Sam was at a clear disadvantage in his fight with the special forces commander. Close-quarters combat wasn't his strength—air superiority was.
But Sam was fast. Fast enough to realize what was happening outside the window.
And fast enough to run.
The special forces commander hesitated for half a second.
That half-second cost him everything.
A crashing Helicarrier from the Triskelion smashed into the building, burying the man beneath collapsing rubble.
"Sam, where are you?" Fury's voice crackled through the comms.
"41st floor, northwest corner!"
"We're on our way. Stay put!"
"That's… probably not happening!"
As Sam rounded the corner, he saw it—the Helicarriers colliding with the Triskelion, explosions tearing through the sky. Without hesitation, he sprinted and smashed straight through the glass on the 41st floor, leaping into open air.
Fury seized the moment, rolling the helicopter into a sharp aerial maneuver.
Sam dropped cleanly into the cabin.
"Forty-first floor! Forty-first floor!" Sam yelled, heart pounding.
"I told you I was on the forty-first! You parked way too far!"
Fury rolled his eye. "They don't exactly label the floors on the outside!"
Sam turned—and immediately spotted Clara.
"Fury, why did you bring a kid into a battlefield? What were you thinking?"
"I don't know either!" Fury snapped. "Now sit tight—we're going after Steve."
He swung the helicopter toward Helicarrier Three, but debris rained down from above, making it impossible to get close.
-----
On Helicarrier Three, Steve strained with all his strength, lifting a massive steel beam. Beneath it lay the Winter Soldier, pinned and unable to move.
Even after being saved, the Winter Soldier remained wary—instinctively lethal, confused as to why Steve had helped him.
"You know me," the Winter Soldier said slowly.
Steve looked straight at him and began to speak.
"Your name is Bucky Barnes. We grew up together. You're my friend."
HYDRA's conditioning screamed inside Bucky's mind, driving him to attack again and again.
Steve never fought back.
"Bucky," Steve said quietly, "if I'm your mission… then finish it. Because—
I'll stay with you until the end of the line."
The words struck something deep.
Bucky's raised fist froze midair.
A fragmented memory surfaced—he had said those exact words to someone once.
I'll stay with you until the end of the line.
The glass floor shattered.
Steve fell.
Straight down into the bay below, his battered body sinking helplessly into the depths.
-----
"Steve! Where are you?! Steve!"
From the falling debris of Helicarrier Three, Clara caught sight of a shape plunging into the water. She stared at the dark, churning surface below, barely breathing.
Then—
She saw it.
Deep beneath the water, someone was swimming—dragging another person behind him, heading toward the shallow shore across the bay.
"There! There!" Clara shouted, pointing wildly.
"I see them! They're there!"
Fury followed her line of sight and immediately redirected the helicopter.
-----
Bucky dragged Steve onto the shore.
He didn't understand why he'd done it.
The moment he saw Steve fall, his body had moved on instinct. He hadn't wanted him to die.
Hearing the approaching helicopter, Bucky looked up once—then turned and vanished into the forest beyond the shoreline.
Sam jumped down, hoisted Steve onto his back, and hauled him into the helicopter.
Fury pulled the controls hard, sending them racing toward the hospital.
Watching Steve's bruised and battered face, Clara's eyes held a trace of understanding.
-----
When Steve woke up, Fury and Natasha were already gone.
Although HYDRA's head—Pierce—was dead, the remnants embedded throughout government agencies still needed to be hunted down.
In truth, it was simple enough. Anyone not flagged by Zola's algorithm needed closer inspection. The FBI's workload had suddenly become much lighter.
Fury and Natasha weren't there—
—but someone unexpected was.
"Stark?" Steve blinked. "Why are you here?"
Seeing Tony Stark, Steve couldn't help thinking of what Zola had revealed in the underground bunker—the truth behind Howard Stark's death.
Howard Stark and his wife—Tony's mother—had officially died in a car accident.
In reality, they were murdered by HYDRA.
And Bucky had been the weapon.
Steve felt uncomfortable, though with his face swollen and bruised, it was hard to tell.
"Why am I here?" Tony shot back. "Why wouldn't I be? Fury used my tech and almost blew my head off! Now the whole world knows S.H.I.E.L.D. completely screwed up! And her—Clara—Happy practically destroyed his phone trying to call her!"
"She texted Happy after landing, saying you were picking her up at the airport. That lying habit of hers really needs fixing!"
On the chair beside the hospital bed, Clara was slumped sideways, fast asleep, wrapped in an oversized coat. Tony's raised voice startled her awake.
"Steve, you're awake!" she said happily.
"Do you feel okay? Anything hurt?"
Tony picked up the coat that had fallen to the floor, a sour feeling welling up in his chest.
She hadn't looked this happy when she saw him.
"I'm fine," Steve replied gently. "But your face—what happened?"
"One delusional old man hit me," Clara said casually. "It's nothing. He's gone to meet God now… though God will probably kick him right out of heaven."
She glanced at Steve.
"With your abilities, how did you get beaten up this badly? You still couldn't bring yourself to fight Bucky Barnes, could you?"
Steve stayed silent.
She was right.
He couldn't do it.
And he still blamed himself for not saving Bucky back then.
The silent Steve earned synchronized looks of mild disdain from the "Stark duo."
Watching quietly from the side, Sam became even more convinced of his suspicion.
The resemblance.
The expressions.
The timing.
A bold thought formed in his mind.
…..
They left the hospital via the rooftop.
Tony had arrived in his armor, which wasn't designed for passengers, so he'd borrowed a helicopter from Colonel Rhodes.
The pilot was Rhodey himself.
"Rhodey? What are you doing here?"
"I needed some peace," Rhodey sighed.
"Turns out several officers under my command were HYDRA. I treated them like brothers. Let me finish cleaning house—then I'll get angry."
Tony patted his shoulder. "Hey… at least you're doing better than S.H.I.E.L.D."
More than half of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s agents had turned out to be HYDRA operatives. The organization was now officially classified as illegal.
Rhodey leaned closer to Tony and lowered his voice.
"So… this is her, huh? Your 'daughter'? You really do look alike."
"You know the deal," Tony muttered. "If you know, don't say it."
"You think I've been in the military this long for nothing?"
Rhodey turned with a warm smile.
"Hi, I'm James Rhodes. You can call me Rhodey."
"Hello, Mr. Rhodey," Clara replied politely.
"I'm Clara Johnson. You can call me Clara."
"I'll take you back to New York City," Rhodey said, opening the cabin door. "Hop in."
Clara climbed aboard. Tony followed.
"Hey, sir—your seat's over there," Rhodey said, pointing at the red-and-gold Iron Man armor.
"Staying in one position too long makes my joints stiff," Tony replied casually.
"JARVIS can follow us."
The helicopter lifted off, passing over the Triskelion. From above, the devastation on its upper levels was painfully clear.
"So, Clara," Rhodey said lightly, trying to start a conversation,
"any thoughts on your Washington trip?"
He expected words like exciting, terrifying, or thrilling. After all, she'd been in the middle of a firefight.
Clara shook her head slowly.
"No real thoughts. Just… sadness. A lot of people died. Some to protect freedom. Some to take it away."
She looked out the window.
"Freedom is really expensive."
The Triskelion faded into the distance.
Maybe the next time Clara came to Washington, everything would look restored.
But how many of those who died to protect it—
would ever be remembered?
--------------
T/N:
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