STEVE SPENT THE next hour or so staring down at his hands despite the landscape passing by him outside the window. His normally striking blue eyes were downcast, the sparkle in their charismatic depths gone from sight. "How did you find me?" He asked softly, keeping his voice down so as to keep Wretton from hearing.

"Believe it or not," Sam cleared his throat, "it happened on accident." When he received the expected look of confusion, he added, "Elda struck a deal with Everett Ross."

He jerked his head to look at me, where I was hiding my blush. "But...you can't make deals with the CIA."

I shrugged. "I wouldn't call it a deal," I explained, "and it wasn't even my doing. Ross came up with it. He said that since we both want to bring Bucky back to the US, he'd offer his services to help it happen." I gestured to Wretton, who lifted a hand to wave.

He shrunk in his seat, and I could only guess that he looked exactly like he did before he received the super soldier serum all those years ago. He was curling back into himself, returning to the person he used to be before all this shit happened to him.

It reminded me of Bucky, and I had to look away before I felt the tears roll to the surface.

Steve shrugged, accepting it. But then he nudged Sam and whispered, "The CIA wants to take Bucky in and lock him away for good. You guys are idiots if you think this is gonna work."

Thankfully, Cara stepped in and decided to answer, despite whatever feud, or weird friendship thing they had going on. "Hey, Captain Crunch," she said in a dry tone, "don't worry about it. We know what we're doing. And if that means tying up Agent Red somewhere on a deserted island and leaving him for dead, then we'll just have to make that sacrifice." She glanced at Wretton with an apologetic smile. "Sorry, Red."

I was becoming increasingly uncomfortable with the fact that we had a CIA agent, directly connected to Ross, that was driving us to our desired location, wherever that was. According to him, we still had to meet up with one other agent.

As the hours went on with no rest, I became more and more afraid that all he was doing was driving us to a federal prison on a long lost island somewhere in the Bermuda Triangle, leaving us where we would never be able to find Bucky.

Wretton waved a dismissive hand, slowing for a red light. "No offense taken, Cara," he sighed, making me raise an eyebrow at his relaxed tone and the use of Cara's first name. "I knew you guys would never trust me."

"You want to lock Bucky in a cage," Sam argued, and Steve grunted in agreement.

"He's not an animal," I voiced my opinion. "He's a human being, and a tired one at that. If you think he likes doing this, that he likes being used by other people for mass destruction, you're a complete asshole. It's not his fault that Hydra but his brain in a blender." My voice had begun to get progressively louder and I was leaning forward, but I only noticed it when Sam pressed a hand on my shoulder, gently pushing me back into my seat.

Our driver nodded. "I know. But you have to understand, not everyone at the CIA is a robotic, emotionless prick."

"You are," Cara interrupted pointedly.

But the look Wretton gave me in the rear view mirror made me think otherwise, even if it did strike me as odd for him to look directly at me. "I'm hoping with the next few weeks, or however long this takes, that you will begin to understand that I'm not. I've been in the Agency for years, and after awhile, you begin to pick up on some things. Like regaining the humanity I lost for longer than I care to remember."

Sam adjusted in his seat. "Don't play the pity card, man, it's not gonna change anything. We want Bucky free, you don't."

"You over-generalize everything," he insisted. "You never look at the little details."

The car fell silent. Steve had gone into his own thoughts, Sam looked at his hands in confusion, Cara was tapping her fingers on her knees and probably zoning out already, but I just stared at the back of Wretton's head. What he'd said struck a chord with me, but I wasn't sure I really trusted my mind to figure out why.

||

We'd been on our tense little road trip for nearly five hours, headed to a place that Wretton refused to disclose, no matter how much Cara tried to trick him.

"Fine," she huffed at some point, loud enough that it jerked Sam and I awake from our light and uneasy dozes. "If you won't tell us where we're going, then I'm just gonna talk your ear off." It was such a Cara thing to do that in anybody else's mind outside of this car, it might have been viewed as childish.

Wretton looked as if he wanted to smash his head into the steering wheel. "Haven't you been doing that for the last five hours?" He asked, audibly exhausted. "I'm sure a nap would do a lot of good, for you and me both."

She gave him a dry laugh. "Yeah, good try, Red. Why don't you start talking and answer some questions we have?"

"We have questions?" I mumbled, my voice rumbling out of my chest lowly. "Since when?"

Cara whirled her head to me and hissed, "You know, questions about Hydra?"

I blinked to keep my eyes open, stretching as much as I could in the seat. "Oh, I've got one," I announced, and Sam chuckled. "Do we have a rest stop coming up? A girl's gotta pee, and I'm supposed to be getting my period soon, so I might want to buy some tampons."

Sam was used to my openness about my menstrual cycle, so he just rolled his eyes, much like Cara did. Steve and Wretton, on the other hand, we not so accustomed to this kind of talking. Steve shifted uncomfortably, shooting me a wide-eyed look of concern, and Wretton visibly gripped the steering wheel tighter, clearing his throat awkwardly.

"Uh, there's one in the next...fifteen minutes?" He estimated. "Everyone can get out and stretch, and you can get your...supplies."

I nodded. "Much appreciated, Red." Instead of a scowl, there was a small grin of amusement that graced his face.

"Not quite the kind of questions I was hoping for, Elda," Cara drawled, putting her feet on the dashboard again. "Whatever, it looks like I'll have to do everything myself. Again."

Sam cut in. "What else is in that file about Hydra?" He asked tentatively. He didn't expect to get an answer in return.

He didn't. "That's classified," Wretton answered as if reading from a script.

"And you say you're not a robotic, emotionless prick?" Cara snickered. "Yeah, right."

Wretton shook his head, opening and closing his mouth a few times before announcing, "Oh, screw all." He reached up a hand to loosen the tie around his neck that seemed to be suffocating him. Once it was loose enough for his comfort, he started talking again. "It's not that I can't tell you—well, I can't—but it's more about the fact that I don't know anything about that file."

"What?" I said in disbelief. "Bullshit."

He shook his head. "Honest. Not one agent or officer knows everything about everything that's going on in the CIA. I only know the pieces of information that I'm given and that are needed to complete the task I'm assigned to."

I was confused, and didn't mind showing it. "But if you're assigned with getting Bucky back, shouldn't you have that information? We clearly don't have it, and we have no way of getting it unless someone with the CIA lets us in on your secrets."

"I'm telling you the truth. I don't know anything else about the Hydra file besides what Ross told you when I was in the room." He turned on his blinker and proceeded to go up a ramp that led to a rest stop. "If it isn't clear by now, I'm taking you to someone who does know more about the situation. They might be able to help us." He stopped the car and turned to face us. "I'm going to go to the bathroom, and I'm trusting you guys not to steal the car and go it alone for the rest of this. It wouldn't be wise, with the information I just told you."

"That was information?" Cara grumbled, opening the car door and stepping out onto the pavement. "You need to work on your definition of valuable information, Red."

I opened the door and felt my muscles pull as I was finally able to stretch out my legs, standing on shaky feet. "I'll be right back," I told the group, trailing Wretton until I got to the women's restroom. I picked up a box to tampons just in case, and went back outside to see Steve looking a little bit more like himself, fortunately.

His shoulders were back and his chest was forward with the usual air of confidence that followed him around. "How much longer?" He asked Wretton when he came back, keeping his arms crossed in front of his chest.

"Only a few more hours," he said, adjusting the shirt he'd changed into. He tossed his folded suit and tie(a most questionable decision, but whatever) in the trunk. "But don't worry. It'll be well worth it."

Cara groaned. "I changed my mind. I want something to eat. Want something, boys?" She asked, eyeing Steve warily. They both nodded and the three of them went in together, looking like a lost band of friends that had spent years apart. Well, I supposed that's exactly what they were.

I took a spot beside Wretton, leaning against the car. "You really don't know anything?"

He gave me a sidelong glance, that said, seriously? "I'm telling the truth, Miss Reid. I don't know anything else. We'd practically be going in blind, if Director Ross hadn't given me the tip to meet up with our new assistance."

"Oh," I nodded, though I was no less anxious. "Alright. What's this mysterious person's name?" One look from him made me regret asking. "Fine, whatever," I rolled my eyes, "it's classified."

The silence laid its curtain over us for a few moments before Wretton spoke up, though softly. "I wish I could have..." he began, but trailed off in uncertainty. "I wish I knew the kind of love you have with Barnes," he said, looking at the ground beneath his feet. "To believe so strongly in someone so broken that you fail to see any other side of history that tells you he's doomed."

I chose not to comment on the fact that he was basically telling me that this rescue mission was for naught. Instead, I asked, "Why don't you? I mean, why don't you have that kind of love?" I gave him a once-over. He was at the age where kids could have easily been in the picture, along with a happy wife and perhaps even a dog.

But the sad look that fell on his face answered my question. "I could have," he admitted. "But I gave it all up for this job. I love the work more than I loved people." He shifted his feet. "Asking myself to make that choice had been the easiest thing I'd done. But that was almost thirty years ago." He lifted his head to look at me when he added, "Ask me that same question today, and it'd be a lot harder to answer."

"I wish my brother could have had that." It surprised even me, the words blurting out of my mouth before I could herd them in and swallow them back down, locking them in the box that held all the things I'll never say out loud.

Wretton peered at me, his eyes narrowed in question. "You brother. What was his name?"

My voice was quiet as I answered, "Cade." It felt as though I was selling his memory to some random stranger on the street.

"Ah, yes," he nodded inquisitively, "the Reid boy. He was good at his job. Very good."

I noticed our three companions walking out of the rest stop, Cara's hands full with bags of whatever junk food she decided to buy(with what money, I wasn't sure). Quickly, I asked, "What did he do? I never got to read the reports."

My former guard frowned. "You know I can't tell you that, Elda."

A sigh left my lips, and I stood up straight to open the door and get back in the car. "Right. Sorry. It was worth a try, I guess." I climbed into the vehicle and buckled my seat belt, waiting for Sam, Cara, and Steve to get back in.

Wretton followed suit, starting up the engine. He turned around to look at me, but then decided against it and kept his eyes trained on the arm rest of his seat as he said, "I'm sure, you'll get answers soon enough."

Cara whistled as she opened the door and clambered into her seat. "Look what I found," she hummed, holding up a large bag of Cool Ranch Doritos. She pointed to the image on the bag that depicted the one and only Iron Man. "This is what I call valuable," she said to Wretton, who cocked a lazy eyebrow.

"I don't want any," Steve said dully, taking a sip of the drink he'd bought in the store.

If it was even possible, Cara rolled her eyes so far that I could only see the whites of her eyes. "You're kidding, right?" She groaned. "It's a fucking Doritos bag, and you can't even eat them 'cause it's got a picture of your ex-boyfriend on it?"

"He's not my—" He said sharply.

"Oh, whatever, Uncle Sam," Cara shrugged, "that whole situation was a breakup, and you know it."

He grumbled in his seat and ignored her comments, though I caught him staring at the back of her head with a sort of wonder in his eyes at times. It seemed that whatever happened to those two was still very much on Steve's mind.

As the car began moving again, and I gratefully accepted some food from Sam beside me, I felt myself slipping into my thoughts again, as I began to do more and more often. I wanted answers for so many different things, and even though Wretton seemed positive I would get them, I wasn't sure it was possible for anyone to answer that many questions. I was positive that I would never get the answers I craved. Not for a long time, at least.

||

heyyyy, how did you like this chapter? i actually really like wretton, so if you don't, you can suck my dick he's a great and complex character

i feel like this story is way more of an original story and it just barely connects to the mcu timeline, but i can't decide if that's a good or bad thing.

hahahha that stony moment at the end was a random and impulsive thought that i decided to add, hope you enjoyed it.

anyway, i'll see you on thursday with chapter 14!

august 26, 2019