Unreadable
Tony was held up in the lab, his eyes glued to the screen as he decrypted the data from the USB. It had taken hours but finally, he cracked it. A flood of information about HYDRA's Winter Soldier program and the location of a new base in Siberia appeared on his screen. His heart raced with a mix of triumph and urgency. This could be the lead they had been hoping for.
His relationship with Bucky Barnes was a tangled web of animosity and reluctant understanding.
From the moment Tony learned of Bucky's involvement in his parents' deaths, a searing hatred had taken root in his heart, a hatred so intense it almost seemed to become a part of his identity.
Every encounter between Tony and Bucky was a clash of wills, a battle of unresolved pain and pent-up anger. Tony's fists would fly, his words sharp and cutting, while Bucky would weather the storm with a stoic silence, his own guilt and shame shadowing his every move. They had fought enough to know each other's strengths and weaknesses, to the point where their conflict had become almost familiar, a grim routine that neither could escape.
Despite this, Tony couldn't ignore the bond between Steve and Bucky. Steve's unwavering faith in Bucky was both a source of frustration and a point of grudging respect for Tony. He saw the depth of their friendship, the way Steve would go to any lengths to protect Bucky, to bring him back from the edge of darkness. It was a bond that Tony himself had never truly experienced, a brotherhood that both fascinated and infuriated him.
Tony's relationship with Steve was no less complicated. Their paths had diverged too many times. Yet, beneath the arguments and the clashes, there was a deep-seated respect and an unspoken understanding. They had fought side by side, saved each other's lives more times than they could count, and that shared history made them family in a way neither could deny.
The hatred he felt for Bucky was a constant companion, but it was tempered by the recognition of the man's own suffering, his struggle for redemption.
He watched as Steve and Bucky rebuilt their friendship, saw the way Steve's presence seemed to anchor Bucky, to bring him back from the brink. And slowly, almost imperceptibly, Tony's own feelings began to shift. The hatred was still there, but it was mingled with a reluctant empathy, a recognition of the shared pain that bound them all together.
In the end, it was this shared pain that defined their relationships. Tony, Steve, and Bucky were all haunted by their pasts, by the choices they had made and the battles they had fought. And as much as Tony hated to admit it, he couldn't imagine facing the future without them by his side.
He quickly called the others to the meeting room. "Everyone, get to the conference room please and thank you," he said into the comm system.
Steve, Iris, Natasha, Sam, and Wanda hurried into the room, their faces reflecting varying degrees of curiosity and concern. Steve's eyes met Iris's briefly, a silent reassurance passing between them.
"What did you find, Tony?" Steve asked as they took their seats.
Tony stood by the screen, pulling up the data. "I cracked the USB. HYDRA's Winter Soldier program, a new base in Siberia. Coordinates, files, everything. It's all here." he showed proudly.
Natasha leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "How fresh is this intel?"
"Pretty fresh. HYDRA's been trying to keep a low profile, but this base seems operational. They're continuing their experiments, creating more serums" Tony explained.
Iris felt a chill run down her spine. She clenched her fists, trying to steady her breath.
Steve noticed and placed a comforting hand on her leg.
"We need to move fast, we have to shut them down before they create more soldiers." Steve continued.
Before Tony could respond, the door burst open and Fury strode in, his expression dark and urgent "We have a problem...as always"
"What now?" Tony asked, irritation lacing his voice. He didn't like interruptions, especially from Fury.
"It's Bucky," Fury said, his voice heavy with tension. "He's in Chicago. Just destroyed a SHIELD quarter, civilians and all. And he's not alone."
"What do you mean?" Steve asked, his voice tense.
Fury placed a small device on the table. A holographic projection flickered to life, displaying a video feed. The image was grainy but unmistakable. Bucky, the Winter Soldier, was fighting with brutal efficiency. He wasn't alone, beside him a team of supersoldiers mirrored his movements, tearing through SHIELD agents with chilling precision.
The room fell silent as they watched the footage. Iris's heart clenched painfully. Bucky's face was a mask of cold detachment, his eyes void of recognition or mercy. Eyes she knew all too well.
"Jesus," Tony muttered, his face pale. "They've got a whole squad of them."
Fury's gaze hardened as he looked at Iris. "You need to understand something, Iris. The only reason you're not in a cell right now is because we need you to help stop him. I know your history with him. I know what HYDRA did to both of you."
Iris swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words.
"We need every advantage we can get. Iris knows Bucky. She can help us understand him, maybe even reach him."
Iris felt the weight of everyone's eyes on her. "Tony, get the jet ready, I'm going to Chicago," she said quietly but firmly.
Steve nodded "Alright. We split into two teams. One team heads to Chicago to deal with Bucky and his team. The other team prepares for the Siberia mission."
Tony sighed "Fine. I'll coordinate from here and get ready to move to Siberia once we have more intel."
Wanda spoke up, her voice quiet but resolute. "I'll go to Siberia. I can help contain them if things get out of hand."
Sam nodded. "I'll back up Steve and Iris"
Fury glanced at each of them "This is going to be tough. Stay sharp and stay together." he paused his gaze bounced between Iris and Steve "This is the second time he gets out of hand, find him and fix him before we have to put a bullet through his brain"
Iris's blood started to boil as she clenched her fists by her sides, her leg started to tremble, an anger she didn't know she stored started to unravel in her. Steve hand gripped her leg firmly.
As the teams prepared to head out, Steve pulled Iris aside. "Are you ready?"
"Are you?"
He squeezed her hand. "We will. Together."
With that, the teams split, each heading toward their respective missions.
The journey to Chicago was tense, the hum of the Quinjet's engines providing a backdrop to the collective anxiety of the team. Iris sat beside Sam, her mind racing with memories and fears. She remembered the last time she had seen Bucky struggling against the Winter Soldier programming, the excruciating screams of pain that broke in his throat, the agonizing crying and the light slowly fading transforming his ice-cold eyes into an unreachable void. Could she reach him this time? Could she break through the ice that HYDRA had built around his mind once again? But another thought was swirling in her mind, who did this? Who discovered the words again? Her hands gripping the knives on her sides, the anger building up.
Sam glanced at her "You okay?"
Iris nodded, though the gesture felt hollow. "As okay as I can be, considering the circumstances."
Sam gave her a sympathetic smile. "We'll get through this. We always do."
The Quinjet touched down in Chicago, and they were immediately met with chaos. The streets were in disarray, smoke rising from the wreckage of demolished building. Iris's heart sank as she surveyed the destruction.
Steve led the way, his jaw set "Stay close, everyone. We need to find Bucky before he does any more damage." he said while he gripped his shield as Iris lowered her veil and pulled up her mask.
They moved through the city, following the trail of destruction left in Bucky's wake. Along the way, they encountered pockets of resistance—SHIELD agents and local law enforcement doing their best to contain the chaos.
Finally, they reached the heart of the conflict—a sprawling industrial complex that had been converted into a SHIELD base. Iris's pulse quickened as she caught sight of familiar faces among the enemy soldiers with the same vacant stare that had haunted her nightmares for years.
Steve signalled for the team to halt, his gaze fixed on the entrance to the complex. "This is it" he sighed "Neutralize as many as you can, but priority is on funding Bucky" he turned, nodding at Sam as his eyes laid on the intense gaze Iris held in her eyes, the only thing showing on her face. "Be careful Iris" his hand gently laying on her cheek "Come back to me".
Iris took a deep breath, steeling herself for what lay ahead. With Steve and Sam by her side, she pushed forward.
As they breached the compound, they were met with fierce resistance. Iris fought with a ferocity Steve never saw, each blow fueled by the hope of reaching Bucky before it was too late.
As they pressed deeper into the heart of the compound, the narrow corridors echoed with the sound of gunfire and the clash of metal. Iris moved with a lethal grace, her knives flashing in the dim light as she dispatched enemy soldiers with swift, precise strikes.
In one fluid motion, she disarmed an opponent with a deft flick of her wrist, the blade slicing through the air with deadly accuracy.
Iris's knives became an extension of herself, each blade an instrument of death as she danced through the chaos.
And then, finally, she saw him, standing alone amidst the wreckage of the compound, his eyes fixed on her, his expression unreadable. Iris's heart clenched at the sight of him, her anger flaring hotter than ever as she moved to confront him, her knives held at the ready.
With a roar of defiance, she charged forward, her blades flashing in the darkness as Bucky led her away from the fight.
In his eyes, she was a spectacle, a dazzling display of strength and elegance. To him, she was magnificent, like a sudden storm that crashed the glass windows with uncontained fury. She was powerful, violent, and devastating. She was the only one capable of navigating the chaos he perpetually brewed around himself, the only one who dared to step into the eye of the storm.
She was calculating, knowing exactly when and where to strike, her moves direct and precise. Every strike she made with her knife was more precise and faster than his, a deadly dance of steel. It was an endless dance of punches and knife throws, a ballet of violence.
"You shouldn't be here," Bucky whispered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of their struggle. He was strangling her, his body pressing hard into her back, his breath hot against her skin. His arms constricted around her, leaving her gasping for air.
"I made a promise," she spat back at him, her voice strained but defiant. She managed to turn away from his suffocating grip.
"To who?" he asked, his question followed by a sharp punch to her stomach. The impact winded her, stealing the breath from her lungs.
"To Steve," her voice steady despite the pain. She had to keep him distracted, had to keep him talking.
"I don't know who that is," he responded, his words ringing hollow in her ears. And then, without warning, he threw a knife at her.
"But you know who I am?"