Mission 2022

Chapter Three: Red, White and Silver

They were in a plane, and it was four am. At the height of Summer, the sun was just beginning to creep over the horizon, and a soft plum light pervaded the musty air. Their pilot had been heavily bribed with what little money the four had left, but, if worst came to worst, they would kill him. A slip of the tongue and their whole operation went under.

Sam sat on one side of the rickety old vehicle, full Falcon gear hidden under a black sports jacket and sunglasses. He had his head leant up against the wall and his eyes shut, but by no way was he asleep. The adrenaline - and stakes - were running too high.

Natasha sat next to Sam, recharging her widow's bites, chewing her tongue. Wanda, however, was stood, staring out the window over Central Park. Bucky could see, even in the dim light of the morning, that she was anxious about the hours to come, and wistfully remembering some happier time.

"I didn't know you had a brother," Bucky said quietly as he stood next to her, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves.
"You put on gloves like you're going to murder somebody," Wanda pointed out quite absently, then turned to look at him with sad eyes. "But yes. I'm a twin."
"Wow. I... I never knew."
"Pietro. He was a ladies' man, a bighead and a jerk."
"Sounds great," Bucky smirked to himself.

"Hydra experimented on both of us using the power of the mind stone. Instead of my telekinetic and telepathic powers, he received an increased metabolism. They called him Quicksilver."
"Scarlet and silver," Bucky smiled. She looked up at him as if she was seeing him for the first time, truly appreciating him for who he was and what he thought. As if, but maybe Bucky was hoping, with a trace of the beginnings of love.

"And here you are," Wanda whispered, stepping towards him. "The White Wolf."
"Ah... Did you mention telepathy?" Bucky asked with a feigned air of uncertainty. "Because I'm not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing right now."

He saw Wanda's tiny, mischievous smile as she advanced towards him, and the slight raise of her perfectly even eyebrows. Before he was even aware, his hands were in her hair and hers were in his; her lips tasted of cherry and were as light as a feather.
"You taste like coffee," she mumbled, and Bucky had to stifle a laugh.
"You taste better than that," he murmured in reply.

They drew apart only when Sam started coughing very pointedly and was very obviously faking it, and even then Wanda entwined her fingers in Bucky's, holding so tight it was as if she was frightened of losing this thing she had only just found. As Bucky was.

"Nice lipstick, Barnes," Sam teased, the hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Bucky immediately wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, feeling his cheeks burn. God, he hated Sam; but God, did he like, did he need, Wanda in equal measure.
"There's nothing there, Buck," Natasha interjected, almost icily. "But seriously, this is a tiny plane. We heard every single word."
"And saw everything, too," Sam added suggestively.
"Shut up, Wilson," Bucky snapped. "You're just jealous because you don't have any hair for an imaginary girl to run her fingers through."
"Ooh, such a romantic," Natasha quipped. Bucky rolled his eyes and looked back out over Manhattan; Wanda didn't let go of his hand or even really move at all.

The sun was rising over the island and cast a brilliant yellow light over the bright green trees and foliage of Central Park, and equal to its beauty was the way the young sunlight glanced off of skyscrapers that shone with white and purple hues.
"What happened to your brother?" Bucky asked, staring out over the famed city as if he could spot the speedster among the early morning masses.
"The Battle Over Sokovia, Ultron buried bullets in his chest because he saved Clint. Not even he could regenerate fast enough to survive."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. If he's alive, the only one that will need to apologise is him. And," her voice suddenly turned cold and hard, "If he knows we're on our way, he'll already be begging for forgiveness from me for the Hell I went through."

Wanda drew away from Bucky and went to arrange some detail or other with their bribed pilot, leaving Bucky feeling quite uncertain about the whole thing. Sure, he had just shared a rather passionate kiss with Wanda Maximoff, the girl he had been dreaming about and agonising over for months, but what was going on? Four questions played at the forefront of his mind: why was Pietro, if he was alive, pretending to be dead? Why did he resurface now? What had Wanda went through that was so terrible after his supposed death? And, most importantly, who in their right mind would give their life for Clint Barton?