The Star Spangled Meeting
Once you’d finished packing, the three of you made your way down to the lobby, where you found a black SUV waiting for you. Looking at Bucky for confirmation you climbed into the backseat, sitting between him and Jemma, you found yourself face to face with, what you assumed to be, some of King T’Challa’s bodyguards. Whether they were or not was irrelevant, you knew how to take care of yourself and Jemma. The drive to the lab where, once again, you assumed Captain Rogers and King T’Challa himself were taking refuge, was quiet. Jemma mumbled the occasional factoid about the localized flora and fauna for the different regions you were in, pretending to be interested really boosted her spirits, although in reality, you had no clue what she was saying.
Every once in a while you’d catch Bucky staring at you in your peripheral vision, but when you looked over he would immediately look away. You couldn’t help but remember the feeling of his lips on yours, soft and inviting. But you couldn’t go down that road, not yet anyways. You weren’t coming to help Bucky and Captain Rogers for nothing. To you, there were only two things you needed to do.
First: Help Bucky heal. He wasn’t wrong when he said the two of you were the same. Manipulated and abused, forced to do awful things to the people you love, tearing you apart bit by bit from the inside. He had a chance of being able to function without worry again, and you’d be damned if you weren’t going to help him in any way you could.
Second: Use Captain Roger’s information to take down the rest of Hydra. He may think he knew all of Hydra’s moves, but if Malick could run a completely off-the-books, psycho, Hydra god-worshipping group of crazy people, than so could anyone else. Hydra needed to die. Permanently.
Of course none of your intentions were bad, no. However, you were not prepared for the whole series of questions into your background with Hydra and your sense of urgency in taking them down. Between the whole ordeal with Ward and the Centipede Project, then the whole ordeal with Tripp’s death, which would no doubt sink into a soft spot with the two Howling Commandos, then with your mother and father, and then Hive and Lincoln, one stair after another on the 20 story spiraling staircase that had become your life was a lot. A lot that you didn’t have time or energy to explain. It would be easier for everyone if you just took down Hydra yourself.
Of course you could hack in and steal the information, but figuring Captain Rogers was a bit of an old fashioned kind of guy, you figured there was definitely some form of hard-copy documents detailing some important Hydra agendas.
By the time you’d finished daydreaming deep within your mind, the SUV pulled into the small parking lot of the compound. Way off the beaten path, like way off, stood the facility where Bucky had been kept in cryo for the last week. It was a beautiful building you had to admit. It reminded you of Stark Tower, just more sophisticated. It was a sizable, sleek, modern building, with lots of windows letting in the natural light. It stuck out like a sore thumb with the lush and dense forest in the background, but at the same time it made total sense for it to be there.
You were ushered in quickly, not wanting to draw unwanted attention, from who is still a mystery, but mostly because the rest of the compound still wasn’t convinced that you wouldn’t destroy them all. Once you walked in the door a woman came up with handcuffs that looked a lot like your gauntlets, asking respectfully if you’d put them on. At first you wanted to say no, but you couldn’t blame them for being scared, you were a monster, they had a right to protect themselves.
After putting on the cuffs, the three of you turned the corner, where you ran straight into a wall of pure muscle. “Hello Agent Simmons, Agent Johnson. It’s nice to finally meet some of the members of Coulson’s team.” looking down at you with kind, blue eyes was none other that Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. You thought you’d heard Jemma gasp but you weren’t sure you were breathing either. He sure did make an impression on people.