Siberia

Spring 2016

"We're ten minutes out." Nadine looked up at Steve's low report. Not that she'd exactly needed him to let her know. The tenor of the engines' hum had shifted, indicating the Quinjet was beginning to slow. It, more than his softly spoken warning, had the effect of waking her from the near torpor she'd fallen into as their amusement over how helpful Nadine would've been in DC had subsided back into a heavy, solemn silence where time seemed at once to slow and speed up.

Next to her, Barnes similarly fidgeted in his seat as he too emerged from wherever he'd disappeared to within his head, blinking away the distant, troubled expression from his eyes. Inhaling deeply, the former HYDRA agent straightened in his seat, sparing Nadine a small yet grave smile. One she returned with little thought.

There was no escaping what lay before them.

It was going to be a brutal fight.

"Do we have a plan," she asked. In front of her, Steve leaned forward, gathering his thoughts as he began to prep the Quinjet for its final approach to their destination. Next to her, the crease between Barnes' brows returned as he too turned his mind to the coming fight.

But before either of the two men could speak, they were interrupted by a welcome sound that nearly had Nadine gasping with relief.

"Mom?"

Nadine twisted at the small, uncertain voice of her daughter. "Nina," she breathed, the words little more than a sigh at first. "How are you feeling, solnyshko?"

Nina was looking out the front viewscreen as she stepped into the cockpit proper. Her face was still faintly pale, though out of nerves or lingering exhaustion, Nadine wasn't sure. Her arms curling around her torso, Nina edged closer to Nadine's seat, instinctively seeking reassurance against the disorientation Nadine could see in her daughter's eyes. "I'm okay," she brushed off, the assurance somewhat diminished by a faint tremor that didn't entirely convince her mother. But only at first. Much to Nadine's relief, Nina's voice strengthened as she continued, if only marginally. "Where are we?" Nadine reached up, fishing out Nina's hand and squeezing gently.

"Siberia," Nadine said simply.

"Siberia?" Nadine looked up to Nina, taking in the uncertainty flickering across Nina's drawn features. She squeezed her fingers just a little tighter, pleased when Nina squeezed back.

"Where Barnes was 'kept' when not in use." There was no hiding the cool, derisive cast to Nadine's tone. It was as clear as what she thought of their destination. Nina paled further, risking a glance toward Barnes. He sat, jaw tight and eyes straight ahead, fixed a little too intently on the barren expanse of ice and rock that stretched ahead of them as they approached their destination. A small shiver went through Nina, one that Nadine felt as her daughter unconsciously pressed closer, all but sitting on the armrest of Nadine's seat. She gently tugged her fingers free from Nina's, reaching up to wrap her arm loosely around Nina instead, absently chafing her opposite arm.

"There really are more like him, aren't there," Nina finally asked after a long moment. Nadine drew in a slow, steadying breath and let it out again before she answered. Across the narrow aisle, Barnes' gaze dropped to the floor, his jaw tightening further. A faint whine reached mother and daughter both, both looking over to see his metal hand clenching tight. Nadine sighed.

"No, solnyshko," she corrected, not looking away from Barnes. His expression was nearly as impassive as hers, though there was a vulnerable, despairing light to his eyes. "They're not like him. Not really."

Nina frowned, looking to Nadine. "But, back in Leipzig, Steve and Mr. Stark..." Ahead, Steve's head tilted, obviously listening just as intently as Barnes was.

"Yes, the five we are after are also called Winter Soldiers, Nina," Nadine continued when Nina's perplexed objection faltered. "But unlike Barnes, these ones are actually bad people. They chose to become what they are. He didn't." A sharp exhale escaped from Barnes at the conviction in her voice, but Nadine meant it.

Every word.

But Nina's frown, while growing thoughtful, deepened as she looked back to Nadine, glancing briefly toward Steve. Nadine studied her daughter's features, a faint wash of pride surfacing as she realized her daughter was already beginning to figure out things on her own, fitting the pieces from what she'd heard in Leipzig to what Nadine had said together.

"But Vienna..."

"That wasn't me. I wasn't even in Vienna..." Nadine blinked, startled as Barnes answered Nina even as she was opening her mouth to do so. Barnes hesitated, his hesitation shifting from unsettled to considering, "...the last time I was in Austria was...over a month ago." The corner of his mouth twitched as she caught his eye, her brow rising in silent question. His hand twitched, and Nadine watched curiously as it edged toward the front of his jacket... toward a carefully concealed book, perhaps? "I was...I went back to the first base I was kept at. Looking for...and..." And realization struck her.

"The Austria File," she murmured incredulously, very nearly laughing to herself at the irony. Barnes frowned with confusion, looking up to her as Steve twisted, eyes widening in disbelief of his own. Huffing, Nadine shook her head, unable to believe the sheer ill-luck of it all. "Your intake file; I'd finally tracked it to that base. I hit it last Fall." She shot Barnes a sympathetic look at the faint groan that escaped him as the pieces fell into place for him too. "There wasn't much left when I was there, either. The file was already gone." Only to shoot a fondly aggravated look to the back of Steve's head. As though sensing it, he twisted slightly, an apologetic cast to what little of his expression she could see as he briefly met her eye. "Natasha had already gotten her hands on it and passed it on to Steve long before I started working with them. Everything else was..." she paused then, another thought striking her. The same thought that she suddenly suspected had struck Steve if the way he inhaled sharply was any indication. With a brisk motion she hit the clasp on her seatbelt, slipping free from the webbing. With an absent gesture, she tugged Nina toward her vacated seat before slipping up beside Steve.

Sure enough, he was already digging into one of the pouches on his utility belt. She brushed a hand over his shoulder as he looked up to her, a chaotic mix of emotion shadowing his features. His touch lingered as he pressed the only thing of value she'd found in Austria into her palm, squeezing lightly as his fingers curled around hers. Inhaling deeply herself as she looked from their hands back to his face, she spared him a brief smile. One he returned, even if it was faintly reserved.

But then, they were all a little reserved, at the moment. Though really, how could they be anything else?

Pulling back, Nadine stepped back from the pilot's seat. And nearly hesitated at the wary, puzzled look Barnes was fixing her with and the intrigued yet confused one from Nina. She could almost see the gears turning in both their heads; it was unsettling really, especially given how eerily similar they seemed in that moment. Resisting the urge to nervously clear her throat, Nadine looked down to her hand.

"There was nothing else of interest left, really," she explained, looking back up to Barnes, "most, I imagine, had been transferred along with you when they moved you here."

She stepped forward, reaching out for his hand, turning it palm up. He froze as she dropped his dog tags into his hand, going rigid with shock. "But I did find these," she said softly. He exhaled sharply.

"Nadya, I..." But he couldn't manage anything more, his hoarse voice faltering as he stared at the old tags. She smiled wanly, reaching out to gently squeeze his shoulder in support. But she said nothing. There was nothing to say. His face said it all.

"But, if it wasn't Barnes—you in Vienna," Nina spoke up then, snapping the moment as she corrected herself, looking to Barnes directly for the first time, "who was it?" Nadine nearly frowned at the considering look Nina had fixed on Barnes. A look she couldn't quite decipher.

"We're not entirely certain," Steve answered, forcing Nadine's thoughts back on track and causing Nina to look to him and Nadine in turn as he elaborated. "But considering the doctor, whoever he is, used the bombing to flush Bucky out of hiding for the sole reason of getting the location of the other Soldiers from him? It's a pretty safe bet he was involved, if not the one who carried it out." Nina's frown deepened, her eyes sharpening with consideration. Consideration and an unsettled sort of worry. But little else. Nina's expression was surprisingly hard to decipher in that moment. Nadine's head tilted reflexively as she studied her daughter, absently wondering what was going on in her head, intrigued by the shrewd gleam she could see working behind Nina's steel-blue eyes.

Around them the Quinjet shuddered. Turning, Nadine watched as Steve manoeuvred the Quinjet down next to an old all-terrain snow vehicle and a jagged outcropping of rock. But Nadine barely got more than a glimpse of either, the engines kicking up the fine power underfoot until all any of them could see through the viewscreens were shadows through a thick veil of snow. With a deep clunk and a vibrating groan, the Quinjet settled and the engines began to spool down.

For a heartbeat, not one of its occupants moved. Even Steve where he sat at the controls hesitated before he began to shut all but the climate control subsystems of the Quinjet down.

It was Nadine who came back to herself first, looking from Steve to Barnes, her hand slipping around the back of Steve's seat to squeeze lightly at his shoulder in encouragement—though, for her sake or his, she couldn't be sure. His hand rose to cover her fingers with his, the gesture comforting.

"C'mon, boys," she muttered dryly, though not without a distinct hardness to her tone, "let's put these brutes down."

And then they were all moving at once. In their seats, Steve—having finished powering down the Quinjet—and Barnes both shrugged out of their restraints while Nadine was gesturing Nina up and back into the main cabin, the teen following the unspoken instruction with a trace of reluctance. Nadine nearly frowned at the considering, almost guarded look still shadowing her daughter's features. It left an oddly unsettled feeling in the pit of her stomach.

She nearly jumped at Steve's hand brushing against her lower back. She turned, looking up to him ready with a reassuring if reserved grin for him. Only for the expression to fade at the troubled frown looking down at her.

"Nadine, you're not like them," he finally said softly, "You know that, right?" She only partially managed to withhold a sigh. She evenly met his eye. She held no illusions. She knew what she was and, as she'd said to Barnes and had said to Steve in the past, she had long since accepted it.

"Do I?" she asked, careful to keep her voice little more than a murmur. "It's a fine line, Steve. I am what they are. I'm the second try when they didn't work as planned. I've done the same sorts of things they were intended to do. That's what they made me." His lips thinned at her calm acknowledgment of that fact, his brow creasing further. But what else could she do? It was true. It was her reality. There was simply no point in railing against the truth about what she was. It accomplished very little. She sighed again, her hand rising almost instinctively to rest on his forearm, thumb absently brushing back and forth. Not that it didn't still happen anyway. "Why do you think I took issue with Ross calling us weapons?" she admitted softly. "Because it hit home. Hard. I am a weapon." His features softened, sympathy lighting in his eyes as his head tilted minutely with dismay.

"No. You're not," he objected. Nadine bit back another sigh.

"Steve—" But he didn't let her finish.

"Don't forget I'm a soldier, Nadine," he said, a thread of challenge to his low tone, as though daring her to try and argue. "I've been a soldier since the Second World War. Part of my job is killing, just like yours." He paused then, considering what he wanted to say as he studied her features. "You really think I would've objected to your methods had you shown up in DC?" he asked, his tone gentling. Nadine faltered, her objection dying before it even reached her tongue as she caught the hardened glint in his eyes. "On the Overpass? When we took those Helicarriers? We killed people that day, too. I killed people." he pointed out bluntly. "They might have been HYDRA agents bent on killing millions of innocents, but that doesn't change that fact. We had to. In war, more often than not, it's kill or be killed and DC was a war all its own. It's something people like to forget, or perhaps don't remember to realize. In many ways, I'm no different than you. The only difference is that being a soldier is socially sanctioned, for the most part—even glorified, unless you're fighting for the enemy—whereas what you were," he reasoned, his emphasis clear and too pointed to miss, "is generally vilified, no matter the motives or even what side you're on." Nadine sighed, unconsciously leaning into his touch where it come to rest on her waist.

"But you chose to be a soldier," she countered, a fond smile rising unbidden to her lips. "You wanted to become what you are, to become Enhanced with the hope that you could make a difference for the better if you did." She shook her head, warmth blooming within her alongside her smile out of appreciation for what he was trying to do, what he was really saying beneath his reasoning; that she wasn't a villain. "No matter how you look at it, that's not me. The only thing I've ever truly wanted in my life is Nina, to keep her safe. And I've done awful things to make that happen. Things I don't regret," she concluded firmly, unapologetically meeting his eye. She wasn't ashamed of what she was. She'd made her peace with her past and she was content with who she'd become. She was alive because of what she was. Her daughter was alive because of it. And it had brought her to where she was now.

Next to him.

She couldn't regret that.

Inhaling deeply, Steve's chin dipped, his nod admittedly reluctant but accepting. He'd heard what she hadn't put into words. He knew as well as she did that it was a debate that neither was going to win.

Her gratitude undoubtedly clear on her face, she leaned up to brush a kiss across his cheek, her fingers brushing tenderly along his jaw in silent thanks for the things he'd left unsaid as much as for what he'd tried to convey. She ignored how acutely aware she suddenly was of how close they were, how she was all but in his arms. That and the unbidden but appealing urge to lean into him, to take advantage of their proximity to glean even a small measure of comfort from his presence, his steadiness. Especially as he leaned in himself as she pulled back, his forehead dipping to rest against hers in a surprisingly intimate gesture. But she buried the urge away. Now was not the time.

As she drew back, Nadine quirked a brow at him, her lip twitching as she quipped, "can we go stop the actual evil assassins, now?" Despite himself, a small chuckle escaped him, and Steve nodded, his gaze warm on her as he gestured for her to lead the way after Nina and into the main cabin.

Where Nina was pointedly not watching the two of them, a poorly concealed—and smug—grin tugging at her lips. Nadine just as pointedly ignored the vindicated gleam in her daughter's eye; she'd definitely been spending too much time with Natasha.

But with each step into the main cabin, the content feeling her moment with Steve had left her with faded, the weight of their mission settling over her once more. As Steve stepped around her, his hand reluctantly leaving her waist as he too turned his thoughts back to their mission, she was already turning her focus back to what had to come next.

And nearly jumped again as another tentative touch brushed over her shoulder.

"He means well," Barnes murmured, the corner of his lip tugging in what she imagined was supposed to be an encouraging expression to go with the gesture. But it just managed to look resigned.

Inhaling deeply, Nadine easily returned the commiserating expression, her fond smile briefly reappearing. "I know," she assured him just as quietly, her own hand brushing absently against his arm in silent thanks before jerking her head over toward the equipment lockers tucked off in the corner of the cabin that extended into the starboard wing. With a faint nod of understanding, he too stepped around her, zeroing in on her sister's compartment after a moment's consideration.

As he made quick work of selecting Natasha's M269 from the respectable array of arsenal she knew was there, Nadine was heading for her own locker, pausing only to spare a quick glance to Nina, who'd settled herself back on the bank of seats she'd woken up on. Where she sat, watching as the three adults moved efficiently around the cabin collecting their gear, her expression once more solemn and veiled. Nadine fought the urge to swallow thickly at how grim Nina looked. And how exhausted she still looked as she curled her knee up to her chest, her eyes bright in her paler-than-usual face.

Nor was she the only one to notice.

The familiar fluttering warmth that she was beginning to associate with Steve bloomed in her chest as he paused next to Nina, a faintly crooked grin coming to his face as he tilted his head to catch her eye.

"You're alright?" Steve asked gently after a moment, his fond smile never faltering though concern surfaced in his eyes that echoed Nadine's. Concern that she glimpsed on Barnes' face also as he too looked up at the sound of Steve's voice. Nina nodded sedately.

"Yeah," she answered, her voice barely audible from where Nadine stood clear across the cabin. "I'm fine." Steve inhaled deeply, his relief clear.

"Good," he said, lip twitching even as his eyes grew serious. "You gave us a hell of a scare there, Nina."

"Language," Nina quipped weakly, startling a laugh out of Steve. Next to Nadine, Barnes swallowed back a snort of amusement. Shaking his head, Steve spared the heavens an exasperated look that completely lost its effect thanks to the smile still playing across his face.

"Of course that's still around," he grumbled with affected aggravation. Nadine nearly snorted herself, earning a quick, amused glance from the Captain.

"I did warn you," she couldn't help but quip, echoing what she'd said all those months ago when the joke had been new, "did you really think Stark wouldn't do his best to keep that one alive?" Steve's smile dimmed as the lightness in Nadine's tone did when Tony's name passed her lips. On the bank of seats, Nina winced, hugging her knee tighter, her knuckles tense to the point where they were beginning to go white.

"I never wanted—" she said, her voice painfully small before it cut off altogether. Steve sighed heavily, reaching out to gently squeeze Nina's shoulder. Her face crumpled further with dismay. "I didn't mean for..."

"We know, solnyshko," Nadine said quietly, drawing Nina's miserable gaze. Nina drew in a shuddering breath, trying to offer Nadine a tentative smile. It almost worked before her face fell once more.

"The others..." Nadine froze, as did Steve not far from Nina as he collected his shield from its custom hanger just before the access hatch's control panel. Nina looked between him and Nadine, her guarded expression crumbling. "They..." but she couldn't get the words out, caught as they were in her throat by the fear and guilt suddenly clear on her face. Next to Nadine, Barnes tensed.

"They stayed behind to give us a chance," Nadine finally answered, fighting not to look to Steve as he stiffened, his jaw tensing as guilt flashed across his face. Nina let out a small, sharp breath, her eyes squeezing shut for moment.

"The Twins? Wanda," she forced out, her voice wavering, "P—Pietro?" Nadine's chest constricted at the plaintive note to her daughter's implied question. Before she'd even realized she'd begun to move, Nadine had crossed the cabin, sinking onto the seat next to Nina. She brushed back the stray lock of hair that had fallen across Nina's face, at a loss for what to say. But she had to say something, especially as Nina's face tilted toward her, unable to quite meet Nadine's eye, likely for fear of what she would—or wouldn't—see written there. Nadine withheld a sigh.

"Wanda was covering our run for the Quinjet when she was hit with Rhodes' sonic cannon," Nadine explained carefully, "Pietro went back to try and help her and got caught out too. They've...they've both likely been arrested," Nadine added reluctantly, her concession—no matter how reluctant—that Nina deserved to know only barely winning out over the urge to protect her daughter from just how dire the consequences of what had happened in Leipzig were, "along with Clint, Sam and Lang." Nina flinched, sucking in a sharp, pained breath at the confirmation of her fears.

"I'm sorry, Nina," Steve murmured, his voice heavy with remorse. Mutely, she nodded, head jerking as she started to look up to Steve but couldn't quite manage it.

"Are they at least okay?" she asked, her voice little more than a whisper. This time it was Nadine who nearly flinched.

"I don't know, solnyshko," she admitted, the words feeling like they'd been dragged from her throat. "They seemed unhurt, but...I can't be sure." Nina curled tighter into herself.

"And there was no way to...to go back for them?" Nadine swallowed against the emotion suddenly threatening to clog her throat. It was painfully clear that Nina already knew the answer to her own question. The dejection in her voice more than made that clear.

"I wish there was," Steve answered soberly, sparing Nadine from her fight to get the words out. Nina sniffed, her eyes bright as she nodded. And to Nadine's relief, Nina leaned into her, unconsciously searching for comfort. Comfort Nadine didn't hesitate to give, curling an arm around her daughter and laying a reassuring kiss against her pale hair as Nina's head leaned against Nadine's cheek. A faint scuff next to Steve had her looking up as Barnes came to stand next to Steve, his face carefully impassive but his eyes almost desperately pained as they fixed on Nina.

They stayed that way for a moment, as long as Nadine could afford to let it last no matter how much she wanted to linger. They still had a mission, and every moment they delayed gave another moment's preparation to the doctor and the five Winter Soldiers waiting in the bunker hidden deep within the escarpment they had landed on.

But even as Nadine gently squeezed Nina's shoulder in preparation to pull away, Nina broke the sombre silence that had fallen.

"I can't go back, can I." Nadine's heart nearly broke at what was very much not a question. Resignation was written all over Nina's face as she drew back to look up at Nadine, but beyond that, she gave very little of what she was thinking away. "To school, to the Compound. Any of it. Mr Stark won't be able to protect me."

"Oh, solnyshko." Nadine sighed, carefully measuring her words, unable to fight the impulse to ease the sting of the obvious and inescapable truth of her daughter's situation. There was no hiding from it. Especially not since Nina was already beginning to realize the consequences she now faced right alongside Nadine and Steve. "No. I'm sorry, Nina. It's..." she faltered, the weight of what her daughter's new reality pressing down on her too. "It's why I tried so hard to keep you out of all this; of the Accords, of this life. I'm so sorry." Nina's face threatened to crumple once more, but she drew in a deep, shaking breath to stave off the dismay that was clear on her face. As she looked up to Nadine again, the corner of Nina's lip twitched in the semblance of a reassuring smile, but it was half-hearted at best.

But after a moment she huffed out a small chuckle, startling the adults gathered around her.

"I suppose it's okay," she said, a faint tremor to her voice that slowly faded as she continued, "I mean, MIT was great and all, but I was honestly learning more from talking to Mr Stark than I was from classes." Her expression grew pained for a split-second before the almost-smile that had Nadine frowning with curiosity came back.

"Besides," Nina added, the beginnings of a mischievous glint lighting in her eyes, "it was just exhausting having to listen to all the 'Avenger' talk and conspiracies and not butt in and set them all straight. I mean," she shot Steve a nearly wicked grin that had Nadine grinning despite herself and Barnes' lip twitching, "did you know there're people out there convinced that Steve is actually a HYDRA sleeper and that's the real reason he took down the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarriers in DC?" Steve started, looking like he wasn't quite sure whether to be amused, affronted or just downright bewildered. As Barnes nearly choked on a huff of laugher, Nadine was similarly hard-pressed to stifle a chuckle at the pinched expression. Either unable or unwilling to mask her own reaction, Nina snickered at the look, her features brightening. "Ridiculous, I know. He can't even lie convincingly about taking the last muffin from the carton, so how're we supposed to believe he's been lying about that all these years?" Steve huffed, fighting to hide his laughter behind a serious look.

"Who's to say it's not all an elaborate ruse. Maybe I have you all fooled?" Nina giggled at Steve's tongue-in-cheek remark, but it was Barnes who answered with a snort of incredulity.

"You couldn't lie your way out of a wet paper bag, even when we were kids," he pointed out dryly. "Why do you think I was always the one to insist on doing the talking? You were always too honest for your own good." Steve's nose crinkled in annoyance, though his eyes twinkled with mirth. Nadine rolled her eyes at their antics, reluctantly extracting herself from Nina's side as she did so. Nina looked up at her then, the brightness that had been starting to return to her usually sunny features dimming.

Especially as Barnes held out the Colt M4A1 he'd retrieved for her from Nadine's own equipment locker—not quite so extensively stocked as Natasha's, but it served in a pinch—his own wry grin fading as the weight of what lay outside the Quinjet began to settle over them all once more.

Habit immediately taking over, her practiced eye and hands made short work of checking the weapon even as she settled it comfortably in her grip. Inhaling deeply, she looked up Steve and Barnes, lingering as Steve held her eye.

"Ready?" he asked soberly. It was one small question—one small word—laden with a hundred things left unsaid. Things they simply didn't have time to say. Emotions that threatened to leave her breath catching in her chest.

It was another moment where each heartbeat seemed to hold an eternity. Yet it still wasn't long enough.

And the moment ended as it had to.

Feeling her long-ingrained impassive mask falling into place once again, Nadine nodded once in answer. A wan grin tugged at the corner of his mouth before he spared Barnes a loaded look that asked the same question, his friend's silent nod a copy Nadine's.

Satisfied, Steve swung his shield onto its place on his back a fluid move that had long become more instinct than conscious act before turning to Nina.

But even as he was opening his mouth, Nina was already shaking her head, defiance clear on her face as she shot to her feet, looking from Steve to Nadine.

"I'm not staying on the Quin—" But Nadine cut her off with a warning look.

"You are staying here," she said with unmistakable finality, her fingers brushing over Nina's cheek. Nina leaned away from the touch, her features set in a stubborn, incredulous frown.

"Your mother's right, Nina," Steve chimed in, his no-nonsense 'Captain' persona firmly in place, "we need you here. This fight's going to be too dangerous, and you simply don't have the training to go up against these guys." Nina's steel-blue eyes flashed angrily as she turned back to Nadine. But Nadine once again cut her protests off before they could even escape Nina's open mouth.

"You will not argue this, Nicola," she said tersely, her own expression growing hard. "Training or not, you are in no shape to go up against these people. You will stay with the Quinjet."

"I will make it an order if I have to, Nina," Steve added, his tone just as absolute as Nadine's. A frustrated sound burst past the scowl that was threatening to take over Nina's face.

"For god's sake! You can't just—I can help!" Nadine nearly gaped at Nina's vehemence. She inhaled a long, slow breath, letting it out again before responding. She knew what fuelled Nina's outburst. She could see it through the fissures in her determined expression. And it made her chest ache.

It was fear. Now that Nina knew what was waiting for them outside the Quinjet, she was terrified, and the idea of sitting back, unable to help, nearly had her panicking. And that panic was manifesting as insubordination. And Nadine's impassivity nearly faltered, knowing there was nothing she could do to reassure Nina. Not really.

Not without lying to her.

"Then hold the Quinjet." Nina, Nadine and Steve all turned to Barnes in unison, each wearing expressions ranging from wary to startled to alarmed and everything in between. Barnes looked up from his intent study of the M269 in his hands to gravely meet Nina's eye. "This thing is the fastest way out of this place. We can't lose it." Nina shifted, her features guarded as she considered Barnes' counter-offer. Nadine wasn't sure if she wanted to object or approve, her stomach suddenly twisting anxiously as Barnes' made the one truth part of her had been trying almost desperately not to acknowledge impossible to disregard.

When it came right down to it, Nina wasn't even safe on the Quinjet.

If even one of the Five got past them? Without question they would go for the Quinjet.

"Bucky's right," Steve agreed grimly, meeting Nadine's eye. He wasn't happy about it either, but it was an observation none of them could ignore. They couldn't afford to. Nadine's eyes slid shut against the same realization. Steve fixed Nina with a steady look. "You want to help? No one gets on this jet but us. You'll be our last line of defence, Nina." Though still looking decidedly unhappy, Nina nevertheless nodded briskly, recognizing that it was the best compromise she was likely to get. In the face of Barnes' point, she couldn't deny that holding the Quinjet was important even if she still didn't like the idea of staying behind.

Especially as a shadow of guilt passed over her expressive features, her gaze flicking to Nadine. A shadow Nadine recognized with a flash of pained understanding.

The parallel to Sokovia was unmistakable, really. And Nadine knew full well her daughter still felt guilty that her abandonment of the Quinjet that day might very well have been what allowed Ultron to take it...

...and nearly kill her, Pietro and Clint as a result.

As satisfied as he could be, Steve spared Nina a final, reassuring glance before he gestured to Bucky that it was time to go. Reluctance clear in his eyes even as his lips thinned with resolve, Barnes followed after Steve. But not before sparing Nina one final indecipherable glance of his own. One Nina returned with a faint, grateful grin of her own.

Leaving Nadine for a moment alone with her daughter.

And before Nina could object, Nadine was stepping forward, pulling Nina close in a one-armed embrace. And soft, shuddering breath slipped free from Nadine as Nina hugged her tightly back, sniffing softly as the high emotions of the moment before faded.

"I can't lose you, solnyshko," Nadine breathed against Nina's hair, the pale strands silky-soft against her cheek. Nina's head shook where it was tucked against Nadine's neck, her arms tightening further around Nadine's waist.

"It feels like Sokovia all over again," Nina whispered against Nadine's collarbone, her voice trembling as she echoed Nadine's thoughts. Nadine sighed.

"I know," was all she could say.

A/N: Thanks for reading!

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