OUR LIFETIME « Pietro Maximoff

17 /| we all fall down pt. 1

[chapter seventeen]

"I THINK I'M GONNA BE SICK," Savannah said, her hands clasped tightly together. The sound of distant helicopters and sirens made her heart pound. They were looking for them. The whole country must've been on lockdown by now. There was no clear way out for them anymore.

There was no going home.

"Then go be sick over there," Sam muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. They watched the unconscious Winter Soldier, his metal arm trapped under a large vice. The abandoned warehouse was filled with industrial tools. The place was dusty and dark. The smell of rusting metal was unavoidable here.

Savannah ignored his words. "What do we do when he wakes up?"

"Ask after he wakes up," Sam said, his eyes not leaving Bucky. "Are you healed yet?" He was referring to her shoulders. Those claws were vibranium—the strongest metal on Earth—Steve had informed her, and they had easily sliced her skin.

"Not enough energy." It would take a while. She needed a surplus to heal herself quickly.

Sam hummed. "What happens if you run out? You just..." He trailed off, looking at her now.

"Die?" It wouldn't be her first time. "Yeah, that's the theory."

They didn't speak for a while. Savannah's head was filled with thoughts about the future and the past. Her past had always been ominous and the truth had been a long time coming. She could feel it creeping up on her. What was she supposed to make of the girl with skin the color of pressed olives? Of the frequent blanket of deep space? For the first time, she was beginning to regret ever seeking out the truth of those memories.

She was dreading it.

"Hey, Cap," Sam called, interrupting her thoughts. Bucky was coming to, or at least she hoped it was Bucky. The man groaned, his eyes darting around the room. He looked at Steve who was approaching. Sam and Savannah stood a few feet away.

They all watched the storm of a man from where he sat on the floor. He was intimidating even with his metal arm trapped with no hopes of movement. His victims, whoever they'd been over all these years, had never stood a chance with him. She was unsure of who to feel sorrier for, or if it was okay to feel sorry for him at all.

She quick decided that it was okay to feel sorry for Bucky, the man he once was, who he still was without HYDRA's influence.

"Steve," the dark haired man said, staring at his old friend.

Steve was hesitant. "Which Bucky am I talking to?"

The man in question, lowered his head. His hair was flattened against his forehead. A small smile played at his lips. "Your mom's name was Sarah...you used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

"Can't read that in a museum," Steve said, his mouth quirking up at the corner.

"Just like that, we're suppose to be cool?" Sam asked, voice hard. He was rightfully suspicious, rightfully angry. They were here now because of the Winter Soldier and because of that psychiatrist.

Savannah frowned though. "Honestly, we can't blame him for what he's done."

"What did I do?" Bucky asked, looking at them, his eyes widened.

Steve briefly tilted his head to the right. "Enough."

"Oh, God, I knew this would happen." Bucky looked down again. "Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words." He sounded disappointed in himself.

Cap watched him. "Who was he?"

"I don't know," he breathed. Steve wouldn't take that though.

"People are dead. The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you." Steve took a step. "I need you to do better than 'I don't know'."

Bucky thought for a moment. Savannah prayed that he could recall something. She didn't know if she could take it if all of this amounted to nothing.  "He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where." He said the words slowly.

"Why would he need to know that?" Steve asked immediately.

There was a long pause. "Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier."

Savannah let out a breath.

That was unexpected. Savannah moved to release the man from the vice with no protests. Bucky watched her silently, flexing his metal arm. From this angle she could see the dried blood on his temple. He was hunched over with what she assumed was tiredness.

She moved back to where she stood, saying nothing.

Steve shook his head, moving backward and leaning stiffly onto the wall. "Who were they?"

Bucky's eyes flashed with memories. "Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum."

"They all turn out like you?" Sam was now leaning against a wall too.

"Worse."

"I am not sure how that is possible," Savannah let out with a huff.

"Trust me, it is," the man replied.

"The doctor," Steve began. "Could he control them?

"Enough."

So not really.

Steve looked around in thought. "Said he wanted to see an empire fall."

"With these guys he could do it." Bucky rubbed his hands together. "They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize, They can take a whole country down in one night. You'd never see them coming."

The three Avengers shared a look. This whole situation was turning out to be something entirely unexpected. It wasn't about the Accords anymore, if it ever was, and it sure as hell wasn't about the bombing or framing. This psychiatrist was going to set these assassins out into the world.

Chaos would ensue.

Savannah and Sam approached Steve. "This would have been a lot easier a week ago," Sam murmured to them.

"If we call Tony..." Steve trailed off.

"Maybe he would help," she said doubtfully.

Sam disagreed. "No, he won't believe us."

"Even if he did..."

"Who knows if the Accords would let him help," Sam finished, looking past them.

Savannah clasped her hands back together. "Even if they did, we'd probably get thrown in prison before we could finish asking."

"We're on our own."

There was a pause before Sam spoke. "Maybe not. I know a guy."

"We know guys," Savannah altered thinking of the retired Clint. Then she remembered: Wanda hadn't signed. "And girl."

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