but they can't put it off any longer.

It's time to make amends.

Natasha goes with them.

Their footsteps are unbearably loud,

They stand in the blue lit hall, Svet with her head bowed, Bucky turning the notebook in his hands over and over — both acting as if in prayer. Natasha is between them, her hands on both of their shoulders slipping down their arms to take their hands, a bridge between them and their missing piece.

"When you're ready..."

Bucky waits until Svet nods, and then he knocks.

Not even a moment later, a tall wooden door opens to that worn sweet face staring back at them with a flash of confusion. This troubled old man they ate lunch with every Wednesday unafraid to speak up or fight over small things that mattered to him, like trash. He reminds Bucky of Steve, if he's being honest.

"Hey." Yori glances between each face of their little broken family, "What are you all doing here?"

When no one answers, Yori stands to the side, his voice quiet, "It's late. Come in before someone calls the cops."

"Thank you," Natasha smiles politely, taking that first step into the house to buy both Svet and Bucky a few more seconds to breathe deeply.

Bucky finds Svet's hand, squeezes it tight, and then leads her into the apartment. The moment they step into this warm small home, Svet feels it immediately. Pulsing heart, sweat on her neck, a mild shake in her little fingers. Everything rational within her is fighting to leave.

Maybe they shouldn't have come.

Bucky takes another step, so Svet forces herself to as well. When she sees his head turn, her breath catches within her lungs at the sight of the mantlepiece. The man, Yori's son, smiles at them; his features youthful and happy, eyes bright and unknowing of the fate that they would one day give him. Smoke from a single candle drifts past his framed illuminated face.

"What are you doing here?" Yori asks softly, still confused, "It's not Wednesday."

"We, uh." Bucky blinks back to focus, squeezing Svet's hand once more, feeling the strength of Natasha at his other side, "We have to tell you something. About your son."

Yori's confusion only grows, but he keeps himself calm, measured. He's a strong man, Natasha already knows — of course she does. Any parent who loses a child is. They have to be. They have no other choice. They tread, or they sink. Natasha would know better than anyone.

Yori takes a seat before gesturing for the family to do the same. Svet still can't get herself to take the lead, instead watching as first Bucky and then Natasha sit down on the couch. She watches as Bucky slowly takes off his black glove so his vibranium hand is visible.

Yori stares.

Svetlana forces herself to take a seat. She's shaking so violently, she knows that Yori and her parents can see it.

"He was murdered." Bucky continues, watching their friend, no, their victim's father, with worried eyes.

"What?"

Yori's head tilts in confusion.

The world seems to stop.

She makes herself quietly add, "By the Bloody Ballerina."

"She was made to by the Winter Soldier, and that was..." Svet wipes at a crystalline tear slipping down her cheek as Bucky sucks in a deep breath, "And that was us."

Svetlana's shoulders suddenly jerk and then she weeps, though she knows she shouldn't, though she knows Yori deserves better. She tries to make the sobs stop, but it all pours from her like waves of an ocean that she can't hold back. Waves upon waves of hurt and guilt that flow without hope of an end until they're ready, but soon there are currents of feeling good through it all — relief. It doesn't last longer than thirty seconds, Svet knows somewhere distantly, but it feels forever. She senses that Natasha's hand is on her back and Bucky's hand is still in hers, and it gives her enough strength.

When she forces herself to look back up, Yori is glancing at the floor, then back up again.

"Why?" He asks, voice shaking too.

Svetlana doesn't have an answer to that.

With a shaky inhale, Bucky's hand — his metal hand — contracts and his grip tightens on his daughter's hand.

"She didn't have a choice." His voice shakes too, another deep inhale, it takes everything inside of him to admit this to himself and everyone else in the room, "And neither did I."

━━━━━━

"OKAY. SO IT IS A SURPRISE, YES?"

It's a Tuesday. The sun is out, the sky is the perfect shade of blue, and Svetlana is dragging her parents, plus Uncle Sam, through an obscure community hall located somewhere in Brooklyn.

Her parents are outrightly confused, it's more than clear on their faces, but Svet has been ignoring their questions since she bustled them out the door this morning. They grew even more confused when she insisted Sam come along as well. He is family, after all, and they've all got plans to head down to Louisiana in a few days for the boat party, anyway. Besides, Sam is in on this particular secret.

It's been a couple of very hard weeks, with many difficult things that they had to face and to make amends for. The rest of the Flag Smashers were killed in an explosion shortly after the final battle. Bucky suspects it was Zemo, and Svet knows he's probably right. Sharon is facing prison time for her activities as the powerbroker. Sam grieves for her. After everything they told him, Yori didn't forgive them, but it's okay. He doesn't owe them his forgiveness, but they did owe him an explanation and that's what they gave. As Natasha says, you can't ask more than that.

Svetlana decided that it was time something good finally happened.

They deserve it. They deserve a little happiness.

Stopping in front of the main hall, Svet lets out a low shaky breath, "Here we are..."

Then, without further ado, the redhead throws the double doors wide open.

The hall is already full of people of all ages standing and sitting around arranged plastic tables and chairs, filling the room with chatter and laughter. There's a long buffet table to the side filled with all sorts of delicious smelling food. The walls are covered in balloons, colorful banners, and what seems to be keepsakes and knick—knacks of generations' worth of memories from pictures to postcards to hand—painted art pieces.

No one yells 'surprise', no one jumps out at them, but her parents are shocked all the same.

It's not a surprise party in terms of lights off (she'd had Uncle Sam describe such a party to her), but she decided that perhaps surprising two infamous Russian killers in this way might not be the best way to go.

When they walk in, the room goes quiet. Svet feels nerves shiver up and down her spine as she stares around at them all. There has to be at least fifty people that she invited here, and all of them are staring back at them. They all showed up.

Svet's chest hurts from holding her breath for so long.

Sam gives her a reassuring nod, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

The first to move is an older woman with dark grey hair and brilliant morning sky eyes.

She rises from her seat and walks across the room, nice shoes slowly clicking on the wooden floor. As she comes closer, Svet watches Bucky slowly take her in: she looks in her mid—nineties, with lines around her eyes and her hair a dark shade of silver, like a thundercloud. She wears a cardigan over her pale blue dress. She comes to a halt a few feet away from her little family, her eyes fixed on Bucky's face.

Bucky glances sideways at Svet who just softly smiles at him. He then looks sharply back at the woman, watching her carefully, whose eyes are now glittering with tears. He stares at the woman's face, taking in her high cheekbones and the pale blue of her eyes, her half—crooked smile. Bucky falters for a moment, expression softening in an instant.

He takes in a sharp breath, "Becca."

"Bucky..."

The women smiles, her lips trembling slightly, and reaches out. Bucky's hand leaves Svet's and then reaches out to take the woman's hands with shaking vibranium fingers. They each grip the other tightly and beam at one another, searching each other's faces.

"My big brother," the older woman chokes.

Tears glistens in Bucky's morning eyes as he stares at his little sister, her face lined with joy and time. Bucky shakes his head wordlessly, then launches forward and kisses his sister on her wrinkled forehead.

"Bec," he breathes again, searching for the words to express all that he feels. "You're beautiful, Becca."

And then Rebecca weeps in Bucky's arms.

The rest of the room gives them a few moments of privacy for this reunion; a low buzz of conversation striking back up, though all eyes linger on the doorway where Svet's family stays.

After a few moments, Rebecca pulls away a little, looking a bit embarrassed and dabbing her teary eyes, "I'm sorry, sorry Bucky,"

"Don't apologize," he says a bit roughly.

Rebecca squeezes his hand and then sweeps her arms around the room, "Bucky, I want you to meet my family — and your family."

Bucky swallows harshly, looking cautiously and nodding out at the room who all share a resemblance to him in some way or another. He is met with broad smiles and teary eyes everywhere he looks.

It's all too much, but it's also just enough.

"Hello everyone," he calls in a shaky voice. As they all reply with the same greeting, Bucky quietly exhales and then glances at the people still at his side, looking first to Natasha,  "Becca, I want you to meet my family, too. This is my—," he falters, unsure of what to call her exactly.

The redheaded woman steps in with a knowing smirk, hand extended, "I'm Natasha."

Becca wraps both of her hands around hers, "It's a pleasure to see my big brother's finally found a woman deserving of him."

Natasha takes a breath at that, shocked at such a sentence to even have time to think of reply.

Bucky helps her by quickly moving on, "And our daughter, Svetlana."

"Oh, I know." Becca chuckles so Svet beams, "This sweet girl reached out to me and set this whole thing up for us."

Svet blushes furiously when Bucky looks at her in shock, "You did all of this, darlin'?"

His daughter gently takes his hand and holds it tight, "We have more family that we ever knew, Papa. I wanted you — all of us — to know it."

They introduce her small family to everyone, and their faces and names are instantly catalogued within Svetlana's mind — James as the man at the door, Ruth as the pretty woman with a familiar laugh, more cousins twice her age named Paul, Jack, Helen, Kathryn, Roger, and Stevie, their endless list of children and their children who now have children. 

The whole rambunctious brood of Bartons are present, of course, and Uncle Steve is there, too, now frail and in his wheelchair, but smiling wide when Svet kisses his cheek.

"Hey oldtimer," Natasha grins at the sight of him, "They let you out of the nursing home?"

"Nice to see you, too, Nat." As always, Steve accepts the name—calling with grace before smirking up at Bucky, "Looking good, jerk."

"Punk." His best friend gently squeezes his shoulder, "Good to see you, buddy."

Steve smiles back, tears in his familiar blue eyes, so glad that his best friend has finally found the good life that he himself had. The conversation drifts as Sam arrives and everyone gets to talking about recent events, about life in general, and everything in between.

It's so overwhelming that they simply stand in the chaos of it all, just trying to absorb the sounds and smells of this home and this family. Family is Bucky, Natasha, Sam, Steve, and all the others. It's father, mother, uncles, aunts, and friends... It's not perfect; in fact, it's mostly broken but it's still good. But now, it's also this.

Those connected by blood and birthday parties and love.

They're easy together, comfortable, sharing inside jokes and teasing about childhood memories. Grandparents, siblings, cousins, parents. They joke and laugh, offering them tea and cakes and recipes handed down for generations.

In the lull of a conversation about favorite desserts, Svet turns to her mother and whispers, "So sorry, Mamulya, I have another surprise, but there was a bit of a delay..."

Natasha squints suspiciously, "What did you—?"

The double doors of the auditorium suddenly slam wide open for the second time, and everyone turns to stare because in waltzes three people — a big man with a bushy beard, a tall lithe woman with sharp features, and a shorter blonde woman with wide eyes.

"Ah!" Alexei cries, "Where is my vnučka?!"

Svet laughs as she jogs over and throws herself into Alexei's waiting arms. The girl shrieks as the much bigger man picks her up and swings her around so her shoes slip off her feet and go flying.

Melina tsks, "Oh, be gentle with our only grandchild, Alexei, you will break her."

"My indestructible vnučka? I do not think so," Alexei laughs but obeys all the same, setting her back down.

Svet sways on her feet, still laughing up a storm. Melina smiles and kisses both of her granddaughter's cheeks, who beams back at her. Yelena then tucks an arm over her shoulders and they squeeze each other tight.

"Hey Svetochka, how's tricks?"

"Tricks are for kids," she winks back.

Natasha strides over to the new arrivals, a smirk slowly stretching across her mouth, "What the h—ll are you all doing here?"

"We were invited, of course," Melina tells her with an equally wide smirk.

"I hope we are welcome, Natasha?"

Natasha nods, takes their hands, and then says, "You're welcome. Welcome home."

"Papa, come! Quick!" Svetlana eagerly grabs her father's vibranium arm, dragging him closer before she proudly introduces, "This is my papa, James 'Bucky' Barnes."

The air goes still for half a moment. Still and a bit dangerous.

"The Winter Soldier..." Alexei muses slowly, appraising him.

Bucky stays still, gaze levelled with theirs, shoulders tensed but expression open. He's willing to take whatever they throw at him, for Svet, for Natasha. Svet nervously holds her breath while Natasha stands tall at her family's sides, expression the same perfect mask as always. This introduction could end in almost a hundred different ways, and violence is heavily involved in most of them.

"Welcome to the family!" Alexei finally booms.

Melina rolls her eyes but pats Bucky's vibranium arm all the same.

Yelena eyes the man closely and says nothing.

The Barnes side of their family looks bewildered for a half a moment before they're welcoming in Natasha's small family with open arms. The Russians are clearly overwhelmed by the immense size and, well, normalness of the American Barnes family.

Svet keeps dragging people closer, trying to introduce anyone and everyone, "And this is my Uncle Sam, my Uncle Steve, and my new Aunt Becca..."

Once all are acquainted, everyone is spread out through the hall in various groups and discussions. Some are eating from the buffet while others play games or talk about old times.

Alexei absolutely refuses to believe that this old Steve is the same Captain America he heard about for so long in legends, and he eyes Sam with a thoughtful pensive gaze.

Alexei asks cautiously, "So you are the new Captain America now?"

"I am," Sam nods proudly and comfortably.

"Well, then you must know that the first captain and I were a bit of rivals, you see, a contemporary, I'd say."

This is news to Steve. He has never seen this man before in his life.

"Absolutely none of this is true," Yelena objects as she strides by.

Steve and Sam subtly hide a smile but Alexei is appalled, "Is true! All true! How dare you, Lena,"

"Enough with the war stories, old man," Natasha agrees from where she stands with a few of the others.

At her side, Bucky is quickly shaking his head at his almost mother—in—law, "No, I'm really okay—,"

"You should eat more," Melina insists, adding to the already existent heap of pelmeni on Bucky's paper plate before he can resist.

"Agreed. You look hungry, big brother." Becca nods along to the Russian woman, "Another helping, please."

Melina readily complies, dropping another spoonful, before delving into a deep discussion about her new recipe for pelmeni with Becca and Laura. Already far too full, Bucky looks desperately at Natasha who smirks and shrugs rather unhelpfully.

"Oh, you're on your own for this one, Barnes," she takes a long sip from her beer.

"Who would have thought? The great and fearsome Winter Soldier, defeated by a bunch of old ladies, yes?" Yelena tsks at him, elbow resting on her sister's shoulder. "What has the world come to?"

"Well, I've been making a habit of not killing family members on the first meeting," Bucky shoots back just as swiftly.

"If killing is out of the question, how about maiming?"

"Some maiming," Natasha sets restrictions.

"I'm starting to consider making an exception," Bucky squints between the sisters before turning away to join another friendlier conversation with Clint and a few of his nephews.

Natasha and Yelena snicker.

Svetlana smiles and slips away from the crowd of her friends and family, stepping off to the side to gather her thoughts. She bites her lip for a moment, considering. Then, she pulls her phone from her back pocket, opens a new chat with a very specific name displayed at the top, and begins typing a message:

Hey Peter, this is Svetlana :)

Let's hang out sometime?

━━━━━━ annie speaks ━━━━━━

HELLO!!! i've returned to Wattpad with a splash!! you guys i missed you so much my heart hurt, but i appreciate y'all having patience and waiting me out. i love you guys.

now, onto business. first off,, oh my goooooood. this is simultaneously one of my least favorite AND favorite chapters. SO MUCH HAPPENED. you'll notice i changed a few things with the plot? i hope no one is upset with them? i tried to "write" (lol, i think I'm funny) some wrongs i saw happen and i hope i did it right.

we kind of zoomed through the final battle but i wanted to really hit all the emotional moments for svet to come to peace with all that had happened and with herself so those were definitely the centerpieces there. hope it was okay? big yikes. THEN WE HAD TO HURT YORI. guys the pain and tears that i experienced writing that was genuine. but hopefully i made up for it in that last half? hehehe so much to come, so much to enjoy

comment and let's discuss here?

far from home, here we come.
(ps: svetlana barnes will be returning in no way home)