Reality in Motion

reunions

Q decided whoever was driving the van was deliberately hitting every pothole. She was jostled against Steve's shoulder each time, wincing in pain. With the adrenaline wearing off from what happened on the causeway, a steady throbbing sensation was beginning to take over. She was acutely aware of her wrist injury, other minor injuries from the car crash and the way her thigh was pulsing from the bullet wound.

Everyone in the van was silent, obviously all processing what just happened. They were handcuffed: Steve had been locked into some sort of bigger, sturdier metal cylinders in an effort to have him be more secure, but she assumed that he could easily break out of them if necessary. Natasha looked like a ghost and was very well on the verge of passing out from the amount of blood streaming from her shoulder wound. Sam was glancing at the two STRIKE team guards who had been assigned to watch over them and their gear. She could tell that he was figuring out the best possible way to take them out. But he wouldn't do anything - not with Steve staring blankly at the floor of the van.

No one could've known who the man with the metal arm actually was, least of all Steve. But she did know that he was already blaming himself for not figuring it out sooner. It was written all over his face. She hadn't seen that guilty look in a while. It was different than the others, like it was specifically for Bucky: guilt mixed with longing.

"It was him." he finally spoke, eyes unblinking as he stared at the floor of the van, "He looked right at me like he didn't even know me." his voice was heavy, laden with the guilt that he had been bearing for over seventy years.

"How is that even possible?" Sam spoke up, speaking for everyone and asking the question that was on everyone's mind, "It was, like, seventy years ago." With everything that Steve had told her about Bucky - about what happened to Bucky, she couldn't even begin to come up with an answer. Or maybe she could if her brain wasn't muddled with pain.

"Zola." Steve picked his head up, thankfully coming up with the answer, "Bucky's whole unit was captured in forty-three. Zola experimented on him. Whatever he did helped Bucky survive the fall. They must have found him and..." he trailed off, looking over at Q, who was barely able to keep her eyes open. She didn't have the words to fill in the blank - they weren't coming to her.

"None of that's your fault, Steve." Natasha pointed out, voice monotone and filling in for what Q was supposed to say. But even with her vision blurring, she could see that he didn't believe her.

"Even when I had nothing, I had Bucky." he admitted, attention returning back to the spot in the ground. There was a new brick of guilt settling on his shoulders, as if he didn't already carry enough guilt from not saving Bucky. Now, he had to deal with the fact that if he had saved Bucky, he never would've become the person - the assassin he was today.

"We need to get a doctor here." Sam suddenly snapped out, glaring at the two guards that were assigned to their vehicle, "If we don't put pressure on that wound, she's gonna bleed out here in the truck." he pointed out, almost aggressively. She wasn't sure if he was talking about Nat or her, but either way the aggressive tone he used was as if he thought his tone would be enough to make them listen. Instead, all it accomplished was making one pull out their cattle prod and pointing it at him.

After a tense moment of electricity crackling, the guard quickly turned and shoved the cattle prod into the other guard sitting next to them. She, and the rest of them, jumped in surprise. The electrocuted guard slumped over, unconscious, while the other pulled off the helmet.

"God, that thing was squeezing my brain." Maria Hill's voice got her attention. She squinted, as if that would help her see more clearly. Why was Maria sitting in the van with them? Was she dreaming? She glanced across the van, seeing that her fellow rogue agents were just as surprised as she was.