"Sir, Falcon has requested Captain America's location in the tower," JARVIS said.

Steve looked up. He had no idea how long he had knelt on Tony's workshop floor, curled into himself with half-built Iron Man suits hanging in accusation above him.

For a moment, Steve thought about letting Sam into the workshop - he was one of the few who knew both of Steve's identities - but this pain, Tony's loss and... betrayal, was too raw to share. Even with Sam.

Somehow Steve uncurled his legs. He left the bloodied piece of rebar where it was, and dragged himself to his feet. Step by painful step, he walked out of the hidden workshop.

"Shut the door, JARVIS. Lock it."

The door to Tony's Iron Man workshop slid shut and sealed into the wall, like it was never there.

When Sam arrived, he took one look at Steve and immediately went to his side. "What happened?"

"Tony." Steve wanted to say more, but the words were caught in his thickening throat. "The hulklings." He gestured futilely to the outside, swallowing again and again. "He didn't make it." Bile rose up, the smell of burning flesh came again into his nose, and he had to press the back of his hand to his mouth.

"Oh man," Sam said softly. "Oh man... Steve, I-sit down. There we go. Head between your knees."

Sam had him sit on the lab couch - Tony's couch where he and Tony had made love too many times to count. Steve had the wild thought that when SHIELD found out and tore this place apart, he hoped no one came around with a blacklight. A hysterical noise bubbled up out of him.

Sam's hand was a steady presence, resting between his shoulder blades. Rubbing there until Steve managed to calm himself.

"Where's he now?" Sam asked calmly.

Burned to a crisp... I watched and did nothing. "Pepper," Steve blurted. There was a time when he used to have trouble lying, but living four years with duel identities had made him pretty good. His mother would be so proud. "She's taking care of... the arrangements."

"Okay. Then we need to get you upstairs."

"No, we'll be required to debrief soon." Steve heard a strange edge of panic in his voice, as if from far away. But the thought of looking Fury and Pierce in the eye and tell them about Tony was too terrible to bear. "You know what will happen if I don't show up." They'll come for him - take him back and restrict his movements, revoke his privileges and lock him back in the Triskelion.

"Man, there's such a thing as bereavement leave. Even SHIELD has to recognize that." Sam's voice held so much acid and frustration that Steve turned to shoot him a look of warning. It wasn't smart to voice their complaints aloud. Not even here, in Tony's lab.

"Sam-"

"Steve, shut the hell up," Sam said firmly, and maybe he was right because he was able to guide Steve upstairs. Steve felt brittle, weak, like he'd been thrown back into his own body. "I can take care of SHIELD right now."

"You're sure?"

"Captain America can't take care of this. You have to."

He was right. Steve let out a long sigh of relief and leaned just a little of his weight on Sam. He could bear it. "Thanks, doc," he joked.

The smile Sam shot back was a little sad. He'd once confided to Steve that he'd joined the Air Force in hopes of paying for college so he could be a councilor. But SHIELD had recognized his talent with the Exo-7 wings. And that had been that.

"Sam." Steve almost blurted it out. Sam was the closest thing to his best friend in this new time - but if Steve said Tony was Iron Man, Sam would have to report it to SHIELD. It would be suicide not to.

So when Sam looked at him, Steve forced himself to hold back the words and just said a simple, "Thanks."

OoOoO

Steve stripped mechanically out of his Captain America uniform, feeling like he was tucking something away. Something vital he couldn't put a finger on.

"JARVIS," he said quietly when he looked like himself again. His throat felt raw, and he wasn't sure why. He hadn't been screaming, but it felt like it. "Tell Pepper to come up to the penthouse."

JARVIS didn't reply - Steve got the feeling the AI was angry with him, as much as that were possible. Or maybe JARVIS was as capable of grief as anyone who had just lost the equivalent of a parent.

JARVIS remained quiet at Pepper's arrival, too. The only alert was the elevator ding before the door slid open and Pepper stepped out.

"Steve," she said, stopping in surprise. "I thought you were at your school - where's Tony?" The look in his eyes must have been terrible, because she paled and strode forward. "Steve," she repeated slowly, "Where's Tony?"

He heard his own voice as if from very far away. "Captain America told me... he's gone, Pepper."

"Gone?" Watching Pepper as close as he was, he saw her rainbow of reactions slide from immediate shock to slow, gradual fear. But not surprise. "And his body?" she asked, a hand to her throat. And that confirmed she knew Tony was Iron Man. She knew.

"Destroyed, along with the Iron Man suit," Steve said.

She took a step back, her hand slowly rising to touching her lips. Her eyes were wide. She didn't ask if Steve was sure - the look on his face probably said it all. And even though Steve was angry - or at least he wanted to be, should be enraged at her for helping to lie to him - all Steve saw was Tony's long-time friend and closest confidant crumple into grief.

He stepped forward and hugged her. She let out a sob and leaned against his chest.

Staring straight ahead, Steve patted her back.

OoOoO

After that, time passed in a fog. Steve would have suspected he was drugged, if anything worked on him.

Pepper started the arrangements: The memorial was set for the following Sunday. He listened quietly to her ideas, and said yes to anything she suggested. She didn't bring up Iron Man, and neither did he. There was also the issue of the multibillion dollar company to divide and manage. Tony's Last Will and Testament had yet to be read, but Pepper assured Steve that he had inherited Tony's majority shares of Stark Industries.

He didn't care.

When not meeting with Pepper, he spent his time in bed, laying on his side with Tony's pillow under his head. It still had his scent - probably would, for a couple weeks.

Sometimes he would make himself think: I'm never going to see Tony again, just to test for a feeling. Any reaction. Like prodding a broken tooth to see how much it ached. There was nothing. Just... unending nothing.

He knew grief - had become so swamped by it while he'd sat and drank after Bucky's death he felt like he'd been drowning. Back then, the only way he could keep his head above water was the promise of destroying the Red Skull. Be the soldier everyone wanted him to be.

And he'd grieved at the loss of his old world, too. It had been like watching this plastic and loud society spin 'round him, and feeling hopelessly behind, a step out of sync. Every new sight was an unpleasant shock - and there had been so many of them at first. But Steve had made himself continue, threw all of his energy into SHIELD as the only lifeline he'd had left. And when they'd allowed it, he had gone out for short jaunts around the city. One foot in front of the other, soldier

He'd attended a gallery opening the Maria Stark foundation was putting on, and met a loud, brash son of a friend. A quick, handsome man who instantly captivated his attention. Steve put himself in the middle of a bidding war for a painting he didn't like, at a price he couldn't afford. Tony Stark had outbid him at every turn. It ended only when Tony had tacked on two extra zeros and a request to take Steve out to coffee. With an offer like that, how could he have refused?

I'll lay down for just five more minutes, Steve told himself. Then I'll get up. Fix myself breakfast. Take a shower and get dressed. Just focus on one small step at a time. It was how he had dragged himself through the days when he first woke up from the ice. Keep going, soldier.

In five minutes, I'll start to pull myself back up by the bootstraps. Just... five more minutes.

He'd close his eyes, and when he'd open them slants of sunlight was shining in a wholly different position on the floor.

Nothing had changed. He was never going to see Tony again. Never hear his laugh, never hold him in his arms, get in stupid arguments over reality TV shows, touch his face...

Five more minutes, he told himself.

Sometimes anger would come in quick, bright flashes to his gray world. You son of a bitch, how could you be Iron Man? How could you betray me like this, kill innocent people, ruin lives... not tell me, not trust me, and paint a target on my back for any villain who figured out who you were?

Only Steve had done the same to Tony. The exact same thing.

Steve didn't replay Tony's voicemail again. Thanks to the serum, it replayed itself over and over in his head in crystal clear quality. Tony, taking his last, gasping breaths as he rambled about how Steve had made him happy. That Tony loved him.

Steve turned over, pressing his face into Tony's pillow. The blanket pulled up to his shoulder.

Five more minutes, he told himself.

OoOoO

SHIELD left him alone for two days.

On the third, Steve's communicator beeped with the call to assemble. He was expected on the roof of Stark Tower in ten minutes.

Steve stared at the message dully, and almost put the communicator back down on the nightstand. But Captain America was bigger than himself, always had been. Besides, it was all he had left.

"I guess that means my bereavement's over," he said. There was no one else in the penthouse to answer him.

No time for a shower. Rolling out of bed, he robotically pulled on a fresh uniform, then walked to the bathroom for a quick shave. The man who stared back at him in the mirror was pale and red-eyed.

He was a little surprised SHIELD was bringing a helocoptor to him here: They used to be more circumspect, but word must have gone 'round of Tony's death. Now that Steve no longer had an inconvenient husband to hide from, Captain America could be picked up directly from the roof.

The helicopter was already waiting when he got to the rooftop, the rotor-blades still. But there wasn't a SHIELD logo on the side. Surprised, Steve stopped short.

Then the door to the helicopter slid open and someone tumbled out as if pushed. In shock, Steve saw it was the Black Widow.

Her hands were tied behind her back, and she gave a grimace as she straightened to her knees - purple swelling already around one eye.

Beyond, the Winter Soldier stood in the open helicopter doorway. He held a handgun in his metal hand, and pointed it at the back of her head.

"What's going on?" Steve asked, reaching for his shield. He couldn't tell behind the dark sunglasses and muzzle-like facial mask, but he imagined the Soldier looked at him.

"You've got me." Black Widow grimaced again - clearly the gravel on the rooftop was cutting into her knees.

The Soldier spoke sharply in Russian. Black Widow flinched. The Soldier repeated his demand and shot once - the bullet ricocheting an inch from Widow's back foot.

"He says," Widow said, looking to Steve. "I'm to translate his words for you. He also wants me to say I'm an undercover SHIELD agent on assignment to infiltrate the League of Villains"

Steve stared at her, then glanced to the unwavering Winter Soldier, and back again. "Are you?"

She hesitated, and he knew the answer before she said it. Her eyes flickered: duty warring with self-preservation and the knowledge that the jigg was up. She probably guessed rightly that Steve would have more incentive to save her if she were one of his own. "Yes," she said flatly.

The Soldier spoke again. A demand.

"I'm to translate for you exactly. If I do my job, he says he'll release me." Something in her voice made this seem doubtful. Steve didn't disagree.

This was also the first time the Winter Soldier had made an attempt to speak to an Avenger.

Steve looked from Widow to the Soldier. "You seem to understand English just fine," he said to him.

"English was my mother tongue," Widow translated. "It was burned away from me too many times. The men at SHIELD were not careful, and there was brain damage. I can no longer speak it."

Steve's brow furrowed. "I don't understand. You worked for SHIELD? Is that how you forged the call to assemble?"

"I was their asset. Their unwilling soldier."

Steve stared at him, wondering what the Soldier's end game was. Almost too tired to care. "Is that your excuse for all your assassinations? All the murders of SHIELD agents?"

"None were innocent. All were involved in the Winter Soldier program."

Maybe Steve should have pressed more, but what he saw when he looked at the Winter Soldier was all the times Iron Man - Tony - had stood by his side. Why? "I don't believe you," Steve said. "Let the lady go. Whatever problem you have with SHIELD, you can face me about it like a man."

The Soldier made a cutting motion in the air, and his words held a cruel edge even Steve could hear before Widow translated. "You have no right to speak to me that way. You, who let yourself become SHIELD's dog. You never even bothered to look at its underbelly."

"And what would that be?" Steve asked listlessly. How could he still feel so tired? He just spent the last two days in bed, for goodness sakes.

The Winter Soldier spoke a word that needed no translation. "HYDRA."

Steve stared. "You're wrong. I'm the first to admit SHIELD isn't perfect, but I've fought HYDRA - I know them. SHIELD have nothing to do with the Red Skull."

"How would you know? You let them make you a perfect soldier, and you forgot how to be a good man, Steve."

Steve jerked. "How do you know my name?"

But the Winter Soldier didn't answer. Not directly. He cocked his head. "What if I told you it was SHIELD who killed your best friend."

Something hot throbbed briefly in Steve's heart. How dare the Winter Soldier bring up his name. "You don't know what you're talking about. Bucky died a hero, saving my life. He fell off a speeding train in the Swiss Alps."

The Soldier made a snarling sound. "James Buchanan Barnes died six months after you went into the ice. He died screaming under a knife in SSR headquarters in London."

"You shut up." He felt himself shake.

"How does it feel, Steve?" the Winter Soldier asked, "To know you didn't save Bucky, and then left your own husband to die alone?"

Steve didn't make the decision to attack. He just ran at the Soldier, heedless of the gun in his metal hand. Of any self preservation at all. The rising swell of grief and anger broke the numb dam inside him. And the shout he gave sounded like a scream.

The Soldier didn't seem to care. He stepped to the side of Steve's headlong rush, blocking Steve's punch with his metal arm, and following it with a strike to Steve's diaphragm. A single, brutal kick sent Steve sprawling back into the gravel. The air knocked out of him.

Steve gasped for a moment, rolling into a crouch. His shield was still strapped to his back, but the Winter Soldier hadn't advanced. He still stood there, as if patiently waiting for Steve to collect himself. Why? He'd had him utterly dead to rights.

Forcing himself to breathe, Steve stood, wiping his nose. "You don't know a damn thing about me," he growled, "or them."

He couldn't tell, but the visible skin around the Soldier's eyes crinkled almost as if he were smiling. "Good," he said, but the thickness of his accent made it sound like, "Gud". "Anger. Da. Good. Good."

Then the Soldier reached up and removed his sunglasses, his mask.

Steve knew the second the sunglasses were gone. He'd never forgotten that shade of blue-gray in his eyes. And when the mask was pulled away, everything else matched, too. The shape of his mouth, his nose, the divot on his slightly weak chin.

"Bucky?"

The Soldier-Bucky- shook his head. "No," he said short, terse. "Not-" His lips crinkled, as if trying to form unfamiliar words. Shaking his head again, he gave up and spoke in Russian.

The Black Widow had taken the opportunity to stand during Steve's attack. But she hadn't run away, and translated again for him. "In body, yes. Bucky Barnes' mind was razed to ash. They grew the Winter Soldier in his place."

Even she sounded slightly stunned. Bucky Barnes was a legend in the halls of SHIELD.

But Steve remembered a time when he and Bucky were ten. Steve had been edging on yet another asthma attack in an already bad week. They'd saved up for a movie that was supposed to roll a few minutes from then. They had to run to make it, and there was no way he could with his lungs already feeling so tight. Frustrated and filled with self pity, Steve had sat down and told Bucky to go on.

Bucky had begged him to stand up, to at least try. When Steve refused, Bucky considered him for a moment, then bent and smacked Steve right across the face with the flat of his hand. Shocked, Steve roared and surged up to knock Bucky over, sitting on the bigger boy, his fist drawn back. Bucky hadn't defended himself - willing to take his lumps.

"What was that for?" Steve had demanded.

"Figured anger was more useful than self pity," Bucky said, then raised his chin up. "Go on, you can wallop me if you want. At least you're up again."

But Steve couldn't. "You're a jerk," he had said. The truth was, his face didn't even sting that much - it had mostly been the surprise.

Bucky had grinned up at him. "Have'ta be, to keep up with you, punk."

They hadn't made the start of the movie, but they'd seen most of it.

The Winter Soldier wasn't smiling at Steve now, but his eyes glinted in the same way they had back then.

You're wrong, Steve thought. You're not the same man you used to be, Bucky, and neither am I. But you're still my jerk friend who has no problem giving me a slap in the face when I need it.

And with that revelation came more. "Zola experimented on you in the lab when your unit was captured. You survived that fall," Steve said, the pieces sliding together. Anger throbbed low and hot in his heart. "You're saying HYDRA did this to you? Or SHIELD?"

"SHIELD is more HYDRA, now, than SHIELD. The former SSR knowingly took in recalcitrant HYDRA agents in the 1940's. Since then, HYDRA has grown inside it like a virus," Widow translated. Her gaze flicked from Bucky to Steve. Then she added, "I think he means Operation Paperclip, don't you? It was a program to reintegrate captured German and Russian scientists after the Second World War."

"Da," Bucky said simply.

Steve straightened. "Did Tony know about this? About who you are?"

"About HYDRA, yes. Who I was? No. He found me in cryostasis in a HYDRA base. I owed him my loyalty for setting me free, but not my history."

Tony had rescued Bucky? Steve felt a flash of pain as he remembered again he'd never be able to thank Tony. He didn't bother shoving it down. He'd use that pain, later, for revenge. "Show me," Steve said. "I need to know how far this goes, and who I can trust."

"If you want your proof, I have it, and something else you may wish to see. Come with me, Captain America." Bucky gestured to the helicopter. Steve hesitated just a beat - old habits died hard - but then he started forward. He didn't expect the Black Widow to follow along after him.

"You don't have to come." He looked at Bucky. "You promised to let her go."

Bucky said nothing. But his eyes were cold and hard, and Steve knew that he'd only freely said as much as he had because he didn't plan for Widow to walk away from this.

Steve stepped in front of the agent. If Bucky was going to shoot her, he'd have to go through him. "You promised to let her go," he repeated.

"I'm seeing this through," Widow said, surprising Steve. "If half of what he said is true-" Her gaze shifted as she addressed the Soldier directly. "I left the KGB because I had red I needed to wipe out of my ledger. If I've been working for HYDRA all this time, instead, I want to know about it."

Bucky nodded once and gestured for her to turn around. He unlocked her handcuffs, and Widow rubbed at her wrists.

Bucky climbed into the pilot's seat and took off.

OoOoO

The helicopter ride was short jaunt across the city. Bucky landed them on the roof of a squat, unmarked building. From there, he led them down a rickety looking staircase into the sublevels.

It was an underground lab - Secret villain lair, Steve's mind helpfully supplied - and they weren't the only ones inside.

Steve's gaze skittered from several scared men, looking like doctors in their lab coats, and stopped for a moment at Bruce Banner who was half-standing from a counter at their appearance, looking startled. The doctors all were cuffed at the ankles with thin chains, but Banner was free.

"Why is Captain America here?" Bruce asked, looking to Bucky. He moved to the side, and beyond Steve saw a hospital bed, with active monitors above it. A single figure lay still.

Steve knew who was on that bed, knew it even before he vaulted over the table that separated the two sides of the room. The captive doctor's scattered awkwardly out of his way.

"Tony," Steve gasped. "Oh-Tony."

His husband was whole, unburned, and alive, but plugged into too many machines to count. Thick gauzing wrapped around his waist and stomach. He was breathing from a ventilator, but cracked open his eyes at the sound of Steve's voice.

Clearly on pain medication, Tony's dark eyes were hazy and confused. He grew visibly alarmed as Steve gripped his fingers in his own shaking hand.

Steve knew at once what was wrong. He reached up and pulled his cowl away. "It's me, Tony. I'm here."

He heard Bruce Banner murmur, "That...explains a lot," but all of his attention was on his husband.

Tony's confusion vanished under recognition. His lips twitched around the ventilator tube, but he couldn't speak. He weakly squeezed Steve's fingers in return.

Later, Steve would hear the whole story from Bruce. How Bucky had been alerted by JARVIS that Tony was near to death. He completed his mission, liberated Bruce from SHIELD, and for good measure he kidnapped a couple of the doctors who had been experimenting on him. One doctor, who had also been part of the Winter Soldier project, he killed, and stuffed inside the Iron Man armor in Tony's place before he triggered the suit's manual self-destruct.

The remaining doctors were told that if Iron Man died, so would they.

And later, as Tony healed and became antsy with laying in bed, there would be tough conversations, hard truths to face up to, and decisions to be made on which side Steve was going to jump.

He already knew.

Captain America was an agent of SHIELD, and an organization infected by HYDRA was one that needed to be brought down. Steve planned on getting Sam and Clint out, too.

And Steve would have to get a different name - something dark and wandering. A break from his past.

He wondered if Nomad would do.

~ fin ~

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

Critique always welcome. :)