RAMBLERUMBLE

Cid’s parlor is more crowded than usual. Music plays overhead, another one of Cid’s jukebox mixes. There’s a general sense of merriment in the air but Hunter cannot find it in himself to acknowledge it as he sits at the bar nursing his drink. None of the team can.

Tech and Echo sit in a booth in the back of the room while they look over the Marauder’s hyperspace transponder that had been damaged. Wrecker and Omega sit on opposite sides of a Dejarik board. The game is nearly finished, its completion signaled by the sound of Wrecker groaning in defeat. A minute passes before Omega appears beside Hunter at the bar.

He notices Omega casting glances at him from his peripheral vision. She looks like she wants to say something, but stops herself.

“What is it, Omega?” Hunter asks, turning in his seat to face her.

“I didn’t want to keep pushing before because you didn’t seem ready to talk about it.” Omega pauses. her expression is one of trepidation. “So I asked the others…but they wouldn’t tell me much.”

“About what?”

Omega takes a quick glance around the room, making sure there aren’t any curious eyes or lingering ears. She says your name. Barely above a whisper, but Hunter hears it. “Who is she?”

“She’s someone I care about very much.”

Hunter sighs. He knew this moment would come eventually. The kid is curious by nature. It’s a trait he admires and wants to nurture. Her innocence and need to question what she doesn’t understand challenges him to think about his own outlook and purpose in life. He wasn’t ready so soon after Scarif to talk about you, and so he had gently dodged Omega’s questions. But now, after what they had all lost, he doesn’t want to hide what he feels. He’s done enough of that in his life already.

“Did you tell her how you feel?” Omega asks.

“In a way.” His eyes jump to the necklace hanging from her neck. “But I never said the words out loud.”

“Why not?”

“It’s…complicated.”

Omega lowers her head, the thoughtful pinch between her eyebrows appears. “But does she know?”

“I think she might have before,” Hunter says. His finger traces the rim of his glass. “But now I’m not so sure.”

“Does it feel the same?” Omega’s voice is softer now. Sorrow threatens to spill out of her. “As losing Kamino?”

Hunter is silent, at first unable to answer. Kamino was their home. During the war he knew it was out there waiting for him, and when he and his brothers returned it was the most secure feeling to be able to settle down and regroup. But everything changed when he saw you. And again after the first time you slept together. A different kind of fondness crept into his heart. It was unlike anything he’d ever experienced and it caused an undeniable shift within him. He found himself wondering what life would be like with you by his side. Not just when you had been assigned to the same battlefronts. But with him and the team during missions and the long journeys it took to reach them. Then when the war ended, Hunter feared he’d see less of you. Though not in the way he’d imagined, he ended up being right.

It’s not clear to him when you became such a fixed point in his life. Your absence had always been apparent to him. When you were apart he always anticipated the next time he would get to see you again. But only now that you’ve been cleared from any map he could have followed to find you again, he concludes home can never be complete without you.

Hunter realizes he’s been silent for too long, but Omega sits patiently, watching him and waiting for his response. He decides to be honest with her.

“Yes,” he admits. “And more.”

He sees the way Omega’s face shifts. There are still more questions she tosses around in her head, but he knows she’s not ready to fully open up about Kamino either. So a silent understanding passes between them to continue this discussion at a later time.

Hunter watches Omega hop off the seat and make her way toward Tech and Echo. With another sigh he faces the bar and tosses back the rest of his drink.

The day starts like any other. You and the children eat breakfast before you go your separate ways for another day of work. The same promises to see each other in the evening are exchanged. It’s another day on Ibaar.

On the ride to the farm that morning you feel a prodding in the back of your mind. You linger on it for a moment before Gungi draws your attention to a pack of wild Ibaarian wolves. The lithe silver creatures keep your attention until they vanish into the trees, then you find yourself lost in the natural beauty of the valley.

While you work, you come to a realization that you’ve become somewhat lax since coming to Ibaar. While you do your best to stay vigilant for any suspicion that could arise from your and the children’s presence you’ve found yourselves in a steady routine. Between work and secret training in the mountains on days off, life on Ibaar has come to be as close to what life was before your exile. Part of you even starts to believe that your stay could become permanent.

You dwell on this possibility throughout the day. But it’s not until you and Gungi arrive back in town does that possibility burst into flames. The torch that ignites it comes in the form of the Imperial shuttles that fly menacingly overhead, landing in an open field at the edge of town.

Dread fills you when the ramps come down and squads of troopers emerge. They hold blasters against their chests as they march down the main road. You instinctively take hold of Gungi’s arm to pull him behind you. Others on the street have now slowed down to watch the parade of visitors line either side of the street. An officer in a grey uniform walks down the center, more troopers escorting him from behind, and turns to enter the Town Hall building.

Some of the locals stay put. But others, like yourself, have the same idea. You don’t waste time, tugging Gungi along with you as you start in the direction of home. You know the ultimatum the Imperial officer will give the mayor. Pledge allegiance to the Empire or be forcefully occupied. You’ve never met the mayor, but you’ve heard good and honorable things about her. Which means you know what her answer will be.

By the time you’re a street away from home, chaos erupts sooner than you hoped. Cries of terror start near Town Hall and quickly draw nearer.

There are others hurrying beside you down the street. You pull Gungi forward when you see the door to your home. Petro and Tara stand outside, expressions clouded with worry.

A pained cry comes from behind. You stop in your tracks, turning to see the old couple who live two doors down be roughly pulled out of their home by a trooper.

“Gungi,” your voice is laced with urgency, “Go home. Tell the others to stay inside. No one is to come out. Is that clear?”

He hesitates, voicing his concern for you.

“I’ll be fine.” You push him forward as you repeat, “Go.”

Gungi obeys you after another moment of hesitation. You watch him as he runs forward and is embraced by Tara. You hear another cry and turn around to see the old couple being forced to the ground. You immediately sprint toward the trooper, pulling him away from the couple.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks you, clearly agitated.

“Leave them alone.” You put yourself between him and the two on the ground.

“Step aside.” The trooper raises his blaster. “Or you’ll be next.”

But you don’t back down. Instead, you raise your chin in defiance.

The trooper lets out an irritated growl before he tries to grab you. But you easily dodge his reach and twist his arm behind his back, kicking the back of his knees and forcing him to the ground.

You don’t see the two other troopers until it’s too late. They rush forward and tackle you through the open door and you land roughly inside the couple’s home. You get to your feet quickly, but one trooper has an electric prod and jabs you in the side with it. You fall to your knees and are shoved backward again. Another wave of electricity shocks you and you groan, your brain becoming foggy with pain.

The troopers raise their weapons. You expect blaster fire. The searing heat of the impact.

But it doesn’t come.

You lift your gaze, almost clear of the shock. And you figure you must still be dazed because you know what you’re seeing can’t be right. The troopers are floating in the air. They flail and holler before being tossed against the wall, slumping on the ground into unconsciousness.

Your eyes trail back toward the front door where you see Tara, brow slowly releasing her concentration and her arms dropping to her sides.

You frown. “Tara?”

She holds your gaze as she walks forward. Her hands, gentle yet strong, take hold of your arms to support you onto your feet. You can’t hold back the disapproving look you give her.

“You shouldn’t have done that. You should have let them do it.“

“They were going to kill you,” Tara argues.

“It doesn’t matter. If it means you and the others are safer then that’s all that matters. That’s all I want.”

She doesn’t push further, but her eyes tell you what she doesn’t say out loud. I’d do it again.

You sigh, knowing you cannot change what has already happened. But time has become your enemy and you need to move as quickly as possible. So you shake your head before leading her out of the couple’s home and over to yours.

You’re both unaware, however, that the trooper you took down earlier witnessed the entire incident, and will be the cause for a new enemy to reveal themselves to the Jedi.

Two nights ago with Tony was all the time you had to put together an semi-stable extraction plan, a few contingencies to offset potential variables, and some ideas of where to hide out if things went horribly wrong. He couldn’t risk making a public appearance around the Compound until the time was right, causing you to return to your living quarters far later than Bucky had probably anticipated… evidenced by the cold plate and flat champagne you’d found on your bedside table; his sleeping form breathing deeply in the bed next to it.

You couldn’t bring yourself to move past the doorway; your breath catching in your throat as his chest heaved with every light snore. This moment, right in front of your eyes…

It could have been enough to break your resolve. You’d said as much…

HOURS BEFORE

"I don't think I can lie to him, Tony," you had gasped out, bracing yourself against the holodesk surface, breathless after multiple futile attempts to narrow down Novak’s murky history since you’d last encountered him, desperately searching for any clue or connection that might shed some light into just why in the hell you were caught up in this mess to begin with. The prospect of having to endure this secret alone, that the next 48 hours had to be business as usual before your world inevitably came crumbling down… “I can’t pretend like that anymore, not around Bucky, he just won’t —”

“The plan won’t work unless you do,” Tony’s voice was low, but firm. “It won’t be easy. None of this is. But Barnes has to buy it. They all have to.”

A frustrated exhale escaped your lips as you tried to keep it together. Hearing him take a breath, you resisted the urge to tell him to save the speeches. But instead you heard a clatter as he threw his smart glasses on the desk, making you look up in surprise to see him shake his head slightly. “It’s not fair,” he mournfully muttered under his breath as he rubbed his face, hands attempting to wipe away whatever thoughts were stitching his brow. “It’s my fault. I let my guard down.”

Shaking your own head, you began “Tony, no –”

“I mean, when have we ever had an extended period of ‘happy ever after’? I should have known better, had your back –”

“Don’t...”

“I don’t want you to do this.” He was pacing frantically back and forth now. “We have two days, we can come up with something else. We’ll lock down the Compound, no one in or out; shut down the servers and run on backup emergency power until we figure out who –” 

“Tony!”

“It’s not fair!” He rounded on you, his hands gripping your arms; not with force, but with such intense concern, making your heart clench within your chest. “I thought I was giving you the chance to live – really live. You deserve more than just...” Tony’s eyes glistened as he trailed off. 

“Two days.” you whispered, finishing the thought.

He was right. Your recovery had been grueling in itself, the seemingly endless distance between you and Bucky even more so. The Government’s pardon had been a shining beacon of hope for everyone to finally let out a collective sigh of relief. It was right-down cruel to force you to give all of it up now. But even worse was the terrifying thought you hadn’t dared voice out loud, until now.

“If we do this,” you began, gulping down your fear, as Tony’s hands steadied your frame. “If I go and figure this out, whatever happens –”

How would I ever come back to him?

"You leave that to me, ok?" Tony answered the unspoken question. Maybe you really were more similar than you’d care to admit. “I’ll deal with the aftermath. You play your part, I’ll play mine." His hands had lingered before reluctantly letting you go with a reassuring nod. “Let’s make these next two days count...”

And so, when Bucky’s gravel-toned whisper of “You just gonna stand there all night?” roused you back to the present – to that singular perfect moment – you forced your heartbeat to slow, turned on your best unwavering smirk, and walked over to curl up against him, saying, “Just admiring the view”.

DAY 0

The crowd amassing by the atrium had piqued Bucky’s curiosity, but it had been your voice, that tortured pleading, that made him pick up the pace. “Tony, please--”

“That’s Mr. Stark to you,” Stark’s voice carried up the third floor hallway, louder than the hushed whispers from the mass of employees standing by the railing overlooking the hall below. “You better be gone in thirty minutes, or F.R.I.D.A.Y. will literally eject you from the premises.”

He pushed through stubborn elbows and backs, some “Ow!”s chorusing behind him as he unintentionally trodded on feet, when you came into view; Stark stalking away shaking in rage. He caught a glimpse of Steve shooting a glare in your direction before following suit. He frowned. What was that about?

“Talk about a security breach,” a mumble to his left.

“Guess the Hydra wasn’t fully scrubbed off her, huh?”

It was his turn to glare at the source of the whisper, who promptly recoiled and retreated out of the Soldier’s murderous eyeline.

But the distraction had cost him. By the time he looked back, you two had barely time to lock eyes before you swept off towards the building’s exit doors.

Wait.

The words caught in his throat as he stood frozen on the spot. He tried again. Stop.

He thought he saw you hesitate for a second, the remnants of an invisible wire connecting his soul to yours. But then you were gone, and the line seemed to snap by the doors closing behind you.

It seemed to wake his feet up at last. Picking up the pace, he raced down the staircase, rushed past security guards and awestruck passersby, and pushed through the double doors into the campus grounds, squinting against the brightly lit afternoon.

A golf cart was speeding away to the west gates, you inside it, straight-backed as it jostled along, about to disappear past the tree line that led to the outer grounds. He was faster than that, he told himself.

“Buck!” Someone yelled behind him, but the voice blurred along with the grass and buildings and everything in between as he forced himself to catch up to you before you were out of his reach completely.

The trees cleared at last, Bucky panting slightly as he slowed to a jog… only to watch the gates close with a clang, and you disappeared into an unmarked van with blacked-out windows that sped away with what seemed like a fully armored guerilla escort. 

“Buck, hang on!” Steve called out, catching up to him as he turned to face his friend.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked, gesturing to the gates.

“Tony wants us all inside, he said –”

“They took her.” 

Steve paused. “What?

Bucky shook his head. There was no time to debate or discuss or listen to anything anyone had to say. He had to catch up to that van. To you. Something was very wrong and his instincts were all he could trust.

“I’m taking the bike,” he said briskly making his way towards the garage back across the west field.

“Wait, what do you mean “they took her?” Steve asked, keeping up the pace. “Who’s they?”

Bucky pulled up the overhead garage door, making his way to Steve’s modified Harley Breakout parked to the left. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.”

“Hold your horses, Mr. Freeze,” a familiar voice emerged from a side entry, catching both Soldiers’ attention. “No one else is going anywhere anytime soon, we’re on lockdown.”

Bucky glowered at Tony as he approached; expression as cold as he’d sounded back at the Atrium when he’d accused you of… something.

“You can either explain why, or get out of my way,” he growled, and Steve clapped a hand on his shoulder cutting in to avert a brawl. “Tony, cliff notes, please.”

“Seems your girl’s rehab didn’t stick,” Tony piped in, a stern look in Bucky’s direction. “We all got played. Again. Which is not my favorite pastime, contrary to what you may have heard.”

“I just saw her get hauled off in an unmarked vehicle,” Bucky shoved Steve’s hand off, pointing back towards the Campus gates. “And none of what that small army was wearing was anywhere near regulation. They weren’t SHIELD or ours, or yours.” He squared off closer to Tony, but he held his ground. Bucky had to give him credit for that. “Who were they?”

“Not that it’s any of my concern what happened outside those gates,” he replied, Bucky further narrowing his eyes. “But I would venture a guess that her new employers take security very seriously. Which is what I should have been doing, instead of running an Airbnb for every criminal runaway we meet.” His voice trembled slightly, which made Bucky start, taking a short step back.

“No.”

Tony kept quiet at that, but glanced at Steve’s crestfallen gaze. “Full lockdown, Cap.” He remained until Steve gave him a short nod, before turning on his heel.

“You’re wrong.” Bucky’s voice was low, soft. As though he was testing out the truth of those words, his confidence in saying them. Did they sound as real as he hoped they were?

Tony didn’t turn around. But he uttered a similar murmur before resuming his stride. 

“I’m sorry.”

Time was lost to you when you felt the rumble of the engine simmering down; brakes squealing as the van finally came to a halt. The thought of being caught unawares at any moment throughout the journey had awakened that old familiar adrenaline-fueled paranoia. Refusing your body’s instinct to doze off and rest, you opted instead on running multiple scenarios in your head about what might be awaiting you once the vehicle’s double doors opened up, thinking back to a classic Romanoff/Barton team-up tale they’d enthusiastically dramatized the night you’d returned from Wakanda…

DAY 4

“Tell ‘em about the disorienting! They love the disorienting, guys,” Barton prompted Nat from his perch on a countertop, sloshing the drink in his hand as she threw her head back positively cackling.

“It’s pathetic really: it’s either bags over our heads, or cars with blacked out windows, or curled up in crates where you wait. And wait – ”

“Like it’s the damn DMV or something,” Clint piped in again, as Steve and Wanda chuckled. “Then they’ll tempt you with food or drinks or just flat out throw them in your face trying to drug you, like they’ll get any answers that way –”

“Then it’s more isolation. And more waiting. Rinse and repeat,” Natasha finished lifting up her martini as though toasting to the predictability of it all. “They’ve been in such a rush the whole time that they didn’t even bother to pat you down.”

“Meanwhile, they’re spouting poetic about their evil master plan and name-dropping everyone within the vicinity the entire time!” Clint hooted, as laughs boomed around the room. “You’d think they’d change up the handbook once in a while.”

“Seems villain work’s more mainstream these days,” you’d chimed in with a chuckle.

“Not as creative as back in the day, that’s for sure,” Bucky agreed, squeezing your hand and pulling you close.

“Well, by the time they switch up the routine, they’re done for anyway,” Nat smirked. “They’d have told you everything you needed to know, and all you had to do was listen and bat your eyelashes. Just like CEOs, right Tony?,” she directed her glance at the disheveled subject, to resulting laughter around the room

“Personality is all it takes,” Tony agreed in his usual nonchalance. “And some generational wealth, and nepotism, and a little genius sprinkled in,” he added as a chorus of groans answered. “But personality went a long way in getting out of that cave, I’ll tell you that much.”

NOW

Heavy arms dragged you out and onto your feet, finding yourself standing in what seemed like an underground tunnel, a cadre of armed guards surrounding you. Eyes narrowed, you looked around at the small army, rubbing your wrists to ease the throb of their brusque manhandling, when you heard echoing footsteps, growing louder as they approached.

"That was quite a public breakup," Novak’s voice reverberated within the darkened narrow hallway before materializing before you under the dim fluorescent lighting. He held a newspaper out to you – had it been a whole day already? – which included a blurred aerial picture of you being escorted off HQ and a bolded quote from Tony stating no love nor assets lost at your leaving. “Not quite what we had planned, though.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you were on a deadline” you shot back without skipping a beat. “Besides,” you gestured around to the armada escort around you. “Didn’t want to miss out on the welcoming committee. I’m feeling all warm and fuzzy, really.”

“I wouldn’t have bothered,” he said, stepping closer to you with a scowl, “if I’d known you’d be arriving with no prototype and Iron Man on high alert.”

“If you really thought you could pull one over Tony Stark in his own house, you’re not as smart as you think you are.” you retorted, matching his expression. You spied one of the armored men behind Novak shift in place, as though his instinct to aim his rifle at your head was too strong. Interesting.

“Besides,” you continued, “what makes you think I don’t have the prototype?”

Novak blinked. And you couldn’t help the smirk that crept on your face. Nat never misses. 

He looked over your shoulder, his scowl now positively ignited with fury. “You didn’t fucking search her?”

The guard stammered, and you heard rather than saw the rustle of over a dozen rifles pointed right at you.

Taking a deep breath and lifting your hands up as though this was the most inconvenient hold up you’d ever experienced, you fixed Novak with your steeliest gaze and said in your smoothest tone, “Relax. You of all people should know that if I wanted to blow this place to the ground, you’d be the last to know.” 

He bristled, nodding at two guards that flanked you and you felt hands searching your form.

“Right-side pocket, but I won’t complain too much otherwise,” you smiled mischievously, eyes never leaving Novak’s growing frown. It was all coming back to you.

The tiny drive you’d smuggled out the Compound was produced and handed over to Novak. He inspected it, unimpressed. “What am I supposed to do with this?” he sneered. ”Plug it into a console and all hell breaks loose? The superhero circus traces it here and rolls into town?”

You gave him only silence, and he bristled. Wow, they really did follow the book. You made a note to tell Clint and Nat when you saw them again. If you ever made it out of this.

“You have 10 seconds to convince me why I shouldn’t return you to Stark’s front steps, in bite-sized pieces, just like this,” he said, holding up the drive.

Rolling your eyes with a disappointed sigh you replied “And here I thought you’d be asking smarter questions.” He raised his eyebrows, and you proceeded, not bothering to give him the courtesy of thinking you were in any hurry.

“I burned my reputation, my career, my life – again. For you. My pardon? Irrelevant, now. You read the paper – Stark will have me court-martialed the moment he lays eyes on me, pieces or whole.”

You paused, crossing your arms, and Novak waited, unaware of the metaphorical bomb you were about to drop. “The prototype was never accessible via Stark servers. Because it was never Stark’s to sell in the first place.” 

There it is, you thought to yourself as Novak’s eyes widened.

“That nano-drive you’re holding is MY proprietary tech. As in I’m the only one who can access it.” He pursed his lips, and you knew you had him. “So I’d hold off on the slicing for the time being.”

He scoffed. “For the time being,” he repeated with a low growl.

You let the corners of your lips curl in response. “At least long enough to discuss my fee.”

Part 4: ??