In front of my salad?

"We've got morning newspapers and TVs all over the city with your friend's face front and center," Adeline muttered over her earpiece. She’d arrived in Bucharest late the night before, when the city was quiet and the news of the event was just whispers. She’d been following James Buchannan Barnes’ trail for the better part of the last year since S.H.I.EL.D. imploded and she lost her engineering contract with them. Steve Rogers put her resume on Tony Stark’s desk as a favor. The rest was history. But now, her contacts had finally been able to narrow the search for the Winter Soldier to Romania.

"It's gonna be a contest of who can find this guy first; me, you, Sam, or the Bucharest Police." She was strolling out of the alley that housed the hostel she’d called home that night, and into a busy market. "Andrei Florin. That's the name he's supposed to be going by. If he's not here, he'll probably be at the apartment... Hopefully," she didn't want to weigh the possibility of the third option. He was not at either location, and they were there for no reason. And he was fucked.

"Roger that, Agent Nest," Captain replied, voice low as he ducked into the nearest side street, two fingers pressed to his earpiece. With their Agent on the periphery, Falcon patrolling nearby, and a head start on the hunt for his long lost friend, hope clung tightly to his chest. "I'm closing in. T-minus ten— We'll make it to him before there's a scene. We have to."

-

First DC, then Canada, Alaska, Moscow, and finally Romania— the past few months were a blur of stolen motorcycles, back alley deals, and cramped freight cars. Restless days and even more sleepless nights— the cycle between blistering heat and biting cold always gnawing at the edge of his senses. That alone would have killed any normal person— now factor in the decades of commanding voices in his ear, the death rattles reverberating in his left palm, the haze in his vision, the well trodden path his feet followed as if acting on their own— Bucky — and the memories— the anger, hate, confusion—

I'm with you 'til the end of the line — Why did he say that? Why did I drag him from the river instead of letting him drown?

"Domnule? Vă pot ajuta cu ceva?" The elderly woman before him asked, brows knit as she pushed up her thick glasses. His head was bowed and his blue eyes glassy as the waves of his muddied mind slowly recessed from his body. How long had he been standing here in front of her stall?

A quiet Romanian apology slipped off his tongue easily, just as it had the moment he stepped off the barge from the Black Sea. He took a moment to pick through the fruit she’d laid out on the table, a small smile crossing his lips momentarily as he investigated each one, bantering quietly with the woman until he’d found the ones he wanted to purchase. He offered the merchant a crumpled bill and stashed a few plums into his bag. She thanked him, and he thanked her back. Normalcy.

Adeline had also fallen into the monotony of meandering around with the other civilians in the market, though her eyes were glancing around with purpose. Not enough to look suspicious, especially in these circumstances, but enough to catch sight of the news peddler staring bullets at some guy in an unassuming ballcap. He was slowly lowering the newspaper in his hands and wearing a look of such horror.

Eye contact— with the news peddler across the cobblestone street. Wavering, fearful, recognizing . The man tore out of the booth, struggling to keep his feet under him as he pushed through the crowd. And while the man fled, Bucky crossed the market, feet heavy on the road, though he couldn’t hear it with the sound of his blood rushing suddenly through his ears. He snatched up the front page news splash— SOKOVIAN ACCORDS DISASTER: WINTER SOLDIER ASSASSINATES WAKANDAN KING T'CHAKA!

The distant cry that was nearly lost in the sea of bodies: "Soldatul de Larnă— fugi— fugi!" But the crowd began to turn on each other with narrowed eyes and the buzz of concern. 

His time was up.

"I have eyes on the target," she muttered, tucking her dark hair back behind her ear and striding towards another booth. She looked at the spread of fish for a moment, before glancing up once more, and to her dismay, noticed that the peddler was now gone. And her target looked, momentarily, like a deer in headlights, gears turning, struggling to process, or maybe struggling to make a decision.

"Captain, we're compromised. I'll try redirecting back to the apartment. Are you there yet?" She looked back over her shoulder as several dozen people began backpedaling and double-taking towards Bucky.  He pulled his hood up over his ball cap and stepped off towards an alley just as Adeline reached him.

"Excuse me sir, do you know English?" She asked him forwardly, right hand buried in her jacket pocket. Her fingers ghosted along the grip of her .380. Steve Rogers trusted this guy implicitly, but she didn't. Either he was going to take off, or she would end up wasted on the pavement just like the scared civilians would predict. This wasn't really how she wanted this to go, but it was only a matter of time before the Police showed up.

"Nu, lasă-mă în pace." Language barrier or not— the message was clear: leave me alone . He didn't turn, didn't look, just continued to flee, slipping into the shadowed alley— ducking behind dumpsters and skirting through shops— lose the tail, grab the rest of his getaway pack at the hideout — Then find a place in the countryside to lay low once again.

Go. Go. Get away.

A short jog, a jumped fence, and four flights of concrete stairs later, Bucky found the door to his apartment ajar, the dingy brass handle busted. There were footsteps inside, and the slow creak of floorboards. Then, the figure darkened his makeshift apartment kitchen— Contemplating the disheveled mattress on the floor, half-broken furniture and few personal belongings. Save for the little notebook perched atop the fridge, various paper tabs peeking between the pages.

The buzz of radio in the Captain's ear: Sam Wilson. “Heads up, Cap. Austrain Special Forces, approaching from the south.” Less time than they'd anticipated to extract Bucky.

"Understood."

Steve had taken the notebook down from the refrigerator, the only thing notable enough for him to investigate. He thumbed through the book, stalling on a page filled with newspaper clippings of… himself.

Captain America froze, then, and turned slowly with the senses of a seasoned soldier attuned to the way air moves around another body in the quiet space.

Bucky. 

His gaze wavered between worry and relief as he took in the state of his fiend— all layered work clothes and dark bags under his eyes. Unarmed, tense , but unarmed— as much as he could be with a titanium limb grafted onto his body.

"Do you know me?" 

"You're Steve." Bucky's voice was barely above a whisper. Not a question. A recognition. A memory resurfacing— all the time they spent in France during the war, squatting in little kitchens like this— "I... read about you in a museum."

The ghost of a small step behind him— towards the apartment door— made the hair at the nape of Bucky's neck stand straight up. His eyes narrowed to pin the newcomer— her hand was in her pocket with the telltale weight of a gun. 

"Stand down, Agent,” Cap ordered quietly. 

"Are we sure he's not dangerous, Captain?" She asked, hand still twitching over her firearm. She knew the answer, but still stepped forward. Agent Nest had followed him all the way back, watching her target's six like his life depended on it. Arguably, it did, but the police were still minutes away when she slunk into the apartment behind him. "Sorry I followed you. I understand your apprehension. But you have to trust us— or at least trust him . We're the only ones who aren't after you for your blood ."

Bucky looked at her with a confused uncertainty, but ultimately turned his attention back to Steve. The sound of thundering boots on concrete and slamming doors on the floors below were enough to kick the soldiers into high gear.

"Guys, we gotta get going," Sam's voice cut in on their ear piece. "They're not gonna ask first, shoot later.”

"What’s the plan?" Adeline kicked the door shut behind her, as if it would do anything. The handle was broken, and the SWAT crew knew exactly where they were going, that much was clear.

"I'm leaving. " Bucky answered in a snap, shouldering his bag and snatching the journal from Steve. "I wasn't in Vienna. I'm not getting dragged into this— I don't do that kind of thing anymore—"

"They’re not planning on taking you alive to confirm that," Captain America cut him off, taking a half step forward, looking between Bucky and Agent Nest. "So unless you're prepared to take on a whole army, Buck, you have to come with—"

“ BREACH! BREACH! ” The window shattered inward as two grenades clattered into the room, right at Bucky and Adeline's feet.

"Captain, watch out!" Eyes wide, Adeline kicked both grenades between Bucky's boots, one spinning out across the apartment and into the corner, the other rolling into the kitchen and disappearing under Steve's shield with a well timed toss before it went off. The other however, detonated in the corner on the other side of the lonely kitchen table, rocking the foundations of the apartment and sending them scrambling.

"Sam, where are you?" Adeline barked with her fingers pressed to her comm, half crouching as she hurried to the broken window. "I need you to get me to the jet, this is going South fast ." Her head swam, ears ringing from the sound of the grenades going off.

" Just jump !"

Adeline glanced back towards Steve, who was shielding Bucky from incoming fire from the doorway. She was out of time. Unprotected and unsure of what was going to happen, she jumped through the shattered window and was very unpleasantly surprised to find the fire escape was a lot smaller than the ones back in America.

"Shit shit shit shit !" She teetered over the edge, and Sam swooped by just in time to hook his arms under hers and scoop her up. "Too close for comfort, Wilson, what the hell!"

"You're fine, I caught you! " Sam barked. "Hang on tight. I'll get you to the jet, and then I'm supporting Cap." 

"U-understood." Adeline screwed her eyes shut, deciding to ignore the distance between the ground and her feet for now.

The apartment building erupted in chaos— people fleeing their homes as the police swarmed like ants— shouting orders while their footfall rattled the walls. With Cap deflecting the barrage of bullets, Bucky reached back and grabbed hold of the moth-ridden sofa before whipping it at the doorway— sending the officers scattering back into the hall.

"Bought us a second— c'mon. " Bucky fell to his knees and punched a hole clear through the floorboards, retrieving a duffle bag from underneath. It contained his remaining stash of international currency, his knife, and now— his shopping bag from earlier. Can’t forget the plums.

Only a beat of silence permeated before the scream of Zipline, windows blown in by a fresh gang of soldiers flinging themselves into the fray. It was a good thing Agent Nest got out while she could. Exits blocked— there was only one way this could go— they were surrounded on all sides—

The Winter Soldier's titanium fist grabbed the muzzle of the nearest AR and wrenched it from the soldier's hands. Cap's heart nearly stopped. His voice was a plea as he bodied the next one with his shield and sidestepped a baton.

"Don't— Don't kill them!"

But before the order could even fully manifest, Bucky had already begun to swing the weapon like a baseball bat— sweeping aside foe after foe like he was batting a hundred.

“That's not me— not anymore! ” His restraint grappled with his fear as the super soldier duo spilled out into the hall, fists flying, chests heaving. Bucky's heavy boot planted on the chest of the next man and kicked his ass down to the lower landing. Their foes were all just numbers, and evidently not enough to slow the two of them down. 

Cap was still talking into his earpiece when Bucky took off, vaulting the railing and landing on the lower walkway. The police officers rolled back in fear from the wild-eyed Winter Soldier before them, his clothes partly shredded from shrapnel and gunfire. Surely, this was the end of the line for them, but Bucky had other plans. Namely, the large picture window at the end of the hall. How many times had he rehearsed this particular scenario?

Way too many to count.

"Cap, there's someone else coming in."

Adeline opened her eyes at the sound of Sam's voice over their comms.

"Someone's on the rooftop, full black... Cat suit? Hard to tell," he continued, glancing back over his shoulder a few times as he carried Agent Nest off towards her escape.

Everything happened in a matter of moments: The Winter Soldier and Captain America launched out the stairwell window to the roof of the next building, landing hard . The new adversary was not far behind, landing much more gracefully behind them. He had zeroed in on Bucky specifically, seemingly unbothered and frankly unchallenged by Captain America entirely. Their escape grew more difficult, periods of sprinting were interrupted by violence as Bucky and Steve found their way down to the streets rather brutally. All steep jumps and sloppy swings versus the black-clad pursuer sliding down rain spouts with softer landings and clean rolls.

"Jet's a no-go!" Nest's voice came over the comm, frustration clear in her voice as she and Sam landed on a building beside a freeway ramp. "Looks like Tony caught up and grounded us." Stark Industries' helicopters surrounded their jet on a nearby building. "How did they even fit all that shit up there?"

"Beats me. That means our job just got a whole lot harder," Sam added, looking back towards the direction they came from. "Can we secure a different vehicle?"

"I dunno, I can't exactly set my gear up out in the open like this," Adeline muttered, pulling out her tablet and tapping away, trying to get in contact with an ally nearby who could help them out. "Let me see what I can stir up... We don't exactly have a lot of time."

"See if you can create an opening for us. Stay on the move," Cap ordered, bashing out the windshield on the nearest idling delivery van and clambering into the driver's seat.  The choppers were hovering lower now, armed soldiers seated in the open doors. Bucky was already disappearing into traffic on a motorcycle he’d swiped while trying to dodge the Panther. "Stark's not gonna be happy when he figures out that you're hacking his network for us."

Bucky threw a look over his shoulder at his pursuer jumping across the car roofs like they were nothing. He'd lost his ball cap somewhere in the apartment— his brunette hair whipped in the wind as he punched the throttle, weaving through civilian vehicles like a madman. His whole body felt like it was on fire. His bag thumped against his back. Just when he thought he might have lost the feline freak, the sunlight cut to a dark underpass.

Sam and Nest split, the Agent banking for the stairwell and coming out on street level under the highway. 

The lines of the road rolled over and over in Bucky’s vision as he was bodied off the motorcycle. His metal arm jarred with the impact as he curled it around his head protectively. No time to stop— The human-sized claws were tearing through his clothes— No time to breathe— Piercing his skin— Bucky was back on his feet and swinging his titanium fist at the feline only for it to be caught in the black-clad palm of his assailant.

"I've got backup on the way, Cap, but I need help just outside of the tunnel under E6, north side.” Her attention was immediately snatched by the stolen motorcycle crashing dramatically over a median and Bucky’s body cocooned by his pursuer. Then the fighting. The screeching of tires as traffic came to a halt around the scuffle rang in her ears. “I can't take this guy, and I think he's got the Soldier beat."

Her eyes were drawn up by a familiar sound. 

" Aaand War Machine is here. Stark is onto us, we're overrun, " she said simply, looking down at her screen. Their backup was still outside the city. They would have to wait nearly ten minutes or meet them halfway, and with the way things were going... 

"I don't think we're going to pull this off." She gritted her teeth, tapping at her screen. One golf ball-sized drone detached from her belt and soared past, dropping two stun bugs on the cat man, causing him to throw his head back. His claws momentarily released Bucky, blue jolts of electricity rippling across his body. "But at least I can get the Winter Soldier away from that guy for a second . Captain Rogers, where are you?"

"They have you surrounded, Nest, don't try to be a hero,” Rhodey’s voice buzzed as his pulsars crackled and he hovered above the fray, flanked by descending helicopters. When his visor slid up to reveal his weathered features, Sam locked eyes with him as he, too, descended from the sky. “The Police here don't care that you were S.H.I.E.L.D."

With the screech of tires, Cap arrived on the scene, throwing himself out of the stolen van like his life depended on it— Like Bucky's life depended on it. 

And it did.

God — The voices on comms rattled in his ears with impending dread. He was so close! Bucky was already turning tail down the tunnel but the sirens echoed against the concrete at the other end— His footsteps fell short of running then petered down to nothing. He unclenched his fists, jaw set with resignation as he glanced back at Cap— catching sight of that agent from earlier at the sidelines. His head surely would have been ripped off if it wasn't for her distraction— and now it seemed she would be apprehended with the rest of them.

Cap positioned himself in the gap between the recovering vigilante and Bucky as the foot soldiers circled in with weapons drawn. The two stun bugs buzzed, falling to the asphalt beneath their feet as the War Machine descended with the crackle of propulsion fire. 

"Captain America," boomed his robotically enhanced voice, standing tall, yet not proud. The intonation never quite reached his lips. "You're under arrest by the authority of the U.N. Come quietly— Don't make this worse than it already is.”

"Bucky didn't kill T'Chaka! " the Captain yelled back, his shield arm lowering. "It's impossible— It doesn't make sense."

"We all saw the footage." A new voice from the one who had been silent during the whole ordeal. Not a feline freak. Not a vigilante.

Prince T'Challa, the one and only.

Bucharest SWAT came up behind Adeline, her jaw dropping as T'Challa removed his helmet and revealed his identity. She’d used tasers on the soon-to-be King of Wakanda . She bowed her head in embarrassment and compliance, allowing her hands to be cuffed by the Officers. Bad day. Very bad day.

"Your highness," Sam greeted as he landed down on the pavement to join his team. "Where's Tony?" He tilted his head up from T'Challa towards where Rhodey was hovering just above them. "Still off playing holier than thou while he sends others to enforce his righteous causes?"

Adeline bit her lip at his words. Bold to say just feet away from the royal son of a relevant murdered monarch. Even bolder to do so while he, too, was being cuffed and disarmed.

"That mouth is gonna get you in trouble, soldier."

"When the system is unjust, trouble— good trouble — is necessary," Cap replied as his shield was stripped from his back, voice dripping with disappointment. He didn't resist when they cuffed him and at least three pairs of hands steered him towards the nearest armored vehicle. "Thought you of all people would understand that, Rhodey."

A noble thought , but Bucky knew when he was beaten. He didn't realize it earlier when the police opened fire at the apartment, but here— now— with himself and his…allies? With all of them staring down the barrel, it was crystal clear.

"Securing the criminal— Kneel. Hands behind your back. " With the muzzle of a rifle trained at his temple, Bucky sunk down slowly, arms behind his back and he just... Accepted it. Through a rising memory, he recalled returning from a Hydra mission— the way he was stripped and hosed down like an animal. Unlike then, he didn't want to hurt anyone. Even as the SWAT descended upon him, unceremoniously yanking layers of his clothes away; denim jacket then hoodie— searching for any concealed weapons.

If they could have detached his arm, they surely would have. But they settled for pulling his hair to the side and jabbing a needle of horse tranquilizers into his neck, instead, and he couldn't help the pained grunt that made its way out of him then.

Agent Nest, Falcon and Captain America were paraded in front of him, as if to rub in just how fruitless the escape attempt had been. His vision started to swim, but he couldn't help but catch the look on the Agent's face when the muzzle was forced over his mouth and strapped behind his ears— for good measure. Nest's eyes lingered on the Winter Soldier as they subdued him. He wasn't even fighting back, was this all really necessary? Their eyes met as she passed him, and her brows knit together as his own eyes became heavy with the drugs.

She could barely tear her eyes off of him as she was shoved into the back of the armored vehicle.

"Where are we going?"

"Vienna," Agent Hill answered from the front seat. " What were you thinking , Nest?"