"DOES THIS THING ever run out of gas?" 

Nat shrugged at Cara's question. "Don't ask," she dismissed, "I couldn't explain Wakanda's tech-related antics even if I wanted to." She peered out the window at the front of the aircraft, sighing. "Shuri just told me how to work it, not how to fix it."

Cara tilted her head. "Fair enough," she conceded.

We'd taken off as soon as we could, which was luckily right away. With a several hour trip ahead, it seemed our team was beginning to run out of things to talk about or do. Cara had given up on learning how to successfully throw knives as well as she could shoot a gun. That didn't mean she'd completely lost her stubbornness, though; she was still avoiding Steve at all costs. 

I guess this rescue mission was taking longer than she thought it would. She was no doubt feeling suffocated by his presence all the time. But I still didn't know why. I didn't know if I ever would. 

"I'm going to grab some food, care to join me?" I turned to see Wretton approaching me, his eyes lifted in hope. When I nodded, I could see the soft relief in his eyes. 

We walked together, leisurely, to the part of the jet that was cordoned off for food storage. Thanks to Sam's and Steve's particular intelligence about hiding from the law, they advised us not to raid the food, for we had no conceivable idea of how long we would actually be here, on the search for Bucky. 

Two weeks had gone by, and we were still going strong with the food supply, even with seven grown adults. 

I picked through the packets of snacks, opening a bag of salty chips. Sitting down in one of the chairs that surround a dining table, I cocked an eyebrow at the motionless Wretton. "What?" I asked. "I assume you want to talk about something. Spill it."

He broke out of his trance, glancing at me once before he cleared his throat and fumbled with the packet of food in front of him. Wretton began softly, "I think you're really brave, you know."

My eyebrows came together in a furrow of confusion. "Um, thanks? I'm not sure I know what you mean."

"I mean," he sighed, though it looked like he wasn't sure what he meant either, "you're...inspiring, Elda." Somehow I could hear the difference in the way he said my name this time compared to the countless others. Before, he'd only said my name because I'd asked him to, and after that it was when he was exclaiming my name in exasperation. 

Now...now it was like he was...well, saying it as a friend. 

"Huh," I chuckled, "I don't think I'd go that far, but...I'll take the compliment. Thanks, Red."

He rolled his eyes at the nickname, albeit playfully. "I'm serious."

"I know you are," I nodded, "that's all you ever are. You need to take that stick out of your ass, Red. It's starting to cause some real damage."

Wretton snorted into his food, evoking a coughing fit that had his face blushing red. "You're the first one to make me realize that," he said softly. "You remind me sometimes, Elda. Of what I could have had if I hadn't chosen this life."

I paused, letting his words sink in. "You wanted a family?"

He scoffed, smiling wistfully. "Like nothing else in this world." He sighed again. "But I was young, and I didn't realize that moving myself into this job, the ambition I would get, would leave me no room for that family." Wretton cocked an eyebrow and shrugged. "I wouldn't go back and change it, but..." his eyes held a certain kind of childish glow as he hummed, "I just wish I could have lived both lives. Experienced them both. Just for a day."

Nodding, I put down my crackers and reached out a hand. "Hey, from my experience, I can tell you that most of the time, family sucks. You have your moments, though, the ones you don't ever want to end."

He smiled gently and squeezed my hand. I didn't think I'd ever seen him look so young. Just the thought of being a father and having a family was enough to wash away all the age that he'd acquired over the years. He no longer looked like a middle-aged CIA agent, but like a young man with nearly unrealistic hopes for his future. 

I opened my mouth to say more when we were interrupted by Sam, peeking his head around the corner and whistling. "Hey, we're here. I mean, in the middle of our Bermuda Triangle-thingy." He waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever. Just get out here."

We stood, walking quietly in content back to the common area, where all five of our crew mates were waiting. Nat jutted a hip out, twirling a knife in her fingertips. Sam leaned against the wall in that way that used to make me drool like a delusional teenager. Cade was leaned over the table in the middle that undoubtedly held the map we'd used to draw our model. Cara was humming softly under her breath, in a manner so cheerful that it seemed borderline psychotic. 

And Steve, poor Steve, was pacing back and forth, shooting glances back and forth between Cara and the floor. His lips moved, but he wasn't making any noise. I didn't need to hear him to know exactly what he was thinking about. 

What they were all thinking about. Bucky. The man we all cared about, if love was too much for some of them. 

"Okay," Cade straightened up and faced the straggling group. "We haven't worked together as a team for something like this before."

"Yeah, we have," Cara protested. "For the last two weeks."

He shook his head. "This is different. I can feel that we're close." My brother looked for me to nod my reassurance. "I just know that Cerberus is right here. We're on their front door, we just have to find where to knock."

Nat shrugged. "Great. So we get out of this thing and start looking."

"Scout out first, and then come back after a few hours to make a plan of attack." Wretton seemed surprised to have contributed to the planning process, as he'd taken a back seat to all of this. But he inhaled deeply and nodded. "Yeah. That'll work. It always does."

Steve shook his head, though. "Enough with this planning shit. It hasn't worked as of late, and I'm so ready to find Bucky that I'll tear my way through the Earth's goddamn core if it means I can save him." He lifted his red-rimmed eyes to mine and sucked in a breath. "We just have to go."

"You're right," I said. "I know I've only just started learning about all this crazy mission stuff, but I don't like the idea of taking any more time. We need to get out there and search. Before..." I didn't have the heart to finish that sentence, though I knew everyone understood where my head went. 

Before it's too late. 

Sam straightened his shirt and gathered himself. "Alright, let's load up."

Everyone made their way to the weaponry and collected all of their chosen modes of attack. I picked out a handgun like Cara's, and a knife that Steve said reminded him of the one Bucky liked to use. A morbid fact about my lover, but one that I ate up without hesitation. 

Cara moved to lead the group off of the Wakandan aircraft, her head held high in confidence, each movement of her body oozing determination. But before she could reach the steps that led to the outside environment, Steve slid in front of her with his hand out, gently wrapping his fingers around her arm. "Not you," he whispered.

Her confidence ebbed out of her and was replaced with an immediate reaction of confusion and anger. "Excuse me?" She protested.

Steve kept his head down as he shook his head. "You should stay here. It's too dangerous. What if—"

Although this was a new conversation for the five of us surrounding them, it seemed that Cara had heard these words all too many times before. She scoffed angrily and ripped her arm from his grip, seething, "You're so goddamn noble all the time!"

Steve lifted his head to meet her eyes. "What's wrong with nobility?" He spoke in a deeper tone that reminded me of what I'd hear on the news reels of Captain America after a national crisis. 

Cara sighed, crossing her arms. "Nothing," she huffed, "except for the fact that it completely overwhelms you and keeps you from accepting the fact that I can take care of myself!" She leaned closer, staring so deeply into his eyes that it seemed that she'd grown a few inches, rising to meet Steve's height equally. 

He shook his head again, frustration evident on his face. There was no one around them. They were stuck in the thick of this on-going argument and nothing was going to break them apart. "The missions were getting more and more dangerous, I couldn't bear it if you—"

"It should have been my choice!" Cara was bellowing now, her voice echoing around the space. "You made me feel like a kid because you always wanted to keep me at the tower, making sure I was 'safe'! How can I be with someone who doesn't respect my own independence?"

"I do respect you—"

"Yeah?" Cara leaned back on her heels and clenched her hands into fists. "Yeah? Then you should never have left me in that damned tower to worry about you—"

It all happened in an instant, Steve snaking his hand around her waist and tugging her into him, planting his lips on hers in a slightly awkward kiss that, despite Cara losing her balance and falling into him, made it glaringly obvious that Steve hadn't bothered to kiss anyone after he and Cara broke up. 

In my sad, lonely heart, I thought it was sweet.

But Cara pushed him off of her, her eyes glowing with a fury that I'd never seen before. I was waiting for her to raise her gun and kill the man that stood before her, his eyes washed with confusion and guilt. "You can't do that anymore," she glared. "You lost the right. I'm not some lovesick girl anymore."

The absolute remorse and guilt in Steve's eyes was enough to keep everyone from looking at him as we filed out of the jet, even Sam avoiding his friend. 

"So that's what happened," I hummed, catching up with Cara. 

She grunted. "Not a word, El. Not a word."

I obliged, as I didn't want her to turn her gun on me, and I walked in silence. We branched off from the rest of the group, Wretton going with Cade, and Sam, Nat, and Steve sticking together. 

Our footprints were quickly brushed away from sight with the wind that ripped through the desert, obscuring our view. We'd used whatever material we could find on board to form makeshift masks that blocked the sand from entering our noses and mouths. So far it was working well enough, but I knew that it wouldn't work as well as the time went on. We needed to find this compound, if it was here, and we needed to find it quickly. 

It seemed that luck was on our side. Nearly two hours later, I felt the tug of fatigue on my eyelids. My feet were dragging, the sand was blowing harder than ever, and I was sick of this. I just wanted to go back and breathe properly. 

Cara gripped my wrist tightly and cursed. "Oh my god," she said, her voice hoarse speaking around the sand in her throat. "Oh my god." She pointed at her feet. 

I struggled to see what she wanted me to see, but the wind blew an extra strong gust, clearing the space at her feet. Underneath the sand appeared an emblem made of some dark kind of metal. It depicted a kind of animal, a dog-like creature with three heads—

"Holy shit," I gasped, "that's Cerberus. That's the mythological creature. It's them. It's Bucky."

Reaching down, I ignored all the warnings from Cara and brushed away the sand around it, revealing a handle that laid flat against what looked like a door. It was the perfect place to find Cerberus. I tugged on the handle, a sudden rush of what felt like superhuman strength running through me like a wave. 

The door creaked open, the noise moaning so loudly that it was as if it hadn't been used in centuries. I peered into the dark space that revealed itself, the edges of a ladder just barely visible. There was no stopping me. I could practically smell Bucky from here. I knew that he was here.

"Holy shit, they're coming out of the ground." Cara's voice was shocked, and I looked up to see that the desert, previously desolate, was now populated with at least fifty tan-clothed figures that stalked closer to us, surrounding the seven of us. We were trapped. 

I looked up at Cara and shook my head. "I have to go," I said, almost pleading with her. "You have to let me go. I'm only gonna slow you down if I fight with you. You have to stay up here—"

I wasn't able to finish, as Cara walked off and lifted her gun, preparing to fight off these Cerberus agents. I supposed that was as much of a grant of permission that I was going to get. I shoved myself down into the black tunnel, grasping the ladder rungs tightly. Swinging the door shut, I was sure that I alerted the entire compound to my presence, but I didn't care. 

My feet slipped on the rungs, the pitch black space holding all sorts of shadows that haunted me. Finally finding the ground, I gathered myself and set off at a run along the connecting corridor, hoping to find something at the center of this maze-like compound I'd found myself in. If I could have it my way, I would find Bucky within the first few steps and I'd get him out of here.

But I had no idea what I was walking into. It became clearer that I was unprepared when the footsteps echoing in the corridor doubled, signifying the Cerberus agents behind me, chasing. 

I had no idea where I was going, and I knew I had to stop before I ran myself into a dead end. But I coudln't stop running, looking down every turn and into every room, looking for—

There. 

I nearly collapsed, my legs almost giving out at the sight of his dark hair. It was longer than I remembered it being, and when he turned his head, I could see a thick beard growing on his face. I inhaled sharply, blurting, "Bucky!" before I could stop myself. "Bucky! It's me!"

He lifted his haunted eyes to mine, and they were wide and unseeing for a moment, as something inside of him was woken from slumber. But the ice in his gaze closed over again, and I was left staring at the shell of the man I loved. He shook his head. "No one," he mumbled to himself as he walked past, brushing so close to me that I could reach out and touch his jacket. 

But when I tried, he only gripped my wrist with his superhuman strength, tugging me away from him. "No one," he repeated, as if convincing himself. 

I was seized in the next second, caught by the agents. But I didn't register them moving me, nearly carrying me to their destination. All I could see was Bucky, staring back at me like I was a stranger, not the woman he'd kissed for a whole year, waking up next to me and hugging me close to his body. 

He didn't know me. But I would make him remember me, even if it meant I had to reteach him. I would save him. I would save him and buy Cara and the others time to save the both of us. 

Because who knew how long I'd be down here, anyway. 

||

i'm sorry that this chapter wasn't up last thursday. i've been bogged down by school and work, so i've changed my update schedule. from now until this book is finished, i will update this on tuesdays and fridays(possibly saturdays, though). 

anyway, i'm not super happy with this chapter, but a lot happened so i hope you still liked it. i'm currently falling asleep, so i'm gonna log off and go to bed. i'll see you guys in a couple days for the next chapter. 

september 24, 2019