десять | TEN
2016
Inside the airport, Natalia was waiting to face her worst fear. The Black Widow did not challenge the Winter Soldier. The fall did not withstand the winter; that was the natural law of the world. The metal arm somewhere in the German airport was the written commandment, and the red in her hair was the signature.
She wasn't sure if she could stand to be on the side that wasn't his own.
Steve walked through the underpass, purpose keeping his chin high. He started toward a runway where a helicopter sat, vulnerable and there for the taking. But before he could get close enough, one of Tony's electric disablers soared through the air, landing around the chopper blades.
Tony and Rhodes both landed on the concrete ground, their metal-encassed feet making deep, metallic thunks. Tony said, sarcastically, a non-greeting to Steve, "Wow, it's so weird how you run into people at the airport. Don't you think that's weird?"
Rhodes played along. "Definitely weird."
"Hear me out, Tony," Steve insisted. "That doctor--the psychiatrist--he's behind all of this."
The power went out with the "psychiatrist" in the room, Natasha reminded herself. When they next saw James, he was the Asset. Nothing was right about it.
The Wakandan king leaped over a truck, entering Steve's line of sight. Decked in his panther suit, he grumbled, "Captain."
He flicked his eyes toward the king, and nodded his head. "Your highness."
Tony interrupted, "Anyway, Ross gave me thirty six hours to bring you in. That was twenty four hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"
"You're after the wrong guy."
"Your judgment is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday."
He wouldn't. Not in his own mind.
"And there are five more super soldiers just like him!" he protested, trying to get to his point. Natasha perked up in interest, but her friend didn't go on. "I can't let the doctor find them first, Tony. I can't."
"Steve, you know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?" Steve turned to look at her. For the first time, they were not on the same side. It was a shift in the atmosphere, a change in the weather--Captain America and the Black Widow not fighting side by side? Unheard of.
"All right, I've run out of patience. Underoos!"
A shadow passed overhead. Webbing attached to the edge of the shield and pulled it away, another shot tying up Steve's hands at the wrists. The assailant landed on the back of a white truck--one leg folded underneath him, the shield tucked safely on his arm. He raised his head almost menacingly.
Tony congratulated, "Nice job, kid."
"Thanks." He rambled, nervously, "Well, I could've stuck the landing a little better. It's just the new suit...Well, it's nothing, Mr. Stark. It's--it's perfect. Thank you."
"Yeah, we don't really need to start a conversation."
"Okay...Cap-Captain." He gave Steve, his opponent, a sweet little wave. "Big fan. I'm Spider-Man."
"Yeah, we'll talk about it later. Just..."
"Hey, everyone."
"Good job."
"You've been busy," Steve said, making small talk. He took his eyes off the boy, turning them back on Stark.
Tony whirled on him, anger flaring in his tired eyes. "And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint. 'Rescuing' Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep..." his voice died, and he huffed. "I'm trying to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."
Steve inclined his head just slightly. "You did that when you signed."
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Bucky and Sam stayed crouched in the terminal, both remaining silent as Sam scanned the airport with his little bot--Bucky refused to call it by its name--his fingertips on the side of his goggles. Suddenly, he said, "We found it. The quinjet's in Hangar Five, North Runway." The two started to run through the terminal, in the direction of the jet. "Tony and Rhoades have heat detectors. We'll have company soon enough," Sam informed him.
There was a sound from outside of the glass. "What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, looking past Sam at the blue-and-red-clad figure that had landed on the window.
"Everyone's got a gimmick now!" Bucky could have laughed at how done Sam seemed to be.
The figure shot webs from his wrist, and Bucky momentarily forgot their goal. He had only ever known of one person able to do that.
The Soldier's handlers had warned him of the Backup's new weapon, but it was still a surprise when webbing shot past his chest and attached to the enemy running at him. The Backup yanked the strand, and the Soldier raised his arm and slammed it into the rogue agent's forehead.
The Backup's eyes were full of sickness. The Soldier knew they didn't have the same treatments.
In the time that he had disappeared into memory, the window had been broken, Sam had been knocked down, and the unknown hero whirled around to face him. Bucky lashed out, but the person caught his metal fist.
"You have a metal arm? That is awesome, dude!"
Bucky's eyes widened, his arm instinctively lowering. He knew that voice too well. He opened his mouth to speak, only for Sam to swoop down and grab him.
He ran after Sam and who he desperately believed was his son. He put his fingertip to his comm. "Sam, get his mask off."
"What?"
"His name is Peter. Get his mask off. If anyone else is paying attention; if we don't get it, can you guys try?"
After a few seconds, Steve asked, "Your son?"
"I'm pretty sure. If any of you get his mask off, you need to tell me." He ducked behind a pillar. "Sam, you're on your own. I can't hurt him unless he comes after me."
"You don't know if he is or not!" he exclaimed, pushing the boy off of him. Bucky watched from around the pillar, watching every move the boy was making. As he landed on a rafter, he fell into the pose that he had been taught at a young age.
"That's him. I know his voice anywhere."
Sam launched himself back around, knocking Peter off the rafters. He shot out a web, pulling himself out from under the Falcon. With the upper hand, he shot a web at Sam's wing pack. Bucky followed them as he watched Sam's wings pull into the device, causing him to fall through a stand. Sam jumped up, but Peter webbed his hands to the railing.
"Are those wings carbon-fiber?
"Is this stuff coming out of him?" Sam muttered.
"No. It's web fluid cartridges," Bucky answered as Peter told Sam, "That would explain the rigidity-flexibility ratio, which, gotta say, that's awesome, man."
"I don't know if you've ever been in a fight before, but there's not usually this much talk."
"Alright, sorry, my bad." He launched a web at the ceiling and swung down, raising his legs to kick Sam in the chest. Bucky jumped in front of him, taking the brunt of the blow and grabbing onto Peter. He twisted around the younger boy so his arms were wrapped around his shoulders and chest in an unsupported piggy-back. The unexpected weight and movement caused them to hit the glass, crashing out of the terminal.
The two hit the ground, Bucky underneath him. The boy elbowed him in the jaw, harshly pushing his head into the concrete. Bucky stuck his metal arm between them, clasped the back of Peter's neck, and threw him off as he rolled over on top of him. Under his breath, he pleaded, "Peter, it's me. Come on."
"How the hell do you know my name?" he exclaimed, trying to fight his way out from under him.
"I gave it to you!" He reached for the mask, but Peter ducked his head to the side and grabbed his wrist, twisting it hard enough to pull him off. Bucky tightened his legs around him, pulling him along. Peter let him go, sat up, and webbed his wrists down to the concrete ground. As he tried to fight his way out of Bucky's hold, Bucky hissed, "Spider. Mission report. Now."
The boy froze, his body going slack and his chin dropping. "I have found my way in." As soon as he finished speaking, he was back to fighting his way out. He pushed his elbows down into Bucky's hips, causing him to cry out and let the boy go. Standing up, he huffed, "I don't know who you are or how you think you know me, but I have one plan today and I gotta impress Mr. Stark. So, I'm sorry." He turned into a jump, shot a web off into the airport, and swung away.
Sam dropped down beside him, his wings folding into the fixed device. "You okay?" he asked, pulling a knife from his leg. He crouched down to cut the webs.
"They brainwashed him. He's still working for HYDRA."
Sam rolled his eyes and helped Bucky get to his feet. "I was just a pararescue. I could've stayed a therapist. Why did I let Steve in my house? Come on. We need to get to the jet." He started off, Bucky following close behind.
But those with his kind of luck never win. The quinjet was so close, the shot was so clear.
It was too good to be true.