I felt that the argument between Tony and Steve in Age of Ultron wasn't long enough. And since this is a fix-it fic, well, -cracks knuckles- time to fix this. A whole lot of tension in this one, plus a slightly alternate take of the vision in Age of Ultron. I don't own Marvel: enjoy!

Little Talks

Steve was good in reading an atmosphere, and he could easily tell that it was an occasion of celebration.

He looked down at his hands to see that his shield was missing and instead of his slightly darker suit, he wore his military uniform, complete with the medals and bars showing his rank as captain.

He felt a tap on his shoulder and he turned around to see-

Peggy?

He did a double take, and surely enough Peggy was there, out of uniform and in a blue dress. Beautiful, red lips curved in a smile. Not frail, not dying.

But young, vibrant and alive.

"Peggy?" Steve asked in bewilderment. "Is that you?"

"Well, of course it's me," she chuckled. "Who else would it be?"

"What's going on?"

"Steve, the war is over," she said. "We won."

But that wasn't possible. He found out the war ended seventy years later, not during the forties.

Before Steve could reply, he heard the sound of a nearby chair scraping the floor, being pushed away from the table.

"Hey, punk."

Steve's breath stopped.

He turned around to see Bucky. Not the weapon that Hydra made of him. Not his haunted eyes. A vision out of time stood not too far from him, unharmed, smiling and in his military uniform. He looked stunning, happy, alive. From the night they went to see Howard Stark's machines and wonders. The night before he left.

His humanity, his Bucky, was still there.

For a few seconds, Steve struggled to find the right words.

It couldn't be real. It wasn't real. Bucky was somewhere in the world right now, hiding. He didn't know where he was

"Bucky?" Steve asked.

Bucky extended his arm, in flesh, to him. Grinning, with the same twinkle in his eyes that was just him.

Steve was tempted to take his hand and be pulled an embrace. But somewhere in him, he knew it wasn't real.

He felt his hand hesitate.

The two people he loved the most; Bucky and Peggy, alive and well, young and vibrant.

No.

This couldn't be possible.

"Why the long face, Steve?" Bucky asked. "The war is over. We're home."

His promise...

("I promise you, we're gonna make it. To the end of the line, pal. Once this war is over, we can go home.")

That promise, that was uttered in their tent late at night, when everyone was asleep, like a vow granted and fulfilled, with foreheads and noses touching. Steve almost a breath apart from leaning down to kiss Bucky.

(But he didn't.)

Peggy smiled. "You still owe me that dance."

"Oh, now this is gonna be a sight. Stevie got two left feet," Bucky laughed.

"Uh." Steve didn't know what else to say.

Then the ballroom was empty. Like the celebration of the war ending was never there in the first place.

Steve was alone.

Alone in the 21st century, with Peggy dying in a nursing home and Bucky disappeared somewhere around the world. His mother was gone, as was his father. He had no one left from his time before the ice.

Bullets were still ringing in his ears, tanks could be heard in the distance, the scent of death and ash in his nose; cold, bitter air from the thin atmosphere of the mountains, Bucky's screams as he fell-

Suddenly, he felt himself being yanked into reality.

His breaths coming in and out in an uneasy rhythm. He tasted salt coming from the tears as they spilled down his cheeks.

He was back in the same place he was before he got attacked. No ballroom, no blood, no war.

No Bucky. No Peggy.

Nothing.

"Captain? Cap, copy. Cap, are you alright?" Clint called out.

He coughed into his glove, breathing into it while Clint called out to see if anyone was replying.

"Steve, I'm going to need you to breathe," Clint said. "Breathe, okay?"

"Clint, she's dangerous."

"I know, I know, Cap. Are you okay? Captain?"

It was just a vision.

"Cap, copy."

It was only a dream.

"Cap, are you alright?"

Fuck, you gotta focus. You gotta focus.

The swing music wasn't playing from the live band. No.

Steady thrum of comm link, cold bite of the Sokovian air in the fortress. Salty taste of his tears as they fell against his lips. Steve felt himself finally grasp onto his five senses, remembering where he was.

"I'm alright," Steve lied easily.

"There you are. Are you hurt?" Clint asked.

"She can control minds." Steve's voice shook, trying to get a grasp on himself, still reeling from the panic.

"Yeah, I noticed."

Fuck.

"Hey, Steve. It's okay. You're right here, and you're gonna be safe," Clint reassured. "Let me reach you. Send me your location."

"Clint, it's fine."

"Everyone in the team is compromised except for me. So please, just stay there for five minutes. Talk to me."

"I'm…" Steve took a deep breath. "I'm on the west side of the fortress before heading to the basement. All hostiles have been cleared."

"I have Natasha with me. Keep talking with me."

Shaking, Steve slid down onto the floor and focused on the leather of his gloves. The team was falling apart.

"Did the Maximoff get to you?" Steve asked, unable to keep the tremor out of his voice.

"Nah, I got to her first. Electrocuted her."

"Oh. And Stark?"

"He's after Banner...He hulked out."

Steve felt his adrenaline spike some more.

"Shit."

"Yeah, no kidding."

He didn't move until he heard Clint's footsteps approach him.

"C'mon, up you go," Clint grunted as he helped Steve to his feet. "Let's get out of here. I've had enough of this place."

"You and me both."

For once, it was Steve following the lead of someone else into the Quinjet after a mission gone awry.

Everything was unraveling and Steve couldn't do a damn thing about it.

Steve listened as Clint reassured Tony that he was going to a safe house.

Steve went to the back to lay on the bench, to try to sleep.

(He couldn't sleep.)

Everyone except for Clint looked visibly shaken.

To have peace for a few moments then for it to be snatched away in those as well. To know the ugly truth that his life was in a war he couldn't fight directly.

Steve tossed his arm over his eyes and kept his breathing under control.

And didn't sleep a single wink.

To help Clint out for the upcoming winter, Steve and Tony kept busy by chopping logs into half.

"Thor didn't say where he was going for answers?" Tony asked.

Steve wasn't in the mood for this.

He wasn't in the mood for any of this.

"Sometimes, my teammates don't tell me things," Steve didn't let the bitterness hide in his voice. "I was kinda hoping Thor was the exception."

"Well, give him time," Tony pulled another log on top of the stump. "He probably has a lot on his mind. Who knows what the Maximoff kid showed him." And down went the axe, splitting the wood almost evenly.

"Earth's mightiest heroes... pulled us apart like cheap cotton candy," Steve scoffed, chopping another log in half.

"To be fair," Steve pulled another log from the unchopped pile. "I don't know what she showed you; I just know it made you do something stupid."

It was a low jab, but Steve wasn't taking it meant what he said.

Tony obviously didn't like it, noted by his brief scowl. He shook it off though, tossing the two halves of the same log into his noticeably smaller pile.

"Seems like you walked away alright," he said, casually avoiding the subject.

Steve scoffed. "Oh, like any of us walked away unscathed."

"But, out of all of us, you look completely fine," Tony said, matter-of-factly. "Hell, you even took a nap on the flight back. Which seems pretty sketchy to me."

Steve didn't sleep.

(He had merely closed his eyes and prayed, imagining the counts from the rosary that his mother used to grasp at night time between her hands in prayer every night.)

"Is that a problem?" he asked.

Tony made a non-committing sound. "I don't trust a guy without a dark side. Call me old fashioned."

A dark side, huh?

"Well, let's just say you haven't seen it yet."

It came off as a threat. Or as a promise.

(Time would tell a year later in the Siberian bunker, with an armless Bucky struggling to stay alive out of neural shock and Steve nearly killing Tony in a leather-gloved knuckled beat down that it would be both.)

"You do realize that Ultron is trying to break us apart, right? This is exactly what he wants, just like that bastard, Loki; for us self-destruct from within."

(It's what Zemo wanted too.)

"You'd know all about Ultron," Steve said. "But the real question is if you would even tell us."

"Banner and I have been doing research…"

"-That would affect the team," Steve finished for him.

"-That would end the team," Tony corrected. "Isn't that the mission? Isn't that the 'why we fight'? So we get to go home?"

"What, like keeping people safe is some sort of assignment? Do you really see it like that? An assignment you just want to get over with?" Steve asked. "Keeping the world safe from threats isn't a one time thing that once you do it, it's done and you get to go home. It's a commitment. "

"We have the means and technology at our fingertips that can keep people safe."

"That's what they said about weapons."

"But these are not weapons."

"Then what the hell is Ultron?" Steve asked.

"Ultron is a mistake."

"You tampered with something that is out of our realm of understanding."

"It's not tampering. I was trying to prevent something worse from happ-"

Frustrated, Steve snapped the log in half.

"Every time someone times to stop a war before it starts, innocent people die. Every time," he said. "I know this from experience. Look at Ultron. Look at Project Insight. Do you know how many people could have died that day? Earth would have been a war zone."

"Don't talk to me about war-zones, Rogers. I've been in one. I've seen the outcome of the weapons I used to supply in war."

"It's different."

"How the hell is it different?"

"You made the right decision to stop selling weapons. It's true. But this...Don't tread on this path, Stark. It's dangerous."

"How is this not the right path? Simply because I want to prevent another Manhattan? Isn't that what we all want? To prevent mass destruction? To keep aliens from hurting our planet?"

"Tampering and creating a rogue AI is not the way to do so."

"What did she show you?"

"What?"

"Something's got you wound up, Rogers. What did the Maximoff kid show you?"

"Hey Stark!" Clint interrupted the argument, jogging over to the pair. "The tractor isn't working. Can you do me a favor and help me fix it?"

"Right now?" Tony asked.

"Yeah. We kinda need it."

Tony swung the ax down onto the stump, grounding it in place. He dusted off his hands on the surface of his jeans. "Yeah, I'll give it a kick," he turned to smile at Steve, all too brief and all too tense. "Don't take from my pile."

Which meant that the conversation wasn't over.

(Once they were both out of earshot, Steve didn't hesitate to break another log in half.)

First time writing in Steve's POV in a looooong time. I hope y'all enjoyed! Thank you for reading; comments are always appreciated.