The Viper || BUCKY BARNES [2]

14 ― Airport Battle

2016 ― Berlin, Germany

The cramped car sat in the shadow of the underpass, quiet except for the hum of the engine. Steve stood a few feet away with Sharon, their voices low as they spoke, the tension between them finally breaking when they leaned in and kissed. Inside the car, Holland sat by the window in the back, wedged between the cool glass and Bucky's shoulder. The space between them wasn't exactly generous, and Bucky was stiff, trying not to brush too close.

"Can you move your seat up?" he asked Sam, his voice neutral but hopeful.

"No," Sam shot back flatly, without so much as a glance over his shoulder.

Holland had to turn her face toward the window to keep from laughing out loud, but the quiet shake of her shoulders gave her away. Bucky sighed, but he shifted anyway, sliding toward Holland until their bodies touched. She looked over and offered a smile, warm and soft, and he returned it, that familiar flicker of comfort lighting up his features. He wrapped his arm around her and leaned in, letting himself settle for the first time all day. Holland sank into him, her head tipping just slightly toward his chest, feeling a moment of calm that she hadn't had in days.

But then her eyes lifted and caught the sight of Steve and Sharon locked in a kiss. Her eyebrows rose, and a smirk crept across her face. "It's about damn time," she muttered, drawing a laugh from both Bucky and Sam.

When the kiss ended and Sharon walked away, Steve turned back toward the car, only to find all three of them—Sam, Bucky, and Holland—smiling at him like proud siblings. Steve shook his head, chuckling, and walked to the trunk to grab the gear Sharon had recovered: his shield, Sam's wings, and Holland's guns.

Later, they pulled into a parking garage, the tires squealing slightly as Steve parked a few spaces away from a white van already waiting. All four of them stepped out, tension still hanging in the air like a fog as they approached the van. From inside, Clint and Wanda emerged. The group met in the middle.

"Cap, Holly," Clint greeted with a firm nod.

"You know I wouldn't have called if I had any other choice," Steve said.

"Hey, man. You're doing me a favor. Besides, I owe a debt," Clint replied, glancing back at Wanda as she came to stand beside them.

Holland stepped forward and gave Wanda a grateful smile. "Thanks for having our backs."

"It was time to get off my ass," Wanda said, and her deadpan delivery made Holland laugh. The air around them loosened, just slightly, as the pieces of their team began to fall into place.

"How about our other recruit?" Steve asked, his voice low as Sam came to stand just behind him.

"He's rarin' to go..." Clint said as he made his way back over to the van. His voice was casual, but there was amusement tugging at his features. "I had to put a little coffee in him..." he added, yanking the van's door open with a dramatic swing. The sharp slam startled the man inside awake. Scott Lang jerked upright. "...but he should be good."

"What time zone is this?" Scott muttered, blinking groggily as he climbed out of the van, disoriented but clearly eager.

"Come on... come on," Clint said, ushering him forward like a proud handler introducing a pet project.

Scott's eyes lit up the second he saw who was waiting for him—Captain America in the flesh. And beside him, just as awe-inspiring, was Holland Stark, better known to the world now as The Viper. After Natasha had dumped the entirety of S.H.I.E.L.D. and HYDRA's files into the public sphere, Holland's dual identity had become public knowledge—both the assassin brainwashed by HYDRA and the S.H.I.E.L.D. founder who'd fought beside the best of them. Morally, it was a gray area, but she'd earned her place.