Imagine If You Assembled The Avengers: Volume 2

I Could Do This All Day (Rogers/Stark/Barnes): Civil War Trailer #2 References

"Stay down. Final warning."

Steve panted, blood running down his cheek, his body beginning to fail him under the tremendous fatigue of fighting Tony in his Iron Man suit. With a slight tremor but full of determination and resolve, he raised his fists in front of himself and swayed slightly.

"I could do this all day."

Steve jolted at the sound of a weapon being armed, bringing himself to attention. Tony turned to see Bucky behind him, holding a large rifle with flawless aim, ready to strike for the kill. "You don't want to do that," Tony warned, shifting the aim of his repulsor to Barnes while keeping the other trained on Rogers. "You can't win this."

"Move."

Tony's hand wavered slightly and he cocked his head to the side, not sure of what was happening. "What did you-"

"I said move."

Stark looked from Bucky and to Steve, realizing that he wasn't aiming at him, but at his friend. He kept his hand raised at each man and didn't move. He didn't put it past them to try to trick him, and he wasn't going to move even an inch until he knew what was going on. Steve took a single step to the side so that he had a clearer view of Bucky, but not so much movement that Tony would react.

"Buck, what's going on?"

"You're my mission."

Steve's face dropped and his skin turned pale at those words; words he had heard before when Bucky was under HYDRA's control in D.C. The Soldier's eyes were dark and hollow, looking at him without the recognition that he had known only a few moments before. "Tony, you should go."

"I'm not leaving."

"Stark, this isn't something you want to mess with, okay?" Steve replied, now holding the shield defensively in front of him in one hand, the other raised before him to try to keep Barnes back. "He doesn't want you. He's programmed for me."

Tony lowered his arms and took a step back, shocked at the turn of events. His mask opened, watching the two with wide eyes that were building with fear. He was never going to kill Steve, only incapacitate him so that he could bring him in to the authorities, and now in the face of the Captain's possible murder, he grew protective of his former friend.

"Steve," he said quietly, moving to stand next to him with his arm raised at Bucky, the sounds of his charging repulsors filling the space around them. "This is too much to do alone."

"So now you're on my side?" Steve snapped. "I thought this is what you wanted? Me out of the picture once and for all."

Bucky shook his head a few times as if trying to remove thoughts that he didn't understand. "Stop talking," he commanded, trying to blink his confusion away. "You're my mission," he murmured to himself, "my mission..."

"Out of the picture, yeah, but not like this," Tony said with his voice lowered to a whisper. "Cap...Steve...please do what we need to do here. He's not your friend right now. You can see that, right?" When Steve remained silent and looking away, Tony sighed and shook his arm as if he were entranced. "Steve, please tell me you get that."

"Buck, you're my friend," Steve began, shaking Tony's grip off and moving forward, the shield still in place. "Your name is James Buchanan Barnes, remember? I don't know what's happening right now, but you were here just a few minutes ago. I'm your best friend, and you're mine."

Bucky squared his shoulders and set his jaw, pulling the rifle into place and taking aim. "You're my mission," he growled, pulling the trigger with a quick snap. The last thing Steve would hear was Tony screaming his name, and his final sight that of his friend, watching with satisfaction as he fell.

"Steve?" Tony asked frantically, ripping away his helmet and the shirt of his uniform. "Steve, come on. Don't do this." When he couldn't see his chest move, and when he rested his hand on the Captain's bare chest, he felt no beat. Tony's breaths came rapidly and uneven now, with a pain in his own chest beginning to spread. "It wasn't worth it," he mumbled in a cracking voice. "It wasn't worth it."

Tony angrily raised his gauntlet and fired with the highest power he had, his face filled with rage and a loud yell exploding from his chest. Bucky flew solidly against the far wall, slumping to the ground as his weapon fell away. Tony charged forward and grabbed his shirt, lifting him into the air and over his head. "He was your friend! He believed in you when no one else did! He trusted you!"

"Steve?" Bucky gasped, suddenly filled with the realization of what he had done, freed from the trap within his mind. "Put me down!" When Tony released him into a heap on the ground, making no effort to set him down gently, Bucky ran to his friend's side and cradled his head in his lap, tears flowing freely and falling onto Steve's dusky and cooling skin. "Oh, god, what did I do?"

Bucky bolted up in his bed, covered in sweat and panting frantically, his pillow shredded within his metal hand. "Steve," he breathed, looking around the darkened room, trying desperately to orient himself to where he was. His hands ran over his face and into his hair, trying to calm himself from the nightmare that had woken him. "Where did that come from?" he asked into the empty room.

Except that it wasn't empty.

"Do you see?"

Bucky startled and sat straighter, reaching urgently towards the weapon in the table next to the bed. "Who's there?"

"Do you see now what will happen if this fighting continues?" Wanda replied. "You must put an end to this."

"You put that in my head?!" he hissed, standing and rushing towards her. "You did that to me? You stay the hell out of my head, Maximoff!"

Wanda took a few steps back as he closed in, her eyes glowing a familiar red and a swirl of matching color grew within her hands. She only wanted to warn him in the only way he would understand; she didn't want to have to defend herself in a fight that she knew she could easily win. "I needed you to see. This was the only way."

He shook his head and raised his fists into the air as if to strike out at her, but dropped them just as quickly in defeat and frustration. The image of Steve lying in his arms wouldn't leave his mind, replaying over and over in a torturous loop. "Can you take it away?"

"No, I'm sorry," she sighed, keeping a keen eye on him in case he should raise his fists again. "But I had no other choice. It will fade."

Reluctantly backing away, he lowered himself onto the bed, leaning forward to hold his head in his hands. The images wouldn't lessen no matter what he tried to think of. How could he tell Steve what he had seen? Would he believe him? Would it make a difference? What if this was unavoidable and he now was cursed to watch the moments tick by until he murdered his best friend? He wanted answers from her, but when he looked at Wanda, all he could see was her remorse and her fear of him.

"I wish I had never met you."