A/N: buckle up, guys. The rollercoaster is now boarding.

I slept. For the first time since leaving New Asgard, I closed my eyes and actually fell deeply asleep. I dreamed of being home—of Dad still being here. We got to spend time with all four of us together as a family. I helped Morgan pick out her outfit for her first day of school, and she picked mine for my last first day.

Then I woke up.

And reality pushed all the air from my chest. Dad is dead. Morgan is alone. I'm on the run—well, for a few more days at least. I know the choice makes sense. Something has to give a little.

All I can do is hope. I know the chances of me not being captured by them are quickly diminishing. Even if I was to be arrested, I'm sure they'll have a way to still get to me like they did in the raft. But I don't have it in me to keep running.

Either way, it'll break Peter's heart.

I force myself to get up. From what Sam and Bucky have told me, today is the funeral for someone close to Karli, and it's going to be our best chance to talk her down. If we can't, we're in for one nasty fight. Then again, we could be in for one anyway if we run into Walker. Since I'm sure he'd be more than happy to earn himself another medal by arresting me.

The conversation from the living room echoes down the hallway as I walk through. It seems the trio only must have recently come back from their mission to track down intel on Donya's funeral. "So, what did you find out?" I ask as I enter the living room where everyone's gathered.

"Funeral is this afternoon. Details to come." Zemo grins as he brushes past me.

I raise a brow towards Bucky and Sam, who just shake their heads. "He's holding back so we can't turn him over to the Dora."

"I thought he was smarter than to delay the inevitable." I flex my jaw and turn it over in my head. "He's got something up his sleeve."

"He always has something planned. We'll keep a closer eye on him." Sam offers, "One thing we know for sure is he won't move until he believes the super serum is taken care of."

"I know. It's what he'll do after that has me concerned." I settle on the couch with a bit of distance from both Peter and Bucky, both of whom notice and share a look over. "And he's not the only one worrying me. I at least have an idea of how he works, but there's Walker."

"Yeah, I'm not a fan." Bucky shrugs, but I had assumed as much.

Sam lets out a heavy sigh. "Nobody can live up to Steve's legacy."

"Doesn't mean it's not worth trying. It's what he wanted." I counter, "So fill me in. I've watched his interview, and before ARTI took a hit, I looked at his file. I'm gonna take a swing in the dark and assume he's riding high on a power trip?"

"Pretty much, yeah." Bucky affirms. "He seems the kind of guy who gives the orders,
but doesn't take them well."

"Which makes him a big fat liability." I dig my fingers into my eyes. "Especially since I'm currently on the most wanted list of most countries, but I'm sure he totally won't see that as a challenge—or another potential medal to earn."

"We can handle Walker. Keep him off your back as long as you need."

"So when do we head out?"

"In a few hours. If you haven't already, here's your chance to clean up while I make some food."

"Well, I'm not gonna turn down any chance at a hot shower or food that doesn't come out of a wrapper."

"Hotels that bad?" Bucky questions as I let myself mold into the couch.

The question makes a scoff bark past my lips. "When I could find one they weren't great. You'd be surprised at how many times I slept in condemned buildings or on stakeouts. I swear a bed feels weird now."

"It happens, but once you make it back home, things will start feeling normal again."

I know Sam is trying to be reassuring, but there's still the dreaded question—when if ever will that be? My legs curl up against my chest in the childish hope of protecting myself from my own fears.

It doesn't matter if there's already a ticking clock on the matter. I could go to jail, branded a terrorist, and still end up experimented on. But then I look at Peter, who is quietly chatting with Bucky like their old friends, and my hope rises back up. I have to try—for him, for Morgan, for everyone I love.

And if I'm going down, it's gonna be a fight.

Sam lowers a plate into my line of sight with a sad, knowing smile. I respond in kind and wholeheartedly dig into the meal savoring every bit. "Sam," I call once I'm finished, "know that I don't say this lightly, but you might just have become my number two favorite Avenger."

Bucky feigns offense as Sam lets out a roar of hearty laughter. "Go clean up, kid. We're gonna have to leave before too long."

I can feel the eyes of all three on me as I leave. Even worse, I can hear Peter's faint whispers echo down the hall. My chest tightens at the questions he may be asking. The last thing I want is for him to worry more than he already does.

All the thoughts of what might be fill my head so much it pounds with each racing heartbeat. Everything becomes hazy as I move through the motions until I'm so lost in it that even the hot water isn't enough to help me relax.

So I rush through. Anxiety pushing me towards whatever is coming next. It's the kind that burrows so deep under my skin that I'm itching for a fight just to have a distraction.

It comes in the form of Zemo grinning at me over the collar of his ridiculous coat. "It's time. I hope you're ready for what comes next."

The smirk on his face confirms my suspicion of his eavesdropping, and I want nothing more than to force it off. Except, I'm not the only one being chased, and my prison sentence isn't guaranteed.

"I am. You're the one who should be concerned about what's coming for them. The Dora won't let you off so easily." A smirk of my own tugs across my cheeks at the twitch in his.

I can hear it rattle around in his head through the stutter of his steps. The other three are clearly in the middle of a conversation when Zemo and I enter, the former parroting the same notice he gave me. "Peter and I will follow at a distance. Two Avengers and a terrorist tend to draw more attention than we need right now."

It's quiet between us as we slip on our coats. The kind of silence that grates like wool on raw skin. Whatever the discussion was, it must've been serious. My stomach twists into knots trying to follow my anxious train of thought.

I slip my hand into Peter's as we mentally count after the door closes behind the others. "I-um—"

Peter interrupts me, his face scrunched in worry. "You're gonna turn yourself in. Aren't you?"

I flex my jaw and nod. "Yeah. There's not much choice left, and we knew time was limited."

"Are you sure?"

"Before ARTI was damaged, there was chatter and the same people started showing up in our path. The Reapers might have a way to track me, and I can't risk your life too." I place my free hand on his cheek. "If there's anything Dad's death has taught me, it's that sometimes being a hero and doing the right things means you have to break your own heart."

"But what if they still get to you while you're in custody?"

"Then I'll fight. I'll hold on with everything in me until I can escape or you can find me." I force a smile despite the aching in my chest and rest my forehead against his. "I know you. I know you won't let them erase me, and I'll refuse to disappear. I promise."

"Okay." He whispers and takes a deep breath. "We should probably go. It's been enough time."

As we start down the path, keeping an eye on the trio ahead of us. "So, when we get home. Where should we go for our first-ish date?"

"First-ish?" He asks with a laugh.

"Well, it's only our first if we don't count all the take out dinners on patrol. You have to admit, our relationship has been rather unconventional." I bump his shoulder with mine. "Not that I mind. I'm rather happy to live in a universe where I got to be with you."

"I am too." He intertwines our hands and swings them as we walk. "As for our first date, I don't want to jinx it, so I suggest we keep it simple."

"Okay. So Thai takeaway and watch the sunset from our meetup spot?"

"Sounds perfect, and if that goes well, we can start planning something bigger."

"Like going to a theater and watching the whole movie uninterrupted."

"That would be something wouldn't it?" He laughs, but it quickly fades as he sees something ahead of us. I follow his eye to see our friends now have company. "Well, we knew we'd have to deal with them eventually."

"I was hoping it wouldn't be so quickly." I sigh and squeeze his hand. "Call me paranoid, but I have a feeling he won't believe in my innocence. I guess we'll find out soon enough. It's not like we can leave Sam and Bucky by themselves."

"Then let's go. No point in delaying the inevitable." We continue down the isolated path and duck into the same doorway the others disappeared into.

All eyes in the room snap to us, and the air is already charged. "Yeah, this is definitely gonna be a mess." I whisper to Peter.

"Who the hell are these two?" Walker questions, stepping forward like he's genuinely believes he could fight us.

I look at Bucky, "Where's Sam?"

"He went to see if he can talk her down. I'm gonna go check the hallways for any stragglers."

My eyes catch on Zemo, who's straining against his cuffs. "Glad you have enough sense to cuff him."

"And you better tell me who the hell you two are before I do the same to you."

"Yeah, that attitude is exactly why I'm not telling you who I am." I chuckle and look between him and his partner. "You could try diplomacy every once in a while. You know, honey and all that jazz."

"She's got a point, John." The other man steps in and nods as he continues, "Lemar Hoskins."

"Battlestar, right?" He nods, and I smile under my mask. "Phantom."

The whole room freezes. Then Walker explodes in my direction, another set of cuffs at the ready. "You're under arrest by order of the U.S. government." He parrots as he reaches for my arm, but I just sidestep, which sends him tumbling into the cold boiler system next to system.

"See, that's why I didn't introduce myself right off the bat, and I told you, you aren't gonna put me in cuffs." I sigh, "Despite what you believe, I'm not a criminal."

"No. You're a terrorist." He seethes and lunges again.

I keep just out of his reach and essentially dance around the room until he exhausts himself. "If I agree to put the cuffs on, will you stop doing that?"

He nods, securing me next to Zemo. "There. And soon you'll both be where you belong."

Peter rests a hand on my elbow, but it does nothing to lessen my shaking. "I'm nothing like him. If you actually paid attention, you'd know that."

"I'm afraid she's right. We're nothing alike." Zemo chimes in, and I just glare at him.

"Like I would take your word for it." Walker spits and turns to look at Peter. "What's your involvement in all of this."

"I'm a—a friend of Sam and Bucky's."

"He's got nothing to do with my mess. He's just here to help; same as me."

"I'll believe it when I see it."

"Well, to be fair, she is an Avenger." Zemo once again unhelpfully chimes in.

"Was. Past tense. All the Avengers are either dead or retired." His eyes cold eyes drill into me, "Congrats. Now you're no better than him or the Flag Smashers."

I take a deep breath, which only fans the flames burning in my chest. Yet my voice comes out calm and even despite it all. "I have a question for you, Walker. If I'm a terrorist, then what do you think makes you such a paragon of heroism? Do you even know what it means to be Captain America?"

"Of course, I know what it means. Steve Rogers was my hero."

"And he was my friend." I snap, which makes him lean on his heels—a reaction he quickly covers up. "Do you even know the story? How they chose who was going to be Captain America? How they chose him versus how they chose you?"

"They chose me because I'm a hero."

"Shiny medals do not a hero make, Walker. You would know that if you knew the first thing about the real Cap, which is surprising, since you're such a big fan. I'm sure you've read some of the countless books about him. At the very least you've visited the museum exhibit countless times."

There's a flicker of anger across his fact that he quickly hides, and I grin under the broken mask. If he's so determined to dish it, let's see how he can take it.

"I bet I know exactly how they chose you to wear that suit—to carry his shield. You see," I lean back against the boiler and pretend the cuffs aren't digging into my wrist, "Steve was chosen out of a pretty large pool of candidates. There was training, psych evals, and lord knows what else. All to see what kind of man he was.

"But for you? I'm going to take a wild guess that they pulled your military file along with a good handful of other medal recipients. Then a PR team sat down at a table and picked which one would photograph best."

Walker's fists tighten so hard I can hear the leather crackling. Peter places a hand on my arm, a silent plead to stop, but this was Walker's fight. I'm merely finishing it.

"Then I assume they brought you in for an interview in a swanky office. They flattered you, pandered to your ego, and tried to gauge how you'd respond to cameras. How would that ego read? As charm? Confidence? You had that part in the bag, but then they moved on.

"How do they make you relatable to the average viewer? Ah. Give you a sidekick. Your best friend since high school. Highlight the nuclear family angle by showing off your high school sweetheart wife and child. And you lapped it up.

"So what happens when someone questions you? When you have to choose between them and the shield? How will you handle your first critics?

"You know. Steve became who he was because—for all his flaws and blind spots—because he hated the spotlight. He used to tell me he felt like a fraud or a circus act. But I know he had an idea of what a hero could be and strived for that every day. You on the other hand, you can try all you want, but I don't see how you could ever live up to that standard."

"You better watch that mouth or I'm gonna make sure you won't be saying another word for a very long time." Walker shouts his face just an inch from mine, and I'm sure the threats would continue if Hoskins wasn't here to pull him off.

I just nod somberly. "Well, I have my answer. Sorry to break it to you, but you failed the test. Congrats, Walker, the results are in. You're just a narcissist in cosplay."

Despite his best friend's efforts to calm him down, he still has to have the last lash. "I'm really gonna enjoy watching them lock you up and throw away the key."

I can hear Bucky coming back from his patrol outside. His face twists in confusion when he sees me handcuffed right next to Zemo. "What are you doing? She on our side."

"The only side she's on is her own." Walker spits and begins pacing the room with growing agitation. "This is a bad idea."

Bucky just sighs, "It hasn't been ten minutes, John. Just sit tight."

Walker continues pacing even if it does nothing to lessen his agitation. "Don't do that." His voice comes out between a huff and sneer, "Don't patronize me."

"He know's what he's doing." Bucky reasons. His appearance is calm, but when we make eye contact, it's clear we both know this is going to blow up in our faces if we're not careful.

The match is lit when Walker huffs and shakes his head. "That's it. I'm going in." And it inches closer to the fuse as he tries to blow past Bucky, who places himself between the door and the other two.

"This is all so easy for you. Isn't it?" I exchange a glance with Peter as I phase through the cuffs. Both of us move into position should Bucky need backup, which is seeming increasingly likely as Walker continues to spit venom. "

All that serum runnin' through your veins. Barnes, your partner needs backup in there." He makes a point to look past Bucky, letting the silence draw out before he twists the knife. "Do you really want his blood on your hands?"

"Sam can handle himself. The bigger risk would be running in before he gets a chance to talk her down." I chime in, but it falls on deaf ears.

Walker's well aware that he struck a nerve. He takes full advantage of Bucky's hesitation to shove past him with Lemar hot on his heels.

"And there goes the fuse." I mumble to myself as I run after him, sparing only a glance behind me to ensure Zemo's securely handcuffed.

I reach to grab for either of them, but they pick up their pace to stay just out of reach. Each of their footsteps sound like a clock ticking down to certain disaster, and I can hear the impending explosion ringing in Walker's voice as he informs Karli of her impending arrest.

The three of us follow shortly after, but Lemar is quick to plant himself in our way, which gives Karli just enough time to shove Walker away taking Sam down in the process and make a run for it.

"If we lose them, it's on you two." I snap in their faces as I help Sam up. Bucky didn't waste any time in running after her. "We'll take another hallway. Look for her and the others."

Peter and I start off down a separate hallway, leaving the others to sort themselves out. "I wish I had ARTI to pull blueprints." I heave after the third of endless turns. "This place is a mess."

"Wait." Peter puts a hand on my arm. "I thought I heard something. This way."

"What was it?" The echo of a gunshot answers the question for me. We turn the corner to see an all too familiar stupid collared coat.

His back is to us, gun by his side and something in his other hand. Karli is on the floor in front of him, and if I were to guess solely on her panicked face, I can only assume Zemo's got the serum.

He throws the vial to the ground, stomping on the others. "Crap. She's running again." I call and ignore Zemo in favor for pursuing her up the stairs. I know him well enough to be sure he won't leave until every vial is well and truly destroyed.

Peter and I have to split up as Karli and the other Flag Smasher do the same. But it's not long before once again, their familiarity with the building proves the greater advantage.

My burner phone buzzes in my pocket with a text. "They're gone. Meet back at the safe house."

"Damnit, Walker." It takes everything in me to not break my phone or a wall.

Instead, I take a deep breath and track down Peter. "It's a wash. We need to head back and regroup."

His eyes dart all over, reading my every emotion like I'm his favorite book that he memorized ages ago. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Maybe you should. You really tore into them back there."

"So what? I was just supposed to let him arrest me? Basically hand me off to the Reapers so he can get another medal on his chest?" I know he doesn't deserve my anger, but it's spilling out of me all the same. "Cause that's all that man cares about. He'll never believe I'm innocent if he thinks my arrest will earn him something. He wears that shield without understanding the weight it carries. And did you see how he talked to Bucky? He thinks powers are something he's entitled to—another laurel to wear. But they're not.

"They're a burden. They're a responsibility to the people who are around you—to be better." My shoulders drop alongside my heart as I start navigating us out of this place, "Steve understood that."

"I miss him too." Peter whispers and grabs my hand again. "And it's a good thing you're not turning yourself in to him. Plus, the evidence is already turned over that shows you're innocent. Even someone as someone as him can't argue with all the proof we have."

"I know. I'm just—I'm scared, Pete." I search his eyes, finding reassurance in them. "There's so many things that could go wrong. I'm terrified everything I do will never be enough. What if they do get to me, and I can't—"

"No. Don't go there." He interjects, pulling me to a stop. "We agreed. If the worst happens, I'm not gonna let you disappear, and you're gonna fight. I promise," his hands cup my face and force me to look him in the eye, "I'll find you and take you on that date. We'll get Thai food and inevitably be interrupted cause there's always someone doing something stupid in New York City. We'll graduate high school and then college. Have chances to do all the stupid stuff and make mistakes and live."

"That sounds ridiculously amazing." I wish it was just more than a dream.

"I know. It's gonna be great." His thumb wipes away at a stray tear, and boy, if I'm not doomed by how much I love him. Because he makes me hope. He makes me believe that there is a chance for all that. So I nod and indulge in his smile and billing optimism until we make it back to the safe house.