"Tell me where she is!"

Steve's body slammed back against the apartment door as Bucky's fist connected to his chin, but he made no effort to strike back. "I can't do that, Buck. I promised her." He straightened and rubbed the sting from his face, "I'm not gonna fight you. You gotta let her do this, and you gotta calm down."

Bucky lunged forwards again, pushing his friend back again, holding the front of his shirt in both hands. "You didn't even try to stop her, did you?" When Steve didn't reply, but instead looked down and away from his angry stare, Bucky's eyes widened as he released him and started to back away. "Shit, you're hiding her from me, aren't you? What are you up to? Is there something going on between you?"

"Buck, don't be ridiculous. Of course there isn't." His hand went to his mouth to wipe away a small drop of blood, but when his fingers touched his lips, the memory of your kiss flashed through his mind. "She just asked me to do this for her, and I agreed. I'm not hiding her from you." No matter how much I want to.

Bucky's breathing was fast and uneven, pacing in front of Steve, thinking about what his next move should be. "Okay," he mumbled to himself, "okay where else could she be? Where haven't I looked?"

"Come on, man...."

"Fuck! Why didn't I think of that!" Your husband yelled as the revelation came to him. He ran from your apartment and down the stairs, taking them three at a time. "I know where she is!"

~~~

Tony sat motionless in front of you, processing what you had just said. You watched his face, trying to read the gamut of emotions that were crossing it. You were convinced that he was trying to decide if he was going to turn you in or just go right for killing you; you were in the state of mind to accept either, willingly, so that he could find the retribution that his parents deserved.

"Was she afraid?"

Well, that was not what you were expecting as his first words after your revelation. He wasn't looking at you, and honestly, his eyes were the last thing you wanted to see. "Uh," you whispered, "she...she was at first. But, I couldn't do it...and, um...I looked away." You reached over to grab the whiskey bottle that you had successfully ignored for an entire ten minutes and took a long drink. "I should have stopped him, and I'm sorry."

"And dad?"

"Tony..."

"Tell me, (Y/N)."

You took another drink, even though your enhanced metabolism refused to allow it to help you. "He was already gone by the time I reached her." Why was he asking for details, as if this weren't hard enough for you to say and hard enough for him to hear? "It was fast, I promise."

He leaned back in the chair and covered his eyes with both hands, pushing against them as if to stop any tears from escaping. "Okay, so what do we do now?" he groaned, but you weren't sure if he was talking to you or to himself.

"I'm going to do whatever you decide."

"You're putting a hell of a lot of trust in me," he said. Taking one more drink, you stepped forward and handed him the bottle. This time he took it readily and threw his head back as he drank. "This is why you ran out of the tower, right? Fighting with your husband brought this memory back?"

"Yeah."

When he looked at you, he was no longer fighting the tears from building, but he still looked despondent. "I'm sorry."

You opened your mouth to reply, but his words weren't what you expected. "Wait, what?"

"I'm sorry."

You shook your head, not understanding why he would say that. "Tony, I don't get it," you scoffed, "what the hell could you possibly be sorry about here? I just told you that I was there when your parents died. I just told you that I tried to kill your mother, and that I didn't stop my own husband when he did. You aren't making any sense."

He stood and set the bottle down, clearing his throat and slowly looking at you, "I'm sorry that you were there. I'm sorry that you became that person against your will. I'm sorry that those memories have come back and are hurting you this much." He took a few steps forward and put a hand on each of your arms, forcing you to hold eye contact, despite how uncomfortable it was. "I'm sorry that you had to be the one to tell me. But, (Y/N)," he sighed, "I'm not going to turn you in."

"You don't owe me anything."

"If that overgrown boy scout best friend of yours thinks so highly of you, and trusts you enough to bring you to the team, then I have to believe that the person from the past wasn't really you. This person in front of me, the one who is compelled to tell me the truth only hours after that memory came back, couldn't possibly be the same one that was there that day."

"You're putting a lot of faith into someone that you don't even know."

"Yes, I suppose that I am," he said, releasing your from his grip and turning to sit back down and take another drink. "but I've been big on second chances lately. I'm on my third or fourth with some people, so who am I to deny you?"

"Tony..."

"It's done," he said with a sigh as he waved his hand dismissively. "It's finally done."

~~~

Bucky pulled the car up to the garage of your childhood home, turning off the lights so he wouldn't be seen. Steve pulled his motorcycle behind him, jumping off quickly to intercept his friend who was almost to the front door before he reached him.

"Hey, you need to calm down, alright? If you go in there with guns blazing, it's only going to push her farther away."

Bucky looked around the exterior of the building, acting as if he hadn't heard him. "Stark's car is still here. Maybe we aren't too late." He rushed to the door and pushed his way inside, halting quickly when he saw Tony at the kitchen table, alone.

"Mr. Stark," he panted, "is she here? Did you turn her in?" He rushed up to the table, leaning down to face Tony, "it was me, okay? She didn't do it."

"I know, and I didn't turn her in. But sorry, she's not here." He stood up and made his way to the door, stopping to face Steve. "We should try to track her," he whispered, glancing back at Bucky, "she seemed determined to do something, and I don't feel good about it."

Steve looked over Tony's shoulder to see his friend hunched over the table, shaking his head and looking all but defeated in his quest to find you. "What did she say?"

"Something about finishing the job. Do you know what that could mean?"

"No," Steve replied, searching his memory, "but you're damned straight that I'm gonna find out."

~~~

As you walked up to the building, you marveled at the ornate exterior, covered in marble and iron. Statues looked down on you from the roof several stories above, their eyes appearing to bore a hole into your soul. You felt a chill run down your spine when your hand touched the harsh metal of the door handle, but it didn't deter you from your mission. With a deep breath you pulled the door open and took a step inside, too late to turn back now.

"Hello," you said, approaching the security guard at the desk in front of you. "I have a meeting at 2 o'clock with-"

"Yes, ma'am. He's been anxiously awaiting your arrival." The man stood and held his hand out to direct you. "This way please."

With a curt nod you followed, looking at your surroundings without trying to make it obvious that you were studying the environment. You quickly determined that each guard had two guns at minimum concealed in their jackets, the man who was leading you had a knife strapped to each leg as well, and a small blade in his left sleeve. Before you had reached the elevator, you had formulated four different ways to take him down and disarm him in a matter of seconds.

"Take the lift to the sixth floor."

You walked past him with your best effort at confidence, giving him a silent nod. The ride to your destination felt like it took forever, and you didn't realize that you were holding your breath until the doors opened again. This time you were greeted by another man who was clearly nervous in your presence; he knew exactly who you were and made no effort to hide it.

"Ma'am, w-welcome," he stammered, "he's...he's ready to meet with you, ma'am." The nervous man pointed you towards a set of double doors with detailed but painfully familiar carvings and gold handles. "Please leave any weapons here at the desk, ma'am."

"Thank you, but I didn't bring any with me."

He seemed surprised for a moment that you, of all people, would be unarmed. He stepped past you to hold the door open, and waved you in without any further discussion. The room was cold and silent, with very little decoration; the large desk was at its center, and the man you were here for was in the chair behind it and turned away from you. You took a few steps forward and introduced your arrival when he didn't move.

"Hello?"

"Sit."

"Turn to face me first." You weren't about to defer to a man you had never met, and as of yet had no reason to gain your trust or respect.

His chair spun around quickly, but his face didn't match the anger that came through his voice. "Defiance isn't tolerated here, (Y/N). You should know that."

"I have no reason to defy you, sir. But I also have been given no reason to follow you." You took a few steps forward and leaned forward against his desk to look at him directly. "Calling yourself a leader doesn't make you one."

Standing so close to him was a mistake; he stood, pushing his chair back with his foot as he jumped over the desk to throw you to the ground. His hand was on your throat, but you made no attempt to stop him or fight back; you needed him to accept you and decided to comply. "If this is how you're going to behave, (Y/N), I might have to teach you a thing or two about how it works around here. This is the future, and you are stuck in the past."

You smiled at him and reached up to pry his hands away. Your strength was easily greater than his, and he really was no threat at all to you. But you needed him. You needed him, so you relented to his self-imposed authority. "Yes, sir."

He stood and reached down to help you from the ground, standing face-to-face. "That's better. We'll get started on your re-entry immediately. You will be the key to our success, (Y/N). There won't be anyone who can stop us now, with you on our side."

A small smile crossed your lips, and a wave of nausea hit your stomach. Steve and Bucky crossed your mind, but you pushed them away, needing your full focus for the task at hand. You were going to make it right.

"Hail Hydra."

~~~

"She's been gone for two weeks! How the hell haven't we found her yet?" Bucky was scrolling through pages and pages of information of tips and possible sightings of you, but nothing tangible had come in yet. His frustration was at its peak and he was beginning to become inconsolable.

"I don't know," Steve groaned, leaning back in the chair and closing his eyes, rubbing the fatigue away with his hands. "Something has to make sense soon."

"If she weren't such a damn good spy, we would have found her by now."

"Tony said she had a job to finish," Steve said, "any idea at all what that could be?"

Bucky ran all of your past conversations through his mind, trying desperately to make a connection, but none would come. "No, nothing."

The men startled when Natasha burst through the doors, carrying a tablet with a video playing as she threw it on the table for them. "Suit up, fellas. Something big is going down in Washington."

Steve grabbed the tablet, his eyes full of shock at what he was seeing. He paused it when he saw a figure on the screen, one that he swore looked just like you, rushing into a building as you were followed by a group of heavily armed men. He tipped it to the side so that Bucky could see, waiting for his friend to confirm what he was thinking.

Bucky reached down and zoomed in on the image of you, squinting at the grainy picture, but immediately recognizing the Hydra emblem on your uniform.

"Steve," he whispered, "whose side is she on?"