I remain quiet, mulling over my own thoughts as our convoy continues on. So far the men I incapacitated have remained so. This gave me a chance to rummage their persons and find the keys to my cuffs. I have no idea how to get the bracers off without electrocuting myself so I don't dare. I stick to just removing the handcuffs before replacing the key on the guard. I gently kick the removed cuffs under Bucky's timeout box so they can't easily be grabbed.

Bucky hasn't said anything else, he's just stared at the far wall and out the two small rectangular windows at the tops of the doors. Once or twice I've cast my own gaze towards them with eager expectation, only to find we're still moving. Barnes said I was out for a few hours, which means wherever they're taking us is probably in western Europe. I'm not sure how far west or exactly where for that matter. I just know I'm sitting in an armored vehicle at the mercy of a government who frowns upon people bestowed abilities and has an intense hatred for Steve's best friend. I don't bet on a fair trial for any of us, should we even get one. I mean, as Rhodey said, we are all criminals now. We're at the mercy of the law and will be having repercussions for our actions. Oh, and I've just sorta assaulted four government agents so there that too.

I heave a quiet sigh and lean my head back before staring at the ceiling. I almost feel like I'm getting car sick. It's probably due to the lack of windows and all the sharp turns the driver of the truck is taking. That and I already was sick to my stomach knowing the fact that this was exactly the thing General Ross was giving us a lecture on four days ago. "How's your arm?" A murky voice questions. The inquiry prompts me to look down at the wound, complements of T'Challa, and furrow my brows. It's been wrapped in what was once a pure white cloth. However, it's now stained crimson. The cloth is held together by a small pin.

"Throbbing, painful, and hopefully not infected." I murmur. I dare not try to take a peek at the wound in fear that if I try, it'll open back up. "How're you?" I lift my gaze and cock a brow at him. Bucky's brows furrow as he adopts a thoughtful look. It appears to me that he's never really been asked the question. He probably doesn't even know how to respond.

"I'm alive." He finally states. It makes my heart feel like it's being stomped on. The fact that he considers being alive as an appropriate response feels like I've just been stabbed in the thigh with a rusty fork.

"Are you...hurt?" I try to clarify, hoping to get a better insight into his condition. He seems to fade into the recesses of his mind yet again as he tries to come up with an answer.

"I'm alive." He once again states. I give him a sympathetic smile before sighing softly. I decide it's best if I don't push further. I mean, it's obvious he's not alright. He's sitting in a container in an armored car being taken somewhere unknown to the two of us. I can only guess he's internally freaking out.

When the truck abruptly jerks to a halt, I have to throw out my hand and grab the corner of Barnes' container to keep from toppling over. I hadn't even realized the change of lighting from a natural one to a fluorescent one. We're either in a garage or underground. I'm not sure yet. I look at Bucky with wide eyes before forcing myself to my feet. I carefully step over to bodies and head towards to two doors at the back of the truck. I cautiously peer through one of the windows. I confirm my thoughts of being underground and take note of the dozens of guards circulating through the area. "You gonna be alright, Barnes? Or you want me to make more of a mess?"

"I think I'll survive." I cast him a quick look over my shoulder before I nod. My eyes dart to two guards, unaware of what had occurred on the ride here, as they approach the truck. A smirk blooms on my lips as I prepare for a dramatic entrance. As the doors are jerked open, the two men look up in horrified surprise at the scene: one ex-Avenger standing over four bodies with an apprehended convict in a container behind her, completely unsupervised.

I stand firmly on my left leg and balance my right foot on my toes, my knee bent, as I lift my hands into the air in a dramatic display. The two guards shuffle to aim their weapons at me. "Surprise!" I cheer in a chipper tone before hopping out of the back of the truck. I land firmly on my feet. Everyone in the immediate area stops what they're doing to gawk. "Алло мальчиков!" I broadly grin at the many persons in the vicinity. My eyebrows then furrow. "Wait, that's Russian." I state. "Hallo jungen!" I correct myself before gently patting the guard to my left on the shoulder. His eyes are wider than saucers as he watches me saunter over to where Steve, Sam, and T'Challa are exiting their truck. I can hear him quickly shuffle after me.

"Iris?" Steve questions incredulously.

"Heeeey Steve." I give him a toothy grin as I come to a halt in front of him. Behind me, I can hear the armed man also shuffle to a stop.

"What...?" He trails off, his eyes turning towards the truck I've just abandoned. A new wave of guards swarms it, removing the unconscious bodies from within.

"Oh, that." I look over my shoulder and past the frightened looking man intensely watching my every move. "There may or may not be four unconscious persons being removed from the back of my ride here." I state as if it's the most normal thing in the world. When I return my gaze back to the trio standing in front of me, Steve looks like an exasperated father, Sam looks like he's ready to burst into laughter, and T'Challa is...I don't know. It's either impressed or suspicious. He's rather hard to read because he's got this resting bitch face, let me tell you.

Finally, the dam breaks and Sam lets out a sharp snort before lifting one hand to rest across his mouth. I fire him an amused smirk. Steve's attention shifts and I once again look over my shoulder. They're removing Barnes' container from the back of the truck. Before any of us can do anything stupid, the guard behind me gives a curt nudge with his weapon in the direction he wants us to move. The four of us obey without a problem. We walk towards a short man with light hair that's dressed in a gray suit. He's standing next to the blonde that I remember from the coffee shop. She's the one who gave us the file and lead on Bucky. Behind them are more guards decked out in black and green tactical gear. "What's gonna happen to him?" Steve questions as we walk.

"The same thing that outta happen to you." He curtly says. "Psychological evaluation and extradition." On his lips is a faint smirk. I'm incredibly tempted to reach out and smack that look right off of his face.

"This is Everett Ross, Deputy Task Force Commander." The tall blonde introduces the man.

"And lawyers?" I inquire, lifting a brow at the man as I cross my arms squarely over my chest.

"Lawyers. That's funny." He smiles like I've just told him a funny joke. "See their weapons are placed in lockup." The man commands the guards standing behind him. "We'll write you a receipt." Everett says snarkily. Oh ho, I'm so glad I don't have to rely on weapons.

"I better not look out the window and see anybody flyin around in that." Sam threatens as they take his wings.

"And you, I heard you made quite the mess on the way here. Perhaps you should be held in a similar situation to your friend." Ross nods in Barnes direction after speaking to me. I glance at the shorter man coldly.

"Sure, if you want me to let everybody know your men are rather incapable of keeping their prisoners in containment and not to mention and barbaric -- threatening to tase them with cattle prods just because they didn't like one's tone of voice and physically assaulting them when they speak under their breath. Yeah, how would that sound? I bet the news would have a field day with that." I threaten with a stoic expression. I see the gears working in Ross' mind. He shakes his head firmly.

"Forget it." I only smirk triumphantly when he turns away from us. Sam follows the man after shooting me a wink. The rest of us shadow Sam's actions. As we walk towards the elevator both Steve and I cast one final look at Bucky, who looks royally freaked out now. But in a low-key way.

"He can handle himself, Steve." I gently pat my commander on the back.

▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁▁

"You'll be provided with an office instead of a cell." Everett declares as we walk across the glass-enclosed walkway that stretches over the river below. "Now, do me a favor and stay in it?" He questions. Although his question does sound more like a command. From behind the General, I stick my tongue out childishly and catch Sam looking at me as I do so. He faintly smiles. Guards completely surround us as we walk, their boots thunderous.

"I don't intend on going anywhere." T'Challa says. I vaguely hear him speak, but my eyes are trained on the red-headed Natasha. She seems to be waiting for us. When we get to her position she begins to walk next to Steve.

"For the record, this is what making things worse looks like." The ex-assassin comments.

"He's alive." Steve fires back without looking at her. I faintly smirk. Everett continues to guide us through the labyrinth of hallways until we come to what seems like a command center. There are many people inside watching and monitoring screens. Placed directly in the middle of the large room is a glass-walled office.

"No. Romania was not Accords-sanctioned." My eyes drift to Tony, who's on the phone with someone. "Colonel Rhodes is supervising cleanup." Stark continues.

"Try not to break anything while we fix this." Natasha commands as she power walks forward after Everett, T'Challa, the guards, and the blonde friend of Steve's.

"Consequences? You bet there'll be consequences." Tony snaps into the phone as he gets out of his chair and turns to face us. "Obviously you can quote me on that because I just said it. Anything else?" He continues to speak to whoever's on the other end of his conversation as he takes a few steps towards us. "Thank you, sir." He hangs up and shoves the phone in his pocket.

"Consequences?" Steve asks Tony once he's off the phone. I lift a brow at the billionaire.

"Secretary Ross wants you both prosecuted." He motions to Steve and Sam before looking to me. "And he wants you transferred to an insane asylum." Stark says seriously.

"Probably not a bad idea." I say casually while shoving my hands into my pockets.

"Had to give him something." Stark shrugs at Steve before turning away from us.

"I'm not getting that shield back, am I?" Rogers asks.

"Technically, it's the government's property. Wings, too." Natasha says as she and Tony begin to walk away.

"That's cold." Sam replies as he shakes his head slowly.

"Warmer than jail." Stark fires back.