[a/n: hold me]

VICTORIA SET her eyes on the scenery ahead, rural and inexplicably beautiful.

"What's gonna happen to your friends?" Bucky asked.

After a moment, Steve shook his head, sighed. "Whatever it is, I'll deal with it." Victoria clenched her jaw, tempted to slap Steve upside his blonde head. She would've, but she just didn't feel like being frozen for another 70 years or so. He was holding the world on his shoulders, forgetting he was just a god in a mortal's body. He had a heart of gold, but not (really) the muscles to match it.

Bucky's blue eyes shifted away, uncertain. "I don't know if I'm worth all this to you," the man responded after a moment. Victoria rested a hand on his shoulder, dark orbs cast on the blonde maneuvering the jet. Of course Bucky was "worth all this."

"What you did all those years," came the reply, "it wasn't you. Either of you," Steve added, his head turned as much as possible. Victoria didn't respond, only looking at the ground. The tears in her dark pants revealed her scarring skin, dirtied with dried blood and debris. "You didn't have a choice," Steve murmured.

"I know. But I did it," Bucky said softly, voice devoid of emotion. Victoria exhaled through her nose, having no idea what to say. The two of them, they shared worlds of guilt on their shoulders, a weight that would never truly be taken away. It was a conceited, selfish thought, but she knew she didn't deserve this. No, no, the girl she'd been before hadn't deserved this. She'd been heroic, brave-trustworthy, everything she wasn't all these years later.

Silence fell between the trio, before Victoria got utterly sick of it and cracked her knuckles.

"It wasn't you, Bucky. It was your body, yes, but it wasn't your mind. You were a prisoner within yourself, and you know I'm talking from personal experience," she hissed, wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders. The cool metal tingled her skin, but she didn't move away an inch.

--

The skies were white, the ground coated in snow with dark grey rock peeking through. The cold even managed to chill her, but you couldn't tell by her blank face. There had, miraculously, been a small sink in the back of the plane. Her face had been scrubbed raw, leaving her ivory shaded skin pale but beautiful. Her short, wavy locks were slicked back with water and held in a neater, sustainable ponytail.

Clouds of snow blew around the jet, as far as she could see. James wordlessly stood up, approaching the hidden, miniature armory. She caught a glimpse of the last name on the back, with a small, unseen smile. They each picked something up, Steve, when asked, only glancing at them with his signature "Really?" look.

Victoria, Bucky, and Steve stood by each other as the hatch slowly opened, revealing the shining, cloud white ground.

"Remember that time we had to ride back from Rockaway Beach in the back of that freezer truck?" Steve asked, turning his head to look at the two. "Was that the time, we spent our train money on hotdogs?" Bucky reminisced with a smile. A grin spread across Victoria's face. "You blew 3 bucks tryin' to win that stuffed bear for that redhead," Steve informed him with a smile. "I was the only one who hit the damn target," Victoria laughed, resting a hand on Steve's shoulder.

"Oh stuff it, Scott. What was her name again?"

"Dolores, you called her Dot," Steve answered. "And I called her 'the girl with a temper matching her hair,'" Victoria quipped, smile only growing at Bucky's exasperated/fond look.

"She's gotta be, what, 100 years old by now," Bucky pondered, blue eyes somewhere far away. "So are we, pal," Steve responded, resting a hand on his shoulder. "Wow, ice sure does wonders for the skin," she said thoughtfully. Bucky let out a wheezy laugh, blue eyes twinkling as they flickered over to her.

They made their way down the ramp, Victoria short enough to not have to duck. [a/n: in the comics Bucky is 5'9 making him the same height as Victoria I'm on the floor]

The snow flew up in clouds as her worn combat boots hit the white ground, more of it blasting past her from the draft. "No wonder they think Russia is a wasteland," she commented, "it is." Bucky huffed in laughter, Steve shaking his head exasperatedly-which really meant fondly. The cold was harsh on her revealed skin, frost numbing her fingers. The wind howled silently, her hair flitting around in sync with the breeze.

As they came to a stop in front of the doors, they all silently noted that one of them was ajar. "He can't have been here for more than a few hours," Steve reasoned. "That's plenty of time, unfortunately for us," she responded. Her voice was mostly drowned out by the whistling from the strong drafts, but Steve managed to hear her, signaling with a slight nod.

The trio walked in through the door, rifles heavy in hand. She knew how Bucky carried his, from decades of experience. The metal took most of the weight, his flesh hand only supporting. It was a strategy that had taken a long, long time to develop, unfortunately.

LOCATION CLASSIFIED.

The Archangel had, yet again, ended up taking a bullet for one of her comrades. The Soldier's rifle had slipped out of his hands, falling under the train to never be seen again. Their targets had, as expected, been armed, and she had been too busy trying to save the rifle that she had forgotten about herself. Bullets didn't cause much harm to her, speaking of long term injury, but she couldn't get around the pain.

Panting, she stumbled over and sat down on one of the leather cushion seats. The blood seeped through her fingers, drops contrasting against the white of the seat. It felt much too soft compared to the hard, cold cement she usually had to sit on. The Soldier came after her immediately, words and expression apologetic.

"I'm so sorry-" "Yeah, yeah, Soldier, just get the ice from that cooler up there. You need to find a damn way to hold your gun right, I know they taught you. The next bullet for you, will hit you, Солдат. Do you understand?"

The Soldier silently retrieved the ice from the cooler, as well as a towel, and came back. The man sat next to her, pressing the ice to her stomach after she lifted the bottom half of her shirt. The ice sent chills running up and down her spine, but she remained perfectly immobile. "I understand, Archangel," he murmured, blue eyes directed at the ice bag. They refused to meet her own blue, which was, at the moment, something she wasn't concerned about.

They immediately discovered an elevator, which Bucky somehow knew how to work. When asked, he had only shrugged in response. As the machine sent them underground, they stood as far away as possible. Which was barely possible, in that case, with the small space of the elevator. Victoria leaned against the metal, closing her brown eyes with a soft sigh passing through her lips.

The machine came to a stop with a thud, the cage shaking slightly. Victoria's eyes snapped open, the rings under her eyes almost matching the shade of brown that became visible. She had slept a little on the jet, and after the fall in the helicopter, but that had only been an hour in repayment of around 5 days. She should've been staggering, barely able to function. But there she stood, lips pressed in a thin line with her finger steady on the trigger.

The metal doors separated promptly, leaving Steve to lift up the barrier with his right arm.

Both soldiers lifted their guns, Bucky stepping out first, and looking out at the room aside them. Victoria, mutely walking, stood on Steve's left side while James stood on his right. The corridor was long, and wide, and as they walked the span of it her arms ached a little from supporting the heavy weapon. All three peeked in hiding spots, looking up occasionally.

A set of stairs became visible, which they automatically chose to climb. She stepped lightly, on the balm of her foot. Her jaw was clenched visibly, brown eyes wide and alert as they flickered from corner to corner.

The sound of a door opening alerted them, the three turning almost immediately. Victoria shifted herself behind Steve's shield, only her lower body, legs and thighs, open. Her back was pressed against Bucky's thigh, which could barely be felt through the thick material of his pants.

Another door slid, the sound echoing in the cavernous room. A whining, metallic sound came. "Ready?" Steve murmured, shield protecting the entirety of his body, his head being the exception. "Yeah," Bucky replied, voice thick.

The final set of doors, a fading shade of green, slowly opened. Glowing white eyes appeared, as long as the circle signature to Tony Stark's metal tuxedo. Her trigger finger was becoming itchy, knowing that the bullet would do nothing to the strong metal suit. The man strode towards them, hands at his sides. The metal helmet receded back, revealing the bearded, bruised face of Anthony.

"You seem more defensive," Tony noticed, still approaching. Steve moved from his defensive stance, instead edging closer to Iron Man. Victoria, as well as Bucky, remained with their guns aimed. "It's been a long day," Steve responded, approaching the other man. His shield was still up, stance tense as he came closer. The Archangel's body was coiled tight, leaning on the ball of her feet to be able to jump faster if needed.

Tony's eyes moved to the two people, still precariously perched on the stairs. "At ease soldiers, I'm not currently after you." Victoria sniffed. "Then why are you here?" Steve asked, not missing a beat.

"Maybe, your story isn't so crazy. Maybe." The man sucked his teeth, shifting on his metal-coated feet. "Ross has no idea I'm here, and I'd like to keep it that way." Iron Man finally settled for leaning against the teal, or at least she thought it was teal, pole. "Otherwise, I gotta arrest myself." A fleeting smile appeared on her face, gone as soon as it had come.

Steve was more open now, shield lowered to the lower half of his body. For once. "Well, that sounds like a lot of paperwork," he responded coolly. The gun was getting heavy, a strenuous weight on her not-metal arms. The Archangel was the Archangel, however, and the gun never moved even a millimeter.

LOCATION UNSPECIFIED.

A harsh, cold voice echoed in the chamber like room. "Your arm is shaking, fraulëin. Your aim, therefore, is off. Accuracy. Is. Vital," the woman growled, circling with her hands behind her back. She was taunting the Archangel, who could've killed her in a heartbeat. But she was broken, obedient. Like a pet dog, or a wild horse that was no longer all that wild. The assassin didn't even grit her teeth, instead steadying her arm as she had been told. On her forearms, were cuffs, attached to a chain that lead to cinder blocks. They hung just above the ground, swaying gently and brushing against her leg. She pulled the trigger, barely even wincing as the sound of the bullet pierced her ears.

"Good. Better. But not perfect. Do it again, Archangel. If you do not straighten up, I'm afraid we'll have to keep you awake for the whole night."

This time, her jaw clenched.

--

The next time she fired a gun, dark circles prominent compared to her pale, sickly looking skin, the bullet hit the target dead center.

Iron Man let out a small huff, a smile gracing his features. He looked painstakingly familiar, but she couldn't place where. It wasn't Hydra familiar, nor "the news" familiar. She had seen him, before, or someone who looked very much like him. A knot appeared in her jaw, brown eyes looking at the ground in uncertainty. If he really was here as a friend, perhaps she could ask him.

Steve's shield hung at his side, the blonde less defensive but definitely not open. "It's good to see you,Tony," the Captain said earnestly. "You too, Cap," Stark responded. Victoria had lowered her rifle, not wholly, but enough. Bucky's was still aimed without flaw, as to be expected. She didn't even bother with trying to convince him to put the thing down. Tony's brown eyes moved to the two people, on the stairs. "Manchurian candidate, you're killing me here. There's a truce here, you can drop it." Victoria's weapon lowered, to her side, albeit slowly. Steve turned to face his more reluctant partner [a/n: not intentional] lifting a hand in the place of giving a thumbs up. Bucky lowered the rifle, not dropping it to his side but, in a way, cradling it.

--

The party of four traveled the seemingly empty rooms and hallways. Victoria, surprisingly, took the lead, dark eyes flitting from corner to corner. The woman was light on her feet, footsteps essentially mute as they trekked on. The iron suit wasn't as noisy as she had thought, which was fortunate. Every once in a while, her eyesight would go hazy around the edges, only to refocus themselves a split second later. Whenever it happened, she hesitated in her steps, a frown appearing on her face. Bucky dared not speak, only glancing at her with furrowed eyebrows.

Being in this place, it brought back memories. Unpleasant ones, for the most part. Faint screams echoed in the corners of her mind as she looked at lost, useless objects. But that had not always been the case. Grimacing, she sharply turned away from the cluster of machines in the far corner, instead focusing on anything else present.

As they turned a corner, Victoria fell back behind Anthony as he held out a hand to cast light into the suffocating darkness. Not even her eyesight could cut through it, leaving her feeling smaller than ever. The Archangel exhaled shakily.

"I got heat signatures," Tony noted, walking slowly. Victoria glanced at Bucky, him glancing back. That couldn't mean anything good for them. As they moved further down the entrance to the larger room, Steve spoke up. "How many?" The blond asked.

"Uh... 1," Tony replied. The Archangel's resident frown only deepened at the news. Approaching closer, 6 lights illuminated yellowish tanks. The Archangel faltered, slightly, her foot landing in the wrong position as she locked eyes on each and every one. The light revealed the chairs, as well as the Soldiers in them. Victoria squinted her eyes briefly, only to step back in shock once she saw it.

"If it's any comfort, Archangel, they died in their sleep."

Victoria ignored the voice persistently, instead tightening the grip she had on her rifle. She recognised each and every one of them, from the blonde that she had slammed against the cement, to the handsome man who had shrieked and yelled in pain. She swallowed, mouth desert dry.

"Did you really think I wanted more of you?" came the words, echoing in the spacious place. She knew who it belonged to, but seeing as she also knew the other's weren't stupid, she said nothing. They all looked asleep, aside from the blood trickling down the bridge of their nose from the hole in their foreheads. She tried to look away, desperately, but couldn't. The Winter Soldiers were dead, and only one was left standing. Speaking of, James Barnes surveyed each and every tank with a vague expression of disgust. The man shifted on his feet, hands tightening around the weapon. "What the hell," he whispered, voice quiet as he turned and turned to look at the corpses. Rarely ever did she see emotions from him at a time like this, but she knew it was only a human thing. Because they were human, she reminded herself.

"I'm grateful to them, though," the doctor said. "They brought you here."

A light in the corner of her eye signaled her to automatically turn, index finger curling around the trigger. Steve launched his shield, only for it to bounce off of, what seemed to be, glass, and return to him. "Please, Captain," the doctor began, other lights switching on loudly, "the Soviets built this chamber to withstand a launch blast of 100 rockets."

"I'm bettin' I could beat that," Tony called. "Well I'm sure you could, Mr. Stark, given time. But then you'd never know why you came." Victoria narrowed her eyes, which looked wholly black in the darkness of the room. "What the hell is this," she whispered, perhaps more to herself than the doctor who really wasn't a doctor.

"You killed innocent people in Vienna just to bring us here?" Steve asked, his tone incredulous. The blonde steadily approached the window. The Captain steadily approached the chamber, shield dormant on his arm. Eventually, her friend stood practically face-to-face with the doctor. "I thought about nothing else for over a year. 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," the man said, followed by a mirthless smile. "How nice is it to find a flaw."

"You're Sokovian," Steve said, with such a certainty that Victoria believed him. Many had died in the robotic war, including some she knew. Yes, she had been there, searching for the Winter Soldier. He had gone AWOL on a mission, and has she had been sent now, she had been sent then. Recover and extract the Winter Soldier. Minimal force, no witnesses. She had found him, of course, covered in blood somewhere north of Greece. His mission had fatally wounded him, explaining the lateness.

"Is that what this is about?" Steve inquired, catching Victoria's attention again. "Sokovia was a fail state long before you blew it to hell, no," the doctor shook his head, "I'm here because of a promise." She saw Steve's head slightly shift in a nod from behind him. "You lost someone." From her point of view, she could see the doctor's eyes brim with tears. "I lost everyone. And so will you." Victoria uneasily glanced over at Bucky, whose guarded expression was faltering.

The man, the doctor, visibly turned to look at something. A screen clicked on, reading "December 1991." Mission report, December 16, 1991. Victoria shifted uneasily, lowering her rifle. She knew what had happened, but she had never thought... Never wanted it to be real. She looked over at Tony. "An empire toppled by its enemies can rise again. But one which crumbles from within, that's dead. Forever."

Iron Man's helmet had receded, revealing Tony. He briefly glanced at Steve, as well as Victoria, before looking down at the small screen. It showed a dirt road, one she knew too well to only have been there once. "I know that route. What is this?" Tony yelled, words directed at the doctor, whom remained silent. Victoria's rifle hung in one arm, the end of the barrel almost brushing against the concrete. A car came in impact with a tree, the front of it almost instantly crumpling from the collision.

A motorcycle came into view, two passengers on board. Bucky's unmistakable prosthetic glinted in the light from the fire that began under the hood. Smoke curled from the front of the vehicle, and she could almost feel it, burning the back of her throat. A trail of blue prevented it from spreading out, stinging their eyes. Bucky had looked at the floor, blue eyes only lifting to return Steve's worried gaze. His eyes were heavy, dark with evident guilt. Victoria's eyes were glued to the screen, reliving what she had done as the monstrosity she had been. The monstrosity you are.

LOCATION UNSPECIFIED.

The Archangel approached from behind the Soldier, blue eyes glinting in the firelight. Howard Stark, the target, crouched on all fours. The Soldier effortlessly grabbed the elder by his stark white hair, tugging his head up. "Sergeant Barnes," he murmured weakly, eyes straying. To her. "Agent Scott." The Archangel frowned, turning away and narrowing her eyes at the tire marks in the ground. "Howard!" A female voice exclaimed, albeit quiet. The Archangel  slowly made her way to the opposite side of the car, barely glimpsing the older woman in the passenger seat. She heard the Soldier's fist strike once, twice, before the sound of the body hitting the floor ensued. The woman called her husband's name again, louder.

The Soldier dragged the corpse to the car, setting the head on the steering wheel. The Soldier nodded at her from over the shorter car, and she only stared back, resolve weakening. She knew these people, the man had called her... Agent Scott? Everyone at home called her the Archangel, but she was.. She was an agent. She.. thought. She didn't know. No, she didn't now these people at all. It was her old self, trying to trick her, as her handlers had warned.

The assassin screwed her eyes shut, easily slipping a hand into the rolled down window. She flinched from the warmth of the woman's neck, how soft her skin was as her grip tightened. She did not open her eyes for anything, she wouldn't have opened her eyes for anything as she ended Maria Stark's life. The woman made few choked noises, before falling silent and limp in her inhumanly strong grip. Technically speaking, she had the same strength of the metal arm that the Soldier so lovingly used, but not the endurance. She quickly pulled her arm out, watching as the Soldier raised a pistol  to the hidden security camera.

She didn't move an inch, a tear slipping down her face as the feed went dead. She stood next to the man she had helped orphaned, and she knew she deserved whatever Tony Stark bestowed upon her. Because she had remembered. She had known.

Iron Man abruptly moved for the Soldier, and she automatically stuck out an arm. "Tony, Tony!"

Stark turned way from the two, who had edged closer together. Victoria blindly reached for the hand, metal or not, and Bucky didn't pull away. "Did you know?" Tony whispered, staring Steve straight in the eyes. Victoria choked back a sob, tightening her grip. She was tired, so, so tired, and she knew she wouldn't stand a chance in a fight with anyone, much less Iron Man. She couldn't even feel her left hand anymore, barely.

A tense, few moments passed as Steve tried to figure out how to answer. "I didn't know it was him," finally came the reply. "Don't bullshit me, Rogers! Did you know?" Tony asked again, the hint of anger in his words unmistakable. She couldn't blame him, she only would've hated herself more than she already did. She felt revolted, knowing she could never escape her own reality. She couldn't run from herself. That was the only thing she couldn't run from.

"Yes."

Tony pulled away from Steve's grasp, and Victoria could only imagine the pain in his eyes. The pain in his heart, knowing Steve had kept this from him. She figured that Bucky had remembered-had told him, one way or another. She wanted to shrivel up on the ground, but she held her ground instead, blue light traveling up her forearm.

Tony cast his eyes down, eyelids partially closed. She blinked for a long moment, trying to drag herself up from the tar pit of self pity. Her dying wouldn't help anyone, as much as she liked to think it so.

A sudden movement, Iron Man's blow caught Steve directly in the face. The Captain fell back, Victoria automatically lifting her hand. Tony moved for her first-good strategy, good thinking-but her ability only lasted her for so long. Tony backhanded her, sending the Archangel slamming into the floor. She winced, stumbled as she got up. Her throat was tight, stomach twisting in anxiety. She didn't want to fight him.

Tony grabbed Bucky by the throat, catching air and flying to the opposite side of the room. She held out her hands, trying to slow the descent. The force was too strong, her "magic" only softening the blow as Stark slammed him to the ground. She transported behind him, grabbing the suit by the shoulders and hauling him off. Surprisingly, it worked; she supposed she had underestimated her own strength.

It only caught him off guard for a view brief seconds, before he raised his hand, making that high pitched noise that signaled a blast to come. The shield narrowly missed her, slamming Tony backwards several feet.

With a well placed grunt, Iron Man flew into the Captain, leaving Steven on the ground. Victoria tugged Bucky up by the metal arm, the one she didn't have to worry about accidentally dislocating. "We've got to get out of here-" "Yeah," she murmured, response noncommittal as she readied herself. This, really, needed to happen, at one point or another.

Two clasps came out of an exit point on the suit, binding Steve's ankles together. As Tony wheeled around, the Archangel brought her fist up in an uppercut. Surprised by the immense pain that followed, she very much wished that she had Bucky's arm. Tony caught the Archangel by surprise, grabbing her by her shoulders and taking her airborne.

Stark slammed her against one of the tanks, and she sharply cried out in pain. The edge seemed to dig into her flesh, sending white hot pain sprouting through her back. She heard the whine of the blaster, blindly reaching a hand to catch it. She curled her fingers, watching as the metallic hand began to crumple, the light from the weapon fading. It finally cracked, and she found herself facing one of the jets hidden in the arm. "Damn it," she growled, pushing the arm to the side. The vessel careened towards the opposite wall, before exploding as it came in contact. She faintly heard herself shouting Steve's name, as he was right near the exploded structure.

More things began exploding-over her head, and the remaining 3 all watched in a cross of horror and disdain. As the beam next to them began to crumple, Tony finally dragged the two to the floor, narrowly dodging the chaotic explosions. Stark dropped her, at one point or another, and she hit the ground. Hard. She choked back a yelp, instead bracing herself on the hard ground.

Bucky was near her, somehow; he dragged her up, draping her arm over his shoulder as he lifted her up from the ground. "Get out of here!" Steve yelled, and Bucky nodded in response. His movement wasn't as fast with her leaning on him, but the Winter Soldier was nowhere near slow. Victoria distantly felt and heard the sound of a laser being fired. Bucky muttered a quiet, unintelligible reassurance as he looked for the button. Found it.

The Soldier slammed the button, looking up as the roof receded back to reveal a white sky.

Victoria's head was slowly recovering from the multiple impacts, and she blindly began trying to tug away from Bucky. He only held her tighter, making sure to not cause her any pain, as he began ascending.

It was hard, he would admit it, but Victoria was painfully underweight. Her thin, willowy frame wasn't healthy anymore, not at this point. Hell, Bucky couldn't even remember the last time he had eaten, and he had been free for months now. The woman was responsive now, in better form. She helped him over the metal ledge, her hold on the metal forearm vise-like.

Victoria peeked over the edge, grimacing as she saw Stark unsteadily fly to the ledge. "Can you teleport us there?" Bucky grunted, glancing up at the next ledge. "I'll pass out, add more dead weight," she grunted back, watching as Tony began to rise. Bucky nodded, before taking off on the ledge. His footfalls were noisy, as were hers, as she followed closely.

She cursed, loudly, as Bucky leapt across the space to the jutting ledge opposite of them. Victoria jumped after him, barely managing to catch herself. She hung by one arm, silently pleading for Bucky to help her up. He glanced at her-then Tony, who was steadily approaching, before hauling her up harshly. "Well damn," she hissed, automatically.

Tony caught them by surprise, sending Bucky flying into the wall opposite of them. And Victoria... Victoria fell, the wind rushing in her ears as she desperately tried to somehow have a crash landing.

With a pained, wordless scream, she abruptly stopped her descent. The metal of the ledge bent, the white hot pain in her arm lasting for only a few moments as she managed to haul herself back over the edge.

Tony landed on the ledge across from her, with am alarming crash, and with a twist of her hands, blue surrounded the man's arms. It was only a weak diversion, but it would have to work. She gritted her teeth, eyes narrowing as the blue started fading. And soon after, it was gone.

Victoria jumped over to the next ledge, barely dodging the blast that landed where she had been seconds ago. Her feet remaining grounded for only half a second, she leapt up to the next one, higher. The mechanical noises signalle me Tony's perpetual pursuit.

The Archangel momentarily paused, watching as both Steve and Tony fell abruptly. She shook her head with a sharp exhale, before resuming her strenuous ascent. She could get a glimpse of Bucky's arm, glinting in the white light as the hatch slowly opened. He was near the top, practically swinging from opposite ledges to the next.

I'll punch myself in the face if this doesn't work, she thought morosely, before closing her eyes and desperately praying that she wouldn't land an inch short and go over the edge. With an inaudible whoosh, the Archangel transported one last time.

"Victoria, damn it," Bucky yelled, grabbing her arm and lugging her over the edge. She only gave a weak smile in response, pulling him up as well. The two moved from ledge to ledge, Victoria grudgingly accepting Bucky's help because her legs weren't all that steady. Victoria suddenly glanced down, heard the jet before she saw it, the sound of the projectile whistling through the air. With a panicked glance, Victoria instinctively moved Bucky out of the way before the missile hit.

Victoria, who had still been hanging onto the ledge, didn't manage to hold onto something else.

The Archangel fell, again, but at the speed she was going she wouldn't be able to stop on a ledge without breaking her damned arm. She only held her breath, just barely looking down as she greatly considered breaking an arm. The ground was rushing to meet her, just like the Black Sea had been-

"I got you, Vic, I got you!"

Victoria let out an inhuman noise, looking up and meeting Bucky's blue eyes. She grasped his forearm, knowing the metal wouldn't be hurt by her vise like grip. They looked pained, yet relieved, as he quickly pulled her up. "I'm not letting you fall again," he murmured, "I made that mistake decades ago. I'm not making it again." Victoria gasped her thanks, breathing heavy. She looked over the ledge, one last time, before focusing her mind again.

Tony was rising up, the defect in his jet obvious as his ascent was unsteady. Victoria looked to her left, spotting the detached pipe. Before Bucky could ask, the Archangel shoved it in his face and he, fortunately, took it. The Soldier slammed it into Iron Man as soon as he came close enough, throwing Tony off course as he did so.

She stepped back, stunned by the blow to the nose Tony had landed. The cold metal slammed into her nose, the disgustingly loud snap of the bridge of her nose promptly signaling the blood flowing down her face. Her hands automatically flew up, trying to cover the blood but to no avail.

Tony had Bucky in a headlock, keeping her at bay while lifting his still functioning hand at her head. Her hands fell to her sides, the world tilting slightly as she silently pleaded with the Stark man. The puppy eyes could work on Bucky, almost always, but Tony was a very different story.

"Do you even remember them?"

"We remember all of them."

Tony hauled Bucky over the edge, and she, as a person, couldn't leave Bucky, so she jumped after him. Ignoring Stark's curses, she latched on tightly, fingers harshly gripping the metal. She drove her elbow into the helmet a few times - for good measure, of course, only to find herself bruised more so than she already was. Victoria glimpsed behind her, expression changing into one of panic as she witnessed Steve vault himself t0wards the falling trio. They slammed into a wall, Victoria instinctively using the big metal man as a shield. She took little of the brunt of the impact.

And so they fell, Victoria quite tired of being airborne yet still complaining as both she and Bucky landed face/back first on the hard material. "This is annoying-" "Victoria, please-" "Shh, shut up, we've got to go help Steve!"

Bucky grunted in response, her exhaling noisily, as the two rolled over to see both Steve and Tony sprawled out on the ground. By now, despite her impeccable attitude, she was sure she had broken a rib amongst other things. The ache in her nose was as sharp as ever, her eye definitely beginning to swell. Her hair tie had broken what seemed to be years ago. The woman struggled to support herself on the bottom of her forearms, but she didn't lay back down. She couldn't die, not when she had so much living to do, living with Bucky and Steve and Natasha and Wanda and even if they were criminals, she didn't give a damn. She just needed them. She lifted herself on all fours, choking back a groan as she tried to stand.

Tony, as did Steve, rose to his feet slowly but surely. Her frizzy, tangled hair covered half of her face, but the eye was just about swollen shut anyways.  The sleeves of her shirt had been demolished, save for a few measly strips of fabric.  She panted quietly, clutching her non-injured leg for support as she managed to rise.

"This isn't gonna change what happened," Steve panted, words desperate. Victoria was crouched, now, leaning on the wall for dear life."I don't care. She killed my mom."

Iron Man jetted from his former place, landing a blow to Steve. Victoria looked over, eyes searching for Barnes. He was still laying on the edge of the metal, eyes locked on Tony and Steve as they fought. "Bucky." His eyes traveled to her, dark and conflicted. At this point, she didn't care about old ties. She rarely ever had. Victoria nodded to the shield, dirtied, scratched, and currently, not being used.
-
Wholly standing, she watched as Bucky leapt, shield in hand. The Archangel followed soon after, a layer of blue surrounding her hands. The Soldier and shield slammed into Iron Man, successfully letting Steve move away. Tony sent a blast her way, her only barely managing to deflect it with the shield. Turning to Steve, she threw the object, barely dropping to her knees in time to dodge the blow Iron Man had sent. She rose again, kneeing him in the back as Steve dealt with him from the front.

They were once again wholly connected, in sync in a way that could never be understood, in a way that could only be seen.

a/n:
Listen hoes this is too long and too shitty so I'm just splitting this into two parts. I'll publish the second right after this.

pray for Victoria Scott 2k16 and me too because this is so horrible I'm sad @/myself.