Chapter Text
We stared in horror, standing in the center of the chamber looking from cylinder to cylinder where each of the other Winter Soldiers sat, bullet holes in the center of each of their foreheads. That was where the hissing sound was coming from... The yellowed tinge to the glass was not from age but from whatever chemicals had been keeping them alive while they sat there, suspended in time. Tony's hand came to rest on my trembling shoulder as we stood there, just staring at them.
"If it's any comfort, they died in their sleep," came a man's voice over a fuzzy speaker, his accent similar to Wanda's. "Did you really think I wanted more of you?"
"What the hell..." Barnes murmured somewhere to my left, his voice unsteady.
"I'm grateful to them, though. They brought you here." A light flicked on from a window that had been hidden behind a thick metal plate we had not seen, a man's face watching us through the glass. Steve turned, throwing out his shield; his aim true as it hit the glass only to bounce back toward him. We could see the man behind the glass smirk even from this distance. "Please, Captain. The Soviets built this chamber to withstand the launch blast of UR-100 rockets."
"I'm betting I could beat that," Tony mocked, his usual sarcasm not helping to diffuse the situation. Slowly we made our way around a center area with another padded chair, this one reclined, torture device-like objects still sitting on the two side tables.
"Oh, I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark. Given time. But then... You'd never know why you came." The computer beside the window he faced us from flicked on, the screen showing what I now knew to be a loading bar.
"You killed innocent people in Vienna. Framed my best friend. Tried to break us apart and for what? Just so we'd come here," Steve demanded to know of the man behind the glass as he moved closer to the window.
"I thought about nothing else for over a year. I studied you. I followed you. But now that you're standing here, I just realized... There's a bit of green in the blue of your eyes." He chuckled, his eyes never leaving Steve's face. How nice to find a flaw."
"You're Sokovian. Is that what this is about?"
"Sokovia was a failed state long before you and your band of misfit toys came and sent it to hell. No. I'm here because I made a promise."
"A promise to who," Tony imposed.
"You lost someone," Steve surmised after a moment of studying the man.
From his position of safety, Zemo sniffed, looking down at something we could not see. "My father lived outside the city. I thought we would be safe there. My son was excited," he smirked, the memory bringing him a touch of joy despite the pain that wracked his voice even through the speaker. "He could see the Iron Man from the car window. My wife... I told her, 'Don't worry. They are fighting in the city. We are miles from harm.' ... When the dust cleared... And the screaming stopped... It took me two days until I found their bodies. My father... Still holding my wife and son in his arms... And you Avengers? You went home. I knew I couldn't kill you. More powerful men than me have tried."
"Then why bring us here if not to try and kill us?"
Zemo smirked, looking between Steve and Tony, my chest tightening as I inhaled sharply and looked toward Sam and Wanda. This could not happen this way. Not now. Not here. "I lost everyone. And now... So will you." The screen flickered from a simple green holding one with a symbol I did not recognize to that of a solid black one with 'sixteen декабрЯ nineteen-ninety-one"; the word 'play' in the top left corner. I shook my head, muttering a soft 'no' as Steve turned his wide blue eyes back to Zemo. "An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumples from within? That is dead... Forever."
"Alright, Knock-Off Riddler, enough with that," Tony froze, the screen shifting to that of a road, the date having moved to the bottom left corner along with a time stamp that slowly changed with each minute of the video as it played. He looked at Steve, anxious. "I know that road... What is this?"
"Tony," Steve said gently, trying to turn him away. "Tony."
"What is this, Cap? What kind of," He paused again as the car we all knew would hit the pole did so, Barnes' motorcycle pulling back around to park as Howard Stark crawled from the wreckage just as Barnes had told us he had.
Tony stepped back, his eyes flashing toward Barnes as he heard his father say the man's name; his chin jutting upward, twitching with a combination of emotions as his mother's voice filled the air calling for her husband with increasing panic. As tears began to glisten in Tony's eyes, I felt my own slide down my cheeks as he turned, shoving Steve.
"Did you know?"
"I didn't know it was him," Steve tried.
"Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did. You. Know?" Hesitantly, Steve licked his lips and nodded. Tony whirled around, grabbing hold of Barnes, and with the propulsion of the jets in his boots sent them both sailing back across the room where he shoved him hard into a wall. He landed several punches, his metal-clad fists pummeling Barnes's face while the other man barely attempted to block. As Tony moved to land another blow, Barnes grasped his hand in his metal one, shoving Tony back and off of him. He made an attempt to scurry away, only to be caught around the ankle and flung into one of the mechanical housings of the cylinders where a dead soldier remained. "You were his friend!" Tony raged as he punched down toward where Barnes lay, barely missing as the other man rolled out of the way; Tony catching him around the throat. "Do you even remember them?"
"I remember all of them," came Barnes' defeated response as Tony squeezed harder before Sam fired a burst of shots into the back of Tony's suit. The bullets dented the metal in soft pings before falling to the floor, yet that did not stop him. Tony lifted his hand, the soft hum of his pulsar beam preparing to fire filling the air as he aimed it at the side of Barnes' head.
"Tony, stop," I cried, moving to his side and trying to pull his arm away. "This will not change what has happened."
"It wasn't him," Steve tried as well, shielding Barnes to the best of his ability. "HYDRA had control of his mind."
"Move," Tony demanded coldly of both of us, glaring as Wanda and Sam moved to block him as well.
"Eve is right," Sam told him, one arm partially blocking me. "This isn't gonna change anything."
"I don't care," Tony spat. "He killed my mom." And with that, Tony fired a laser into Steve's chest, knocking him aside as he lunged for Barnes.
Sam shot at the repulse beam in Tony's suit as Wanda used her magic to move Barnes out of the way. Behind us, I heard the heavy slip and click of the metal plating over the window Zemo had been watching from close. He was leaving... Steve's shield flew, crashing into and bouncing off the back of Tony's head as Steve leaped at him, keeping him from continuing to pursue Barnes when our focus should have been on Zemo. All I could do was shield the people I loved, stopping them from laying killing blows against one another, desperately trying to decide if I should go after him alone or not.
"Zemo's gone."
"When," Steve asked.
"He's the least of your problems right now, Rogers!"
"Tony, please," I begged, shielding the two friends with a protective dome as he fired a rocket straight at his face. "If you can forgive Loki, you can find it within yourself to forgive him."
"Loki didn't kill my mom!"
"Neither did he," Wanda snapped.
"You saw the tape. You saw what he did to my parents!"
"We did," I said, my hands coming to rest on the chest of his suit, holding him firmly back as he pointed at Barnes, hurling more light beams his way. "And we cannot change it. He cannot change it. He was not in control of himself nor his mind."
"I don't care!"
"If you do this, you will fail at keeping us together," I cried as he gripped me hard, preparing to toss me aside as well. He paused, his helmet receding after a moment. His eyes were red and swollen, the tears evident amongst the sweat as he stared at me. "You were told you needed to set your ego aside... This is a moment to do so, another moment in time where you have a choice to make."
"There is no choice-"
"There is always a choice," I sharply cut him off, shooting his words back at him.
Realization crossed his face and I swore I could hear his heart shatter. "You... You knew, too... How many of you... Sam?" Sam looked down, unable to meet Tony's eyes. "Wanda?" Wanda hesitated before shaking her head. "Wanda..."
She faltered, sighing. "I saw the accident in Eve's mind when she came to get me... She wanted to tell you. She wanted you to know before you agreed to help. She warned Steve that this would happen if you were not told, that he would be drawing a line; one she didn't think he could come back from if he went through with his plans."
Hearing her say it aloud, reminding us of the conversation was painful in a way I had not imagined anything ever could be. An uncomfortable silence befell all of us as Tony turned glaring at Steve once more. "That true?"
"He's my friend."
Tony's eyes hardened further, a feat I had not thought possible before he stepped back. "So was I." He fired another blast at the Captain, the shield blocking most of it as he dug his heels in to keep from being propelled backward.
"Eve, Wanda; get to Zemo," Steve ordered through gritted teeth.
"You need us-"
"If he gets away all of this is for nothing!"
Reluctantly, Wanda and I nodded, turning and heading out the way we'd come. We hurried down the corridors, running as fast as our legs would take us as one of the doors began to close, a yellow light above it igniting. Gathering her energy in her palms, Wanda pulled her Seiðr-like magic back, the brilliant red glow flying from her hands and into the door, blowing a hole through it with ease. We skid through it, turning fast as the lift went up, Wanda using her magic to propel her up while I opened a portal to the top of the lift where we had first entered the bunker. Standing there, clad in black, out laced with silver components, was a man, his face obscured by a mask meant to resemble that of a cat's. Pulling a dagger, the man dodged, seeming to know just how to avoid my attacks. As I slid and picked it up, the portal it had created closing, I moved to hurl it again only to watch as he spun missing it and catching my arm before I could throw another, tearing his mask off.
My eyes widened as I met his. "T'Challa."
"Eibhlin." He smirked.
"I did not expect... This."
"The Black Panther has been the protector of Wakanda for generations. A mantle passed from warrior to warrior," he clarified, pulling his mask back on. "I take it things are not going so well."
"They could be better," I admitted, pulling my daggers as the lift slid into place; empty. I glanced at T'Challa, who looked at me and then elongated sharp-looking claws from the end of his gloves as Wanda floated up. "She's a friendly."
"Another friend," Wanda enquired as she landed before us.
"You could say that. Zemo?"
She shook her head. "No sign of him."
"Someone had to activate the lift."
"It was not me," T'Challa stated seconds before gunfire zipped past our heads, Wanda and I both creating shields as T'Challa sank to the floor prepared to pounce. "There," he called, pointing across the way. Zemo stood on one of the stone steps jetting out from the wall, pistol raised as he aimed again and fired, the bullet ricocheting off the concrete wall just above Wanda's head. He turned and fled as we moved, clinging to the wall as we hurried along the narrow pathway to the stairs heading down and then back up as we neared the opposite side and gave chase.
Zemo raced through a back entrance, the snow deeper on this side of the mountain. While the three of us had little trouble, Zemo struggled, his foot sinking through what he thought was a solid patch of ice. He struggled to pull it free, stumbling as he did, a red leather book with a black star on its cover, the pages marked just like the one Barnes kept sliding from his coat and skidding across the ice and snow. He drew his gun once more, pointing it at T'Challa who stood at the centermost peak of the small triangle we had formed, Wanda using her Seiðr-like magic to lift and bring the book to my outstretched hand. The gun clicked, T'Challa raising his clawed glove as I aimed a dagger and Wanda created a massive ball of red energy in her palms; a feminine voice with the same accent as Zemo's filling the air, albeit faintly.
"Helmut. I hope you are well. Carl is very excited about his birthday. He asked again if you were going to be there. I said I wasn't sure. You should have seen his little face. Just try, okay? I'm going to bed. I love you."
"What is this," T'Challa asked as the recording came to an end.
"That was my wife," Zemo muttered, getting to his feet, gun still pointed at the Wakandan prince. "I lost someone, too."
"You think this atones for what you have done? I almost killed the wrong man."
"Hardly an innocent one."
"None of us are innocent," Wanda muttered. "That is what makes us work so well. Because we know how close we have all come to hurting more people, from being the monsters they think we are."
"You are monsters. All of you," Zemo hissed.
"No," I said. "Monsters are what people like you make us. People who look at all the good we do and can still only see something to fear."
"We can't control others' fears," Wanda told him, backing me calmly; "Only our own."
"The world will never not look upon you with contempt."
"Just as HYDRA will forever be looked upon."
He scoffed, smirking as he shook his head at me. "HYDRA deserves its place on the ash heap. The death of all loyal to it, once and still, including my own, would not bother me. When SHIELD fell, Black Widow released HYDRA files to the public alongside those of SHIELD. Millions of pages, much of it encrypted. Not easy to decipher. But... I have experience. And patience. A man can do anything if he has those."
"And two people in a room can do more than a hundred," I fired back. "I am sorry about your family. Truly I am. I am sorry we could not save them. It will be a regret I will carry alongside the lives of all that I failed to save. That is not an excuse for what you have done. For what you have tried to do."
"You think an apology is enough for what you have taken from me; others?" He laughed, lowering the gun for the first time. "The danger with people like you, like them- super soldiers and billionaires playing at being gods- is that we put them on pedestals. We make you symbols, and icons, and then we start to forget about your flaws. And from there, cities fly, innocent people die, movements are formed, and wars are fought. Tell me, Asgardian, how long before one of you starts another war; how long before your kind decides we would be better under your rule? You have more blood on your hands than either of them and yet you try to apologize as if that absolves you of your failure."
Even knowing he was baiting me, I could not stop the rage I felt at his words. That familiar ripple washed over me and I hugged myself firmly, closing my eyes to calm it. The last thing I needed was for the Cú Sídhe to take hold and for Zemo to feel more justified in his belief that we were monsters. What Loki had done had been was terrible, yet he had not been himself. While it could not be undone, he could redeem himself and he had been doing that in the eyes of not only myself but others.
"You are wrong," I said softly, rubbing my arms. "I do not apologize to absolve myself. I apologize because I have stood in your shoes knowing exactly how it feels to fail at protecting those you love, at preventing their demise. Every single one of us that you claim to be perfect, that you choose to make symbols of, has known the same pain of loss. And that is why we do what we must. To try and make it so no one else must ever feel that pain again. Perhaps that is why it is so easy to make us out to be more than we are... And why it is so devastating when we do not live up to those expectations. Because if we- with all of our skills and enhanced abilities- cannot succeed in making this world safer, better for future generations, what hope do those who are not as gifted have of doing so?"
His eyes lifted to hold mine, his jaw twitching with unspoken emotion that from the way he flexed and fisted his hands spoke of rage, fear, and reluctant acceptance. "There is no hope... And now, whatever symbol of such you thought to offer will be destroyed. And by the very hands that created it."
"Is that all you wanted," T'Challa asked, pulling his mask off once more and setting it on a snow-covered rock. "To see them rip each other apart?"
Zemo chuckled softly, the sound less amused than sad. "Like I said, I know I couldn't kill them... I am sorry about your father. He seems a good man. With a dutiful son."
"He will live because of the very people you have set out to destroy."
"And if he does not?"
T'Challa shook his head. "Vengeance has consumed you. It is consuming them... I will not let it consume me. Justice will come soon enough."
He laughed again, lifting the gun once more, his aim at me this time. "Tell that to the dead," he murmured before lifting the gun to his jaw, Wanda and I crying out as T'Challa tackled him, making sure the gun fired into the air. He wrestled him to the ground, holding him firm as the sound of helicopters and sirens grew close in the distance.
"The living are not done with you yet," the prince of Wakanda reminded him as Zemo slowly gave up the fight, accepting that he had been captured; and that his plan had failed. At least this part of it.
With Zemo apprehended and the authorities closing in, T'Challa told us to go. To help our friends and make sure they didn't kill one another after all. "I will stay behind," Wanda told me. "Go."
Hesitating for only a moment, I nodded and opened a portal to where the others were. They had moved from the room with the deceased winter soldiers to the inside of a tall silo, the top of which appeared to have been blown so it no longer opened. Barnes lay on the ground, conscious but badly injured, his metal arm obliterated just beneath the shoulder socket, the bottom two points of the red star that had been painted on the alloy missing as it sparked. Sam grabbed me from behind, pulling me back and shielding us both with his wings as Tony released concentrated repulsor blasts from both of his hands straight at Steve's shield, the light and following explosion as both of them were sent careening backward brilliant.
I pulled at Sam's arms, trying to get free; needing to make sure they were both okay. He held me firmly, my feet flying up only for him to smack them back down and continue to pull me away as I screamed for him to stop, to let me help. "This is only going to get worse, Eve!"
"I do not care, we cannot let them kill one another."
"There's no stopping either of them. You get in the middle of that you're as good as dead."
"Then I will die." Shoving my elbow back and into his face as hard as I could, I heard him grunt and cuss, his grip loosening as I raced forward as Tony caught Steve's shield and flung it aside before flipping the captain head over heels. Someone had to stop them. They were all I had, and if this was what it took, then I would not make the same mistake of hesitating as I had with Loki. I just hoped someone would be there for him if I did perish.
Sam's voice rang out, the scent of blood growing heavier in the air as I continued to hurry toward them, Tony blocking Steve's punches until he fired another blast straight at the star of his uniform. "Stay down," Tony warned, glaring down at Steve. "Final warning."
Never one to obey an order he did not agree with, Steve got to his feet, muttering about how he could do this all day, just as Tony aimed at him once more, my arms wrapping around and tugging his arm aside. The light burst hit a wall, taking a chunk of it and splintering the rest; thick, jagged bits of metal protruding from it.
"Tony, stop!" I begged tugging on him again as he and Steve threw punches at one another. "Steve, knock it-" I felt a sharp pain in my lower abdomen as Tony's heavily armored foot struck me, kicking me back with such ferocity that I flew back, colliding with the broken wall, gasping as the air was pushed from my lungs, the taste of blood filling my mouth.
"EVE!" Sam raced toward me, though everything felt as though I was watching it slowed down. I gulped for air, not understanding why I couldn't seem to take a breath when both Tony and Steve looked over; one looked horrified while the other panted for breath, a look of shock and dread on his face. I kept trying to sit up, thinking standing would make this all easier when Sam's hand firmly pressed against my shoulder. "Don't move. Just stay still."
I tried to ask why, yet with no air in my lungs it was becoming increasingly harder to focus. There was a need to cough, to try and force myself to replace the air I was missing but it was impossible to get more than a small gasp in. I could feel my chest heaving despite myself, trying not to hyperventilate and put myself in an even more precarious predicament.
Behind him, Tony and Steve watched on, bickering still over whose fault this was while Sam's hand ran up my sides and back. "Will you two knock it off," he ordered. "Is this what you wanted? To destroy yourselves and all of us in the process?" Silence as he told me everything was going to be okay, to just keep taking slow, deep breaths as best I could while tears began to slip down my cheeks. My throat burned. I just wanted to stand up, to move and stretch. I had only knocked the air from my lungs, that was why I was struggling. And cold. When had it become so incredibly cold?
"Evie... Evie, hey. You need to look at me," Tony said, kneeling in front of me, his face bloodied and bruised, just like Sam, Steve, and Barnes'. I reached up to brush some of the blood dripping from his eyebrow away only to feel a searing pain in my back. I winced, gripping his arm instead. "Friday, vitals."
"Heart rate is rapid, blood pressure is getting dangerously low, Boss."
"How much longer before a medevac is needed?"
"She's not fully human. Hard to tell, but her regenerative abilities are already working in overdrive. If you're not careful, she'll heal herself to the bar."
"Right. Wilson, help me move her."
"We pull her off of that, she's likely to bleed out."
"We don't pull her off of it, she dies."
"She might die regardless, Tony."
"You want to be the one to explain that to her boyfriend? Thor?" Steve bowed his head, moving to check on Barnes who had managed to sit up, his eyes once more focused on me; a look of fear in them. "Alright, Evie, this is... I'm not going to lie to you, this is going to hurt like a bitch, but we need to move you and you need to do your healing thing alright?"
Nodding to the best of my abilities, I let him and Sam lean me forward slowly. I was so tired... I hadn't been a moment before. As they did though, I was able to cough; a mixture of blood and foam splatting across the ground. Panic began to fully set in as I tried to pull away, Tony holding me to him firmly as they moved me; pain radiating between my back and shoulders as a sickening slurp was heard, seconds before they laid me on the ground on my side, Sam lifting my legs at the knees and setting them in his lap. I shivered, feeling my body try to regenerate, the pain worse now.
"Put pressure... Put pressure there."
"Tony, we need to get her out of here."
"She has ears... Like a dog," I heard Barnes mumble. "Why does she- Steve, what the hell is going on?"
"Shut him up, Rogers, or I will shut him up permanently."
"This isn't his doing, Tony," Steve fired back.
"Yes, it is. It's both of yours."
"Guys, fight later!"
"All this fighting," I mumbled. "And for what..."
"You shush. Focus on healing." I shook my head yet complied, too tired to argue.
"She's right, Tony... We nearly killed one another, her and Sam, and for what?"
"Your friend killed my mom," Tony repeated, glowering. His eyes fell toward the bloodied Barnes. "Just get him out of my sight."
"Tony, I-"
"No," he stopped whirling back around his finger pointed firmly in Steve's face. "You don't get to speak to me. You don't get to look at me. We are not friends. We are not family. You made a choice and now we all have to live with it. You don't deserve to carry that shield. My father made that shield." With a blank expression, Steve unlaced the shield from his arm and dropped it to the ground before turning and walking over toward Barnes, helping him to his feet. "You might want to hurry if you're planning to run. Ross and his men should be here any minute to make final arrests; if they're not already. Wouldn't want your friend getting caught up in another mistaken identity thing. Pretty sure there's no statute of limitations on murder when there's new, clear-cut evidence."
"They're already here," I managed, sitting up some and leaning against Sam; my head spinning. "Wanda and T'Challa are there... We got Zemo..."
"One less thing to worry about, I guess," Tony muttered, reaching out and lifting me as if I weighed nothing when we both knew that was not at all the case. "You, young lady, are benched. We get back to the compound it is nothing but relaxation and sleep for you."
"I will be fine," I promised, still feeling woozy; my back and shoulders still killing me.
I spared a glance at the wall I had hit. A jagged bit of twisted metal dripped blood onto the already extensive puddle beneath it. Gingerly, I reached back and touched the hole in my back, my armor torn there now as well. I thought back to when I had been gifted my armor, how Heimdall had told me it had been imbued with Bifróst crystals to make it stronger and to create a natural forcefield around me for protection. Since my training and participation in the bouts in particular, I had begun to notice that my armor did not offer me the protection it once had. As Tony continued to carry me out of the bunker, I tugged a dagger from its place with a wince and hiss, dragging it along my arm. I watched, waiting for the familiar rainbow shimmer yet nothing washed over the leather on my left arm. I took a break, the dagger feeling heavy for the first time ever, my head pounding, before I tried it on my shoulder and the left side of my chest. As I moved toward my torso, the shimmer returned and I sighed. It seemed that the treatment done to the leather, once the armor had been damaged by the Aether three years ago, had slowly lost its properties. I sighed, having always loved this armor, yet perhaps it was time to consider a new set.
As we came out of the bunker into the fading light of the slowly setting sun over the snowy mountains, Wanda and T'Challa hurried over. Wanda smoothed my hair, doting on me like Hlíf would have had the Asgardian Kitchen Mistress been there to see the state I was once again in. T'Challa simply patted my shoulder as Tony continued to walk me past everyone to the Quinjet that still waited; no sign of Steve or Barnes' anywhere.
"Captain Rogers," T'Challa asked as Tony laid me down on a cot Sam pulled down from just above the seats on the left side of the jet.
"He's decided to retire," Tony muttered.
"I am sorry to hear that."
"No big loss. We're still a team. He failed pretty spectacularly."
"Did he," T'Challa asked, a hint of worry in his voice. He nodded at me once more before turning and leaving. For the first time, I saw a look of true, honest regret cross Tony's face.